#ALERT BITCH WE FINALLY HAVE IT

[theres-a-bea]

I'M SORRY?? MAIN STORY 14?

ALERT BITCH WE FINALLY HAVE IT

(PV under the cut)

cw! contains CN server spoilers, read at your own risk!

THIS BETTER BE GODDAMN FUCKING GOOD BC I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT THIS IS GOING TO HURT ME.

also, look how pretty

subtitle translation here

Artem is going to be OUT THERE risking everything to Get Him Back (Father Figure Version) while his own father still hasn't fucking shown up 😐

[13beachesxx]

fall is upon us ladies and gentlemen

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19

Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesn’t call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasn’t such a light sleeper, she would’ve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?

So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, she’s a little short with him.

“Finally, Steven,” she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. “I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, sounding contrite. “We sort of fell asleep.”

Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. “You guys slept together?” she demands gleefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” he shouts, and she’s glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. “We just fell asleep!”

She’s still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. “Does that mean it went well?” she wheedles.

She doesn’t think that Eddie would suddenly realize he’s straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she can’t get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.

“Well—” he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. “He took me to see some shitty horror movie.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers, full-on grinning now. “What a stereotypical move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. “Except he barely talked to me the whole time and didn’t even try to hold my hand.”

“No!”

“And then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.”

“No!” she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steve’s own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. “And you still spent the night?”

“He was nervous!” Steve defended. “And besides, the second kiss was much better.”

“Your boy’s a fast learner, huh?”

Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, “yeah,” with a dreamy sigh. “He took me stargazing.”

Chrissy coos, can’t help it, not when this whole thing’s been building for so long now. Not when there’s been an edge of fear to everything Steve’s said for months. He deserves something nice for once.

“And you’re going out again?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replies, and a knot of fear she’s had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.

He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. She’s got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheer—she’ll manage just fine.

So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, “a word, madam?” she’s ready to kill him.

But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and he’s smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.

Even Jason doesn’t protest from the other side of the table where he’s quietly seething.

So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.

Eddie doesn’t seem to know where he’s going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.

He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.

Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so she’s facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.

When he doesn’t say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, “I hope you know that if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,” Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. “But, I’m not here to talk about Steve.”

“Then—what?”

He’s grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. “We’re friends, right?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s choosing each word with deliberate care.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. He’s picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. “Why would you ask that?”

He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?” he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. “Steve’s great, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, you still lied to me—"

"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.

"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feels…”

“Shitty,” she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.

“Yeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."

Chrissy sighs. She’d known they’d have to talk about it eventually–clear all this stale air so they could move on–but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. But, he’s right; no matter their intentions, they’d all made a mess of things. She’d known that even as she’d been in the thick of it.

So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “I’m sorry.”

He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Eddie, just like that,” she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. “We were just trying to protect each other, but that doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if he’s not used to receiving apologies at all.

“Both of you?” he asks.

Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. “You know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?” she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. “Well, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.”

It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when she’d opened her door to Jason smiling at her like they’d never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when he’d scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.

The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it. 

“So, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,” she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. “He’d be my boyfriend, and I’d help him with the letters.”

She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But he’s squinting at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to crack as he says, “you totally would have helped him anyway,” with so much conviction that it warms her. 

“Oh, definitely.”

He’s still looking at her, but he’s smiling at her, eyes warmer than she’s ever seen them. 

“Alright, I forgive you,” Eddie says, like it’s easy.

It’s too easy. 

“Just because we had reasons doesn’t mean it was fair to you,” she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. “It doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt,” she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.

He doesn’t jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. “You know there was a time when you touching me like that would’ve sent me into a tizzy,” he says, still looking down at her hand.

“And now?”

“Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. “It was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.”

“You either, Eddie Munson,” she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. “Now is that it, or was there something else you needed?”

He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, she’s almost worried he’ll faint. “I, uh, well, the jacket?”

She thinks of Eddie’s jacket beneath her first, but that’s not where he’s looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steve’s letterman with a sort of longing that’s almost funny in its intensity.

She doesn’t ask any follow up questions—if he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, it’s Steve’s no matter how attached to it she’s become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She’d do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.

Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through her–she feels almost naked without its familiar weight. 

Since that first day in the library, it’s been her shield against Jason’s pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, she’d still have Steve. 

But, Jason’s backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boys–even Robin. Her life’s full to bursting in a way that it’s never been before. 

Chrissy will miss it, but she doesn’t need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and she’s not above stealing something else from his closet. 

“Jeff’s going to be sad,” she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like it’s a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. “He really liked it.”

Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, “do I need to get this thing dry cleaned?”

Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. “No, but if you would’ve waited a few more days, you might have.”

He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesn’t put it on. She wonders if it’s fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeff’s bodily fluids that stops him. She’s polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, “Wait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?”

She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague “both,” but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like he’s afraid of what she might say. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really, really don’t need to know.”

Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddie’s own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. It’s even baggier than Steve’s was on her, clearly designed for layering. “I’m borrowing this,” she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. “It’s cold today.”

“Don’t do any weird sex things with it!” Eddie calls.

She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.

When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, “that Eddie’s?” as he buckles his seatbelt.

“He wanted Steve’s,” she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.

“I’m going to miss that jacket,” Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissy’s becoming increasingly familiar with. “You know—”

“Eddie requested that we don’t ‘do any weird sex things’ with his jacket,” she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.

Jeff groans like he’d been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. “But, I’ll get your mind off it in no time.”

Jeff gulps, and doesn’t utter another complaint for the rest of the night.

***

Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what they’re talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robin’s nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.

Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But he’d sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that he’s like her and he’s happy.

Maybe there’s hope for her, too.

Robin’s broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. “Should we help him?” Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.

All the losers he’s still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissy’s vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.

Robin’s out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. “Harrington!” Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. “Come help me win a bet!”

He’s up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like he’s got the plague.

“What’s the bet?” he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.

Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, “the bet was whether you’d come when you’re called.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.

“Poor little puppy,” she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.

Vickie’s laughing from beside her; it rings through Robin’s ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steve’s hair.

He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steve’s shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.

“Not a word, Harrington, or we’re through,” she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.

“You guys are so funny,” Vickie says, still laughing.

Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like it’s a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.

Chrissy and Eddie don’t come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. She’s sure they’ll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.

She loves him so much, it’s almost stupid.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh?” Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.

“I mean, yeah?” Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. “He’s just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend I’ve ever had, which is crazy—it’s crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, right?” Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. “Who would’ve guessed?”

When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickie’s smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robin’s bare arm.

“I don’t know, I always thought he seemed nice.”

Robin’s nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isn’t nice. He’s an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but he’s not nice.

“He’s like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,” her mouth says.

Vickie’s mouth laughs in return, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

Robin’s mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.

God, Steve’s going to be such a bitch about this.

 ***

After Eddie’s talk with Chrissy, things shift.

Steve doesn’t sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.

For his part, all Gareth says is, “does this mean you two’s weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?”

Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.

“What?” Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.

“They’ll tell you when you’re older,” Doug replies despite having no idea himself.

Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.

By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.

“Munson, I can’t do this split custody thing anymore,” she says, making the red-head that’d followed her over giggle. “They’re too much of a handful.”

“Or maybe even two handfuls,” Steve replies, across the table at her like he’s not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.

“Don’t be gross, dingus,” she scoffs, and Eddie’s mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldn’t be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.

“Are you guys coming back to Hellfire?” Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing what’s going on a second longer.

Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. “I’d like to.”

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steve’s feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, “you know this means you’ll have to come to Steve’s basketball games,” and he slams his mouth shut.

Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like they’re already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.

“We can sit together,” Jeff says, but he’s not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissy’s blushing face. “It’ll be fun.”

Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadn’t put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steve’s palm.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he drawls, lips brushing against Steve’s hand with each word.

“What the hell is happening?” Gareth demands.

Much to his dismay, no one replies.

Things slide back to normal after that—Chrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, it’s better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddie’s lips.

It’s driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.

But that’s not something that’s allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesn’t know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steve’s.

There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: don’t stand too close, don’t look too long, don’t dare to touch.

He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Gareth’s garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.

But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and he’d like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.

So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesn’t lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

***

Robin’s been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.

“You plan this, Birdie?” he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold that’s seeping up from the floor.

Robin’s face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. “Boobies,” she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. “Boobies, yes,” he chokes out. “I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

That’s all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she whines, still trying to kick him.

“Okay, okay!” he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. “Sorry, just—what’s this about boobies?”

“Stop saying boobies!”

Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robin’s cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.

“Vickie—”

And Steve can’t help it, he really, really can’t. “Has nice boobies?” he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.

“I hate you!” Robin shrieks, but even she’s laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while he’s defenseless. “Steve Harrington, you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

She tries to say it with conviction, but Steve’s hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.

“Get your boy cooties off me!” she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until she’s leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, feeling lighter than air. “Now tell me about Vickie’s girl cooties.”

Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. “Vickie doesn’t have cooties,” Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. “She walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And maybe it’ll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and Eddie…” Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. “Maybe there’s more of us out there than I thought.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. “Maybe there are.”

They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes they’ll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each other’s smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.

“We should get married,” he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robin’s eyes bug out of her skull. “Just think about it! Eddie and I can’t get married, and neither can you and Vickie—”

“You’ve literally gone out with the guy once, and we don’t even know if Vickie likes girls yet—”

“—but we could totally just marry each other instead!”

The silence of the bathroom rings once Steve’s declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if he’s stepped over some line he didn’t even know was there.

Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steve’s hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.

“Ow, Robin!”

“You’re insane, Dingus, you know that?” she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. “I’m sixteen, and you’re proposing in the boy’s bathroom.”

She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesn’t even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.

“I meant like, later?” Steve says shyly.

He’s always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. It’s a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earth’s always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who don’t always give it back.

But Robin’s on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking what’s either snot or tears into his hair. “Alright,” she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. “When I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.”

Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. “Grow old in separate bedrooms,” he replies.

“Gotta keep our cooties separate,” she says, like she’s not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boy’s grimy bathroom.

He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. “Tell me about Vickie,” he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.

“Okay,” she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.

PART 21

[frudoo]

How would slasher! 141 react to a reader who isn’t a fan of violence but goes absolutely HAM when one of the victims escapes and injured her boyfriends? (I know the guys are good at what they do but let’s just pretend lol)

maybe she’s dirty from doing chores outside and the victim assumes that she’s an escapee as well, says something about ‘stabbing that fucker with his own knife’ and she just sees red because this piece of shit hurt her boys and she CANNOT let that stand.

Without even thinking, she starts absolutely wailing on this person, punching, kicking, etc. She's got blood on her clothes and shes breathing heavily when the boys finally make their way outside.

how would they react? 😳

This AU has me tweakin I swear

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Explicit gore. Emetophobia.

You gently pick up the little rabbit and giggle, pressing a kiss to its fur before sending it off somewhere else that isn’t your vegetable garden. The pesky things have been terrorizing your poor crops, and while it’s a nuisance, you just can’t stay mad at the little fellas, let alone ask your boys to get rid of the problem. There’s a rustling in the bush next to you and you suspect it’s another bunny looking for a tasty meal, but before you can go investigate, a loud scream coming from the barn startles you.

     Typically, you’re able to drown out the sounds of your husbands’ victims—it freaks you out to hear a person in so much pain, no matter how badly they deserve it. But this is not a victim’s scream. You know that scream. It’s the same one you hear any time he stubs his toe or gets a cramp in bed. That’s Simon’s scream. Immediately you’re on alert, standing from your knees and starting towards the barn.

     Instead of seeing your husband rush out, seeking medical aid or some kind of comfort, a random man covered in dirt and blood comes stumbling outside, looking terrified. You recognize him as the guy Simon, the big, unbreakable brick wall of a man, had even said wasn’t an easy one to catch. When the man sees you also covered in muck, he laughs like he’s just won the lottery, relieved. He rushes up to you, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you towards the fields, no doubt to look for some kind of escape. 

     “C’mon, we- we gotta get outta here. Now! We have time- fuck, lady, come on! I stabbed that fucker with his own knife, so we have time,” he rambles, digging his filthy nails into your skin to get a better grip.

     His words seem to make your heart stop beating in your chest. So that’s why Simon was screaming in pain. Your Simon, your sweet baby, one of your protectors, hurt by an inferior piece of meat. A special brand of scum. You’re scratching at his face before you even realize it. 

     “Wha- bitch! Stop! I’m trying to save you, lady!” Any other time, you’re sure a man like him could have easily overpowered you, but you feel fucking invincible right now, kicking the backs of his knees until he falls.

     You pounce on his back and trap him on the ground, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back just to smash it into the dirt. He’s screaming in agony and you’re sure his nose is broken, but you can’t stop. He hurt one of your boys, and if you know anything about the pieces of shit your husbands get rid of, you’re positive nobody is going to miss the one struggling beneath your weight. You bash his head into the ground over and over—his nose is completely crushed and his teeth are busted, but you just keep going and going and going until your arms are finally tired and you’re heaving with effort.

     When you climb off of him, you see just how much blood has tainted the grass, and you feel nauseous. The man is no longer screaming, not even grunting or moaning, and you know you’ve killed him. You roll him over just to make sure, and the sight of his mangled face makes you lean forward to vomit. You end up tripping over one of his untied shoelaces and falling right on top of his body. Sobbing, you scramble away, screaming when your back hits something solid.

     “Hey, hey, it’s just me, darlin’. Just me,” John coos, helping you up and pulling you into a tight hug.

     “I-I di- I didn’t mean to,” you weep, blood and bile still sour on your tongue. “H-he… he stabbed Simon, and- and I-”

     “Okay, sweetheart, it’s fine. I’ve got you now, yeah? Deep breaths, baby, breathe with me,” John instructs, cupping your sticky cheeks in his palms and forcing you to look at him.

     Distantly, you see Johnny rushing towards the barn and Kyle dragging the man’s body out of sight, but John makes you focus on him. Only once you’re calm, sniffling instead of hyperventilating, does he explain what’s going on. 

     “Kyle’s cleanin’, and Johnny’s gettin’ Simon all patched up. He’s gonna be okay, baby. You were so brave for us, sweet girl. Do you hear me? I'm so proud of you. We all are.” 

     You nod, but you need to see Simon, make sure that he’s really okay. Make sure your efforts weren’t in vain, that the blood on your hands wasn’t shed pointlessly.

     “I wanna see him,” you hiccup, and John nods, turning you around so you can watch as Johnny helps him walk out of the barn.

     You let out a sob of relief, rushing towards the pair and wrapping your arms around Simon, who grunts in pain. You gasp and move to pull away, but Simon just holds you tighter, letting you take as much comfort as you need from him.

     “I love you,” you murmur, and he smiles.

     “I love you more, perfect girl.”

[starryevermore]

it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it ✧ azriel

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: azriel x vanserra!fem!reader

summary: you have a surprise for your mate. azriel takes everything horribly. 

word count: 2,743

warnings?:, angst city™ bitch, (perceived) cheating, accusations of cheating, dual povs, no happy ending (we stay sad here), there may be a part 2 if anyone asks nicely, not proofread

PART TWO

Ordinarily, you hated when Azriel would leave for long missions. Azriel loved that about you. For so many years, he longed for someone to love him in spite of himself. Throughout his life, he had so many heinous things. He always worried that his hands were stained too red for anyone to ever want to hold. But you, the only daughter of Autumn, looked him right in the eye and proudly declared that he was your mate. You looked at the darkest parts of him and found love for him anyways. And when your family, when Beron, tried to keep you from him, you ran straight into his arms anyways. You were willing to throw away everything you knew for him. Azriel would always be grateful for that. But, now, you almost seemed to want him to leave. 

You had been acting strange a few days before he left. For as long as Azriel knew you, you were fiercely independent. It was something that was appreciated because it meant you could take care of yourself when he was gone for days, weeks, even months at a time to carry out Rhysand’s will. Now, though…You would disappear for long stretches of time, give vague answers when Azriel would ask how you were doing. He supposed, as spymaster, he could figure it out for himself, or at least send some shadows to follow you, but he wanted you to tell him yourself. He needed to hear from you that everything was okay. 

That is, until he told you he was going to be away for a month on a mission. Typically when he would be gone for so long, you would hold him close and rant about how you were going to give Rhys a piece of your mind for taking your mate away. And he would kiss you and cherish the few hours he had left with you before he would have to leave. This time, you only pouted and gave him a kiss goodnight before retiring to bed. 

It was damn near impossible for him to focus on the mission after that. Had Azriel done something wrong? Had you finally reached the depths of Azriel’s darkness and decided you hated what you saw? 

He planned on talking to you as soon as he returned. He would not let you get away with vague answers. He wouldn’t rest until he got the truth about your new behavior. He had to know. 

He almost wished he hadn’t. 

When Azriel winnowed into his shared home with you, the scent of other males filled his nose. If it had been Cassian or Rhys, he would have paid it no mind. But he didn’t recognize these scents. Who had you invited into his home? 

A worse thought crept into his mind—had this been why you were so eager for him to leave? 

You grinned as a shadow alerted you to Azriel’s return home. It had been so hard to keep away from your mate, but you knew that if you allowed yourself near him, you would have spoiled the surprise. And, oh, how you wanted to surprise him. 

It wasn’t easy to keep things from the spymaster. Between his shadows and his observational skills, he had near perfect accuracy when it came to figuring out your surprises. And yet, he didn’t make any guesses or reveal that he knew what your secret plan was this entire time. It almost had you confessing. But then Azriel told you he was being sent away for a month on a mission, and you knew you could hold out until the end. 

You couldn’t keep the secret totally to yourself, of course. You told Rhys and Feyre, who helped you find a reputable group of workers to build the addition onto your home. And you told Nesta and Cassian, who caught you leaving the store with a bundle of bags. Mor guessed on her own. Amren was the one who figured it out before even you knew. Everyone agreed to keep the secret amongst themselves, on the condition that you invite them over for dinner after you finally reveal your secret to your mate. 

And the day had finally come! The workers had just finished the addition a few days before, their timing nearly perfect. 

When you felt the shadows creep up your ankles, wrapping themselves around you, you knew Azriel was home. You jumped up from your seat on the couch and ran to greet him where he stood in the dining room. 

A wide smile stretched across your face as you said, “Welcome home!”

But when you threw your arms around his neck, he didn’t move. You took a step back, watching as he glanced around your home, his nose wrinkling.

“Did the mission go alright?” you tried. 

Still, Azriel didn’t say anything. Worry began to settle in the pit of your stomach. It must have been truly awful for him to be so quiet now. While Azriel usually kept some of the more gory details to himself, he did like to talk to you about his missions. He said it helped him process the things he did. Did you need to go give Rhys a piece of your mind? 

“Az, is everything okay?”

Finally, his eyes snapped to yours. “I don’t know,” he said, his head tilting, looking at you almost like how a predator looks at its prey. “Would you be okay if you found out your mate was unfaithful?”

Your heart dropped. How could he think that? “What?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and gestured widely to the room. “You think I can’t smell the other males who have been here? Do you think I’m stupid?”

Oh. Oh no. You had glamoured your own scent, so that you might keep this all a surprise. But you didn’t think to glamour the scent of the workers. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly well that I have a whore of a mate,” he hissed. 

You reached for him. How could this go so wrong? Why wasn’t he listening to you? “Azriel, please—”

He pushed you away so hard you stumbled, your back hitting the kitchen table. His eyes flashed—with what, you weren’t sure. Certainly not regret, though. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Just listen to me, please—”

“I don’t want to listen to any of the lies you spew,” he snapped. He turned to leave. “When I come back, I expect you to be gone.”

“Azriel!”

But before you could say anymore, he was already gone.

It took everything in you to not sink to your knees and cry. Why would Azriel so easily believe you would be unfaithful to him? Why wouldn’t he let you explain? Did he truly think so little of you? You wiped your face with the back of your hand, surprised by how many tears had already fallen. 

How could Azriel look at the face of his crying mate and not even attempt to hear you out? 

You took a shuddering breath, glancing down at the one shadow that remained with you. Bile rose up in your throat. He wouldn’t listen to you, but he would leave a shadow? To what, make sure you actually left? 

Fine.

Fine, you’ll leave, if that’s what he wishes. You didn’t want to stay a minute longer with a male who thinks so lowly of his mate.  

Azriel stayed gone for a week. He retreated to Rhysand’s cabin, knowing that you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—follow him there. Unlike your brothers, you were unable to winnow. Try as you might, the skill never came for you. It had once pained him, knowing how you had to flee the Autumn Court on foot so that you could be with him. Now, though, Azriel was grateful to be able to put distance between you and him. 

The only contact Azriel had that entire week was to send a letter to Rhys, providing the details of the mission and stating that he would be away for a while. Rhys only responded to tell him to enjoy his time away. Azriel wished he could. But there was nothing enjoyable about learning of a mate’s infidelity. 

Finally, though, the limited food supply at the cabin ran low enough to justify Azriel returning to his family. He went to the River House, hoping to talk to Rhys about what had transpired. What he hadn’t expected was to be greeted with celebration. 

“Congratulations!” Feyre said when she saw him, pulling Azriel into a one-armed hug as she held Nyx on her hip.

Rhys’s lips pulled into a smirk as he approached him. “Where is that mate of yours? I believe she promised us a dinner.” 

Azriel’s heart clenched at the mention of you. As angry as he was to learn you had been unfaithful, it had broke his heart to know that he couldn't be with you again. He would never be able to trust you again. Azriel already spent his days torturing the scum of Prythian. He didn’t need to have a scourge of a mate, too. “Dinner’s cancelled for the foreseeable future,” Azriel said. 

Rhys waved him off. “Understandable. If she’s anything like Feyre was, she must constantly be sick. Whenever she’s ready, though, we would love to have dinner with her.”

Why was Rhysand so focused on dinner? A bitter part of him wondered if his brother was one of the people you took to bed. Would you do that to him, to Feyre? 

Feyre looked Azriel up and down, sensing that there was something more than what Azriel was letting on. “Have you seen her since you’ve come back?”

“I have,” Azriel said, his tone clipped. 

“And were you…excited?” she asked. 

He rolled his eyes. “Why would I be excited to learn my mate is a—” He glanced at Nyx. Though barely a year old, he probably was cognizant enough to babble swear words spoken in front of him. “—that my mate was unfaithful?”

“What are you talking about?” Rhys asked, his brows knit together. 

“I came home to a house reeking of other males. She didn’t even try to hide—”

Feyre gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Finally. Someone understood. “You didn’t—“

Rhysand’s eyes flashed. “Azriel, don’t tell me you excused her of cheating.”

“Why shouldn’t I confront her for what she did? For who she brought into our home?”

“Azriel, that female loves you. She risked her life to come to Velaris. Do you really think that she would throw that all away?” Rhys snarled. “Tell me she’s still at the house.”

“When I left a week ago, I told her to be gone. I imagine she isn’t there anymore.” Azriel frowned. “And I know, it doesn’t seem like something she would do, but the males’ scents were everywhere—”

Azriel’s head snapped to the side. He raised his hand to his face, touching his stinging skin. He looked at Feyre, his eyes widening. Did she really just hit him? Now? “You idiot!” she snapped. “Your home smelled like other males because she hired workers to build an addition while you were gone.”

“What?” Why would you do that? You had always loved the small cottage. You had once told him that the only reason you might ever choose to leave would be to grow your family. 

“She was having a nursery built,” Rhys snapped. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

It was days before you reached Autumn’s borders, and days still before you came into contact with other fae. The female fae, who found you collapsed on her family’s farm, took pity on you. Ordinarily, you would have shuddered at the mere idea of being pitied by anyone. But you were so exhausted. You weren’t sure if you could make it any further on your own. So when she ordered her husband to winnow you to the Forest House, you leaned against him and let him take you away. At the Forest House, you were passed to the arms of a sentry to one of Eris’s guards until your brother was carrying you into your old room, yelling for a healer. 

Save for trips to the bathroom and when your mother dragged you out to family dinners, you scarcely left your bed. The healer would check on you daily to ensure that you were still healthy enough to carry your child and that the child was still doing well—that the stress wasn’t killing it. You were sure the stress was killing you. Aside from her, though, you didn’t speak to anyone. You couldn’t find the energy, not even when Eris was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of what happened. 

“Did something happen with Azriel?” he asked, reaching out to pet your hair. It had been something he often did when you were younger whenever you were upset. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and rolled over, turning your back to Eris. It was the first time anyone had said his name. Whenever the healer would come, she would make remarks about “the father”. But she never said his name. As for your mother and brothers, they mostly kept to themselves. Whether it was to give you time to heal or out of fear of you breaking down, you weren’t sure. 

“Did he hurt you?” Eris asked.

“Not like Father did,” you whispered. It hurt to speak. Your vocal cords strained. You swallowed, trying to alleviate the pain. It didn’t help.

 His hand paused at your answer. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, like it pained him to think your mate could hurt you. “What did the bastard do?” 

Part of you wanted to say nothing. Reliving that pain was too much, and you doubted it would be good for the baby. But now that you had spoken, you doubted that Eris would let you continue your vow of silence. “He accused me of infidelity.”

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Eris’s eyes turned to slits. You rolled back over and reached for his hand. It was warm, like his fire was just below the surface. “And you let him live after such an accusation?”

“He wouldn’t listen. Was so sure of it that it didn’t matter what I said.” Your eyes welled up with tears. Though you were no stranger to crying in front of your brother, you prayed you wouldn’t do it now. It felt too pathetic—crying over a male. “I had an addition built to the cottage. He smelt the workers’ scents and thought the worst.” 

Eris opened his mouth. You braced yourself for the fire that was about to spew from his mouth. A knock on the door, however, stopped him in his tracks. Both of you looked over as your mother stepped into the room, a piece of paper pinched between her fingers. Eris rose to his feet, then closed the distance between them. “What is it?”

“It’s a letter from the Night Court. The High Lord is inquiring about her whereabouts.”

You glanced down at the shadow, still twisted around your wrist. Huh. Maybe Azriel didn’t leave the shadow behind to monitor you. Otherwise, there would be no need to look for you. The shadow could easily slither back to its master, whisper that you were hiding in the Forest House. A smile tugged at your lips. Even if this killed you, it did bring you some modicum of joy to know the shadows were turning their back on Azriel. 

Your mother and Eris looked to you for any sign of how to respond. Letting out a breath, you pushed yourself up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You tightened the robe around your waist as you strode over to them. “Tell them that I am safe,” you said, “and that any further correspondence is unnecessary and unwanted.”

Then, you walked past them to your wardrobe, plucked a dress and retreated to the bathroom. You were done wallowing in self-pity. If your mate didn’t want you anymore, that was fine. You could learn to live with this. But you won’t allow yourself to become a husk. Not when you had a babe you would need to care for. 

As you shut the door, you heard Eris say, “Tell the High Lord that if the shadowsinger dares to sniff around our borders, I will have his wings mounted to my wall.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

PART TWO

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Touch Me Baby

pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader

wc: 21.7k

cw: mad flirting, swearing, use of the f slur once, shattering glass, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, brief mentions of suicide, mentions of cheating, men being weird and implications of harassment, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (f recieving), minor praise kink, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, wrap it before you tap it kids

a/n: set in modern times with phones and everything! i've never written anything this long before, and I really hope you guys like it!!

steve harrington masterlist

“You literally look so fucking hot oh my god.” 

You rolled your eyes and checked yourself out in the mirror, smirking slightly. “I can feel you objectifying me Birdy.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and collapsed on to your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think it’s unfair that you aren’t so emotionally and deeply in love with me.” 

“Hey.” You peered over your shoulder, “I told you that I’d be your lesbian lover the second you needed one.” 

She sighed and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to do me out of pity. I want you to love me.” 

You walked over and kissed her head. “ I do love you.”

“Yeah Yeah. As a friend.” She teased as you laughed and moved over to your vanity. 

“Just because you’re not my type doesn't mean I don’t think you’re showstoppingly gorgeous.”

“Are you trying to get into my pants Y/l/n?” Robin teased. 

“You wish Buckley.” 

Robin let out the most over-dramatic sigh and collapsed on your bed again, giggling after a moment.  

You laughed at her antics and checked out your makeup, your earrings, and your rings in the mirror next to your door. “Is this cute enough?” 

“Did I not just say how hot—”

You and Robin had lived together for about three years now. You had become fast friends freshman year and then roommates for the last three years of your college experience. The apartment you shared was perfect because it had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the price didn’t rise once in your entire time living in NYC. The best perk of them all was having a home phone. It was reminiscent of your childhood and you both handed out your home phone number to everyone, enjoying the messages you received from anyone and everyone. 

It rang and immediately went to voicemail, as Robin had set it on vacation mode the second you moved in meaning every single phone call went directly to voicemail so you could both hear who it was. A man’s voice rang out through your shared apartment. 

“Hey it’s Steve, I just landed and I’m on my way to your place, I think it’s only a twenty-minute drive but I wanted to alert the household I was on my way.” 

You looked over at Robin, slightly uneasy. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.” 

Robin shrugged and her smile was a bit brighter. Her two best friends were about to meet, and maybe even hit it off and they could be a friend group—but Robin was getting ahead of herself. 

“You’re going to like him. The same level of snark, but definitely a softie under it all. And he’s my best friend, so I wouldn’t be friends with him if he sucked.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just call him your best friend in front of me and say that, I know he’s one of your best friends, which is why I’m worried. What if he thinks I’m a huge bitch or something, or like…I don’t know.” 

“He’ll love you.” 

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well. We have twenty minutes to fix up the house so that he doesn’t think we’re complete and total slobs or anything.” 

The two of you spent the next seventeen minutes unfolding your futon couch bed, frantically shoving trash in trash bins, and stuffing the dishwasher with dishes. You definitely weren’t slobs by any means, but sometimes it was easier to leave wine glasses or bottles on the coffee table, or just toss your bra onto the chair since you didn’t want to wear one anymore or…

“Which candle?” 

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the extra pillows from your room. “Does it matter?” You yelled back to Robin. 

“I don’t know!” 

“Well, he’s your home best friend. So whatever you think would suit the straight man you’re friends with.” You walked out and placed the two pillows on the pull-out bed. 

“Okay, I’m going with Midnight Citrus because it’s my favorite and he can suck it up.” 

“Whatever you say, girl….” 

Both of your heads turned when you heard the knock on the door. Robin literally shrieked as she barreled towards the door and you swear you could hear Steve laugh through it.

Robin definitely knocked something over on her way over and you spent the next thirty seconds picking up the bowl and its contents from off the floor.

You had seen pictures of Steve before. There were plenty around the house of the two of them by themselves or with other friends from their hometown, so you knew Steve was an attractive man, but something about seeing him in person was a whole different beast. 

And there were no pictures in the apartment to prep you for the fact that he had these thin wire-framed glasses. You could have sworn he sucked the literal breath out of you. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Steve smiled that same lopsided smile you had seen on the walls and you probably would have dragged him back to your bedroom right then and there if Robin wasn’t standing right there and staring at you with the most hopeful look on her face you had seen since her breakup during sophomore year. 

“It’s uh, it’s so good to finally meet you too. Heard so much about you.” You smiled at him and kept your hands awkwardly in your back pockets. 

Steve nodded. “Same here. She actually doesn’t shut up about you.” 

“I could say the same thing.” 

“Okay, no need to be rude.” Robin huffed and haphazardly tossed Steve’s bags onto the couch. 

You and Steve shared a quick look, both of you trying not to laugh. 

“Ready to go Stevie boy? I know you just landed but it’s a Friday and I want to go out.” 

He nodded. “I remember the text you sent me like last week as a reminder Robs. I just have to change.” 

“The bathroom is the second door on the right.” You smiled at him and watched as he grabbed things. 

You looked over at Robin. “Where exactly do you want to go out?”

Steve passed by you and you caught a hint of the cologne he had put on this morning. He closed the door and you had to blink a few times. “Sorry, where did you say?” 

“I was thinking we could just go to the Cubbyhole…” 

“Robin, we are not taking him to Cubbyhole and ruining our reputation there.” 

“It’s literally not that big of a deal.”

“Babe, we are not bringing your straight man friend to a lesbian bar.” 

“Fine then—”

“And definitely not Henrietta’s either.” You cut her off. 

Robin crossed her arms. “ Well, then where do YOU want to take him? Because I’m not going to—” 

“Girl, please. It’s like you have no faith in me. Who showed you both of those bars in the first place?” 

“Fine then.” 

You smiled at your victory and watched as Robin walked over to the little whiteboard you had in the hallway. Robin erased the bottom half of the words but kept the tally up top. “So where are we going tonight?” 

“Are you okay with more of a just ‘sitting and drinking’ bar instead of clubbing tonight? Or at least we start at a bar and then move on to clubs?” 

Robin’s face twisted, but then she conceded. “Ugh, fine.” 

“Why don’t we start at Nothing Really Matters?”

“Which one is that?” 

Steve popped out of the bathroom right as Robin asked that question, causing you to stutter a bit in your answer. 

Steve was wearing these blue jeans that fit his thighs his ass him so well, and some clearly well-loved white Nike sneakers. But what got you was the shirt combo he was wearing. A tight black tee, covered by a short-sleeved patterned button-up, that was unbuttoned and just tight enough to fuck you up. 

Plus, you were sure you saw a silver chain around his neck, which made you wonder what it would look like when if he was above you. 

“I-I…um. It’s the one in.” You bit the inside of your cheek and looked back at Robin. “The one in the 50th Street subway station.” 

Robin raised her eyebrow at you, but you just shook your head, deciding to ignore what just happened and barrel through. 

“A bar in a subway station?” 

You smiled over at Steve. “It’s not as gross as it sounds. I swear. It’s one of my favorite little spots that not a lot of people know about so there’s almost always seating and they have really good drinks there too. Besides, it’s in the station so if Robin wants to abandon us for some clubbing then the train is right there.” 

He nodded and put his stuff away, while you looked back over at Robin who was making a face at you. 

“What?” 

She huffed and went into the kitchen. 

When you just stared at her, confused, she aggressively made a small wave for you to follow her. You sighed and obliged, managing to walk directly into Steve’s chest because you weren’t paying attention.

“Shit! Sorry.” Your hands were against his chest while he had one of his hands on your waist. 

“N-no it’s fine.” He gave you a sheepish smile and quickly pulled his hand off your waist, but your skin was covered in goosebumps from how close you two were. 

You quickly hurried into the kitchen where Robin was impatient tapping her foot. “Seriously?” 

“W-what?” you smoothed down the front of your top, trying not to look up at her. 

“You know what.” 

“Birdy I–”

“No, save it. I don’t want to fight. I just want to know why you’re so against going clubbing tonight when that was the original plan.” 

If you were to tell Robin the truth, it would be because you weren’t sure you wouldn’t end the night with her best friend in your bed, kissing him like the world was ending, doing things that would have her kicking you out of the apartment and her life. 

Or maybe it’s because you want to spend the entire night just talking to Steve and listening to his voice and learning every single thing about him. After all, you were utterly entranced. 

“I just, I worked all day, and now that we’re actually going out…I don’t know if I have the energy to go all out.” This wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth. You had worked twelve hours today, and even before Steve had arrived, you had been dreading going out anyway. 

Robin’s face twisted a little bit. “It’s Steve's first time visiting me in the city and I wanted to show him around and show him all the places that I get to have fun.” 

“And for him to have a friend for when you inevitably win the bartender’s number tonight and go back with her to her place….” 

Robin’s cheeks turned bright red and she huffed again. “What–no–okay so maybe a bit but–”

“Look, babe, if you want to go to the Cubbyhole, I am more than supportive of that, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the mood for. You could always ask Steve to go with you. Or ask him what he wants. And if he’s okay with going out, we can all start at the bar, and then we can split up based on how we are all feeling. Steve literally just got off of a plane not even an hour ago.” 

The two of you agreed on a plan and walked back into the living room, where Steve had been shifting his bags around, and had his phone open. 

“Are we ready?” He stood up and smiled at the both of you. 

You both nodded and smiled at one another. One of you was excited to start the night. And the other was dreading what would happen when Robin inevitably left you alone with her hot best friend from home. 

_________________________________________________________________________

The three of you had managed to snag one of the tables up against the wall of the bar. Steve sat on one side, and you sat on the other, with Robin between you. It was the perfect setup for everyone since Robin was in between her two favorite people on the planet, and you got to look at Steve frequently because he was in your direct line of sight. 

It was most definitely the alcohol, or maybe it wasn’t, but Steve was getting more attractive by the minute. 

“I’ll go get us another round!” Robin excitedly grabbed all three glasses and ran back off to the bar to get more drinks. While you were so grateful that it was going so well, you couldn’t help but Steve was feeling the same way you were. 

Were you such a bad friend if you were actually excited for Robin to leave the two of you alone together? 

“So how did you meet Robin?” 

You blinked a few times before looking over at Steve. It was dimly lit, but you were seated next to the lamp on the wall, so he was bathed in a red glow. He must have been some sort of Greek god or something because no one can look that good in any lighting at all times. 

“She didn’t tell you already?” 

Steve shook his head, smiling slightly. 

You bit your cheek again and smiled. “Okay so. We met in our first year here, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her, oh my god, she like, never shut up. And while I love her for it now, it was causing some strained tensions between the two of us. So we were in the same class and got partnered for a project about Women’s history, specifically, authors who we deemed as important. And so I offered up Toni Morrison, who is probably my favorite author of all time, and Miss Indiana over there told me that her books were mediocre at best and wanted to do a project about Virginia Woolf. Then I called her gay, and she freaked out. Not in the aggressive way you’re thinking, but simply because I knew she was a queer woman, and it freaked her out that someone could tell. Like only a gay woman picks Virginia Woolf.” 

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and you could tell he was unsure about the path this story was taking, but you continued on. 

“She ended up letting me win the argument and we put together the most beautiful slideshow on god’s green earth. I mean, seriously to this day, I think about the transitions. A good PowerPoint can make or break a class—anyway. After that, Robin didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week.”

“Which is valid because I thought she was going to fucking hate crime me since my experience with people knowing I’m gay is either Steve or getting called a fag so…” Robin placed the drinks down in front of the respective people and sat down on her stool.

“Until…” You took a sip of your drink, cutting her off so you could finish the story.”We attended the same party that Friday night at Vickie’s house—I’m assuming you know all about Vickie and the mess that was—anyway. We were at Vickie's place and I went into the kitchen where some girls were making fun of Birdy and calling her some really awful shit because she was from Cowland, and so I called them all a bunch of cunts and then defended my homegirl because women support women, especially queer women. Then she kissed me, and—she’s actually not that bad of a kisser if I’m being so honest with you—and then we’ve been best friends since.” 

“I’m a phenomenal kisser, excuse you.” 

You smiled and nudged her with your elbow. “Sure thing Birdie. You’re nowhere near the bottom of my list though. I think Malcolm is—remember him?” 

Robin burst into laughter. Steve looked between the two of you, extremely confused by the entire situation—it was written all over his face. 

“He used to—” You couldn’t breathe because of how hard you were laughing. The sentence was virtually unfinishable. “He-He would…” You tried to take a few breaths. “He would, uh, spray cologne in his mouth instead of using a mint because he thought that’s what it was for—” 

You and Robin collapsed against one another, back into your fits of laughter. This had Steve cracking up, not just at the fact that this man was stupid, but because you and Robin’s laughs were contagious. 

“She didn’t figure it out until the fourth date.” Robin blurts out, causing you to wipe away the tears in your eyes and shove her slightly. 

“Shut UP. I only kissed him like twice before then and it was just pecks.”

You caught a glance of Steve out of the corner of your eye, and he was looking right at you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and the two of you stopped time for a moment. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up into a smile before he broke eye contact and looked back at Robin. 

“Wood in the mouth takes a whole new meaning—”

“Oh please. Don’t even start with that—”

“I’m just saying your choices in partners–”

“At least I didn’t date a married woman–” 

“WHAT.” 

Your eyes widened and you looked at Steve. “She didn’t tell you?”

Robin started hitting your arm. “No. I. did. Not!” 

You laughed and used one of your hands to shove hers away from you. “It was like a three-month relationship but she realized–” 

Robin shifted tactics and clamped a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t finish the sentence. After a moment she made a gagging sound and quickly pulled her hand away. “Did you just fucking lick my hand?” 

You winked at her and looked back at Steve. “She knew this woman’s wife too. A month into dating Robs found out. Rough semester.” 

“Oh my god. Robin. Who are you? What else have you done that I don’t know about?” 

“That’s it. If you’re going to tell him all of my wrongdoings, I’m out.” Robin downed her drink and stood up. She kissed your cheek and grabbed her purse off of the chair she was sitting on. 

“Remember to wear protection there kid.” 

She rolled her eyes at you and turned towards Steve. “I know I—”

“Robs, seriously, it’s okay. Go have fun. I have been traveling all day. And I don’t mind talking to Y/n—” 

“Unlike someone here, I’m not going to abandon you, Steve, don’t worry.” 

Steve’s hand rested over his heart. “You’re too kind.”

Robin scoffed but was smiling the whole time. “Don’t wait up. Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

And with that, she left you and Steve sitting in the bar. 

“So Steve, what else do you want to know about our girl??” 

The two of you spent the next three hours sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. Eventually, you and Steve were knee to knee, your head on his shoulder when you laughed too hard, trading stories about Robin. Nice didn’t even begin to describe the way his cologne smells when you would rest your head on his shoulder, giggling about something he said. Or the way his hand felt when it rested on your thigh as the two of you talked and talked and talked. 

Or when the two of you couldn’t stop giggling on the subway as you told him about the time Robin threw up on someone on the subway after you both had been drinking all day during last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day. 

Or when you stumbled slightly on the street, clinging to Steve as he clung to you. Enjoying the sound of his voice as he whispered things into your ear. 

Or as your back was up against the wall next to your door, you watched Steve’s hands use the key and unlock your door, except both of you forgot the fact that the bolt was also locked, meaning Steve slammed his face right into the door since it wasn’t moving. You clamped your hand over your mouth, dying of laughter, watching as Steve tried not to laugh at the door himself, instead smiling brightly at you, with his head against the door. 

Or when you both stood in the hallway of your apartment, neither one of you wanting the night to end, toeing the line. Eyes pretending they weren’t staring at lips. Hands fluttering around, almost grabbing one another. An inch away from more than just friends. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you awoke to an empty apartment and a text from Robin saying that the two of them decided to “hit the town”. 

You took your time. Decidedly talking yourself out of everything that had happened last night, especially when Robin had left you and Steve alone. It was dumb of you to even think about potentially betraying Robin’s trust like that. She didn’t bring Steve here to add him to your collection of failed lovers—and even if she did, you had a sinking feeling that Robin would choose Steve. 

It’s not to say that she didn’t love you, adore you, and wish nothing but the best for you, but you wish to never even put her in that position. 

So instead, you decided to take your mind off of everything by spending the afternoon in one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that was only a few minutes walk away from your place. 

You had managed to snag your favorite seat: a comfortable chair next to the window, and a plug. The plug was the best part since it meant you rarely had to get up and could just charge your devices without having to leave the spot you were in for potentially hours. And today was one of those days. The collection of mugs on the table grew as the hours of the day went on. By the time hour four had rolled around, there were about five mugs and two plates. 

That’s when the world did that thing again, when it decided to start ruining your day. First, your laptop was overheating more than usual, which was just plain irritating. Then, they had run out of the panini you were going to get for lunch. The final straw, however, was when one of your exes came waltzing up to the table. 

“Y/n, it’s been so long. How are ya?” 

You tried not to let a full resting bitch face take over, but to any observer, you were not happy to see the man in front of you. “Malcolm. Hey. I’m good.” 

“I’m doing great too. Mind if I sit? I just can’t believe I ran into you here.” 

Your breath hitched and that little voice in your head screamed panic!

“Um—actually, well, I come here all the time and you know that…Second, this seat's taken.”

“Well I’ve been here for about five minutes now and no one has taken that seat–”

“You’ve been watching me for five minutes? That’s fucking creepy Malcolm.” You tapped your finger against your keyboard nervously, eyes darting around, hoping someone would catch on to how uncomfortable this was for you.

“Please. That chair isn’t for anyone now is it?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

It’s still unsure if you audibly let out a sigh of relief seeing Steve approach the table, and take the seat next to you. 

Malcolm crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Look bud, I don’t know if you’re trying to play the hero card here by swooping in to try and save some damsel in distress you don’t know just to get her number, but you can right fuck off.”

Steve turned and looked at you. “Is he bugging you, Y/n? Because I’ll fucking kick his ass…”

You smiled and placed your hand on top of Steve’s thigh under the table, where Malcolm couldn’t see. You gave it a squeeze, hoping to god he understood how grateful you were at the moment for him. “Steve, this is Malcolm…you remember…from the other night.” 

“Shut the fuck up—this is cologne guy?” 

You nodded. Throughout the rollercoaster of being approached by an ex who was kind of threatening you, inside your favorite coffee shop, while you were alone, your heart rate shot up. Your heart was pounding. But when Steve put his hand on top of yours, you thought your heart rate would skyrocket. 

And then the weirdest thing happened, it didn’t. Steve started rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, and your heart rate went down. If this was on purpose, you might never know, but this simple gesture from someone you have known for mere hours had your breathing even out and your heart rate slide back down to within reason. 

Wasn’t it written somewhere that love makes your heart beat out of your chest? 

That love makes your soul bleed and your eyes weep. Love is supposed to make you crazy and worship the other person till the ends of the earth. It’s supposed to be overwhelming and make you feel like you could burst just from how much love you hold within yourself. It was a disease, unable to be cured—a madness. It’s all-consuming, unforgiving, a fire that cannot be tamed. Something you willingly killed yourself for. Ended it all because the idea of losing it was a fate worse than death

What you’re feeling couldn’t be love then. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t going batshit crazy over the idea of risking your life for him or losing your mind over the thought that he might not love you back. It was just a plain and simple joy: sitting next to him, his hands on yours. 

Your heartbeat had found its way back to normal, and your mind began to refocus on the confrontation in front of you. 

By the time your vision refocused after the thirty seconds you managed to blackout, Malcolm was glaring at Steve but starting to walk away. Whatever Steve said, worked, and you looked over at him, confused. " I think I must have blacked out or something because how the hell did you get him to..." 

Steve shrugged. "If you missed it, you missed it." 

"You're joking right?" 

Steve shrugged and smiled. His hand was still on yours, but you completely forgot about it—

"What are you working on?"

—Til now. 

You begrudgingly took your hand away from his and brought it up to the keyboard of your laptop, clicking it awake so he could see what you had been working on. The two of you spent the next hour sitting and talking about your courses, which were all a bunch of nonsense anyway since you were a second-semester senior with barely anything to do. 

"You're taking a metal-welding class for credit?"

You smirked and nodded. "When I tell you college is a joke, I truly mean it. I kind of love it though. Robin, however, dislikes being outlesbianed by someone who is not a lesbian. But I think I'm getting pretty good at it too."

_____________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, you and Steve found yourselves as the last two in the coffee shop, still talking about anything and everything you possibly could—wherever the conversation led you. 

When it was time to get kicked out, Steve helped pack up your things, and you both started the short walk back to the apartment where you ended up raiding the "delinquent Cabinet" as it had been affectionately named and properly labeled. 

By the time Robin got home from her shift, you and Steve had demolished a joint, several shooters, half a bottle of prosecco, and half a bottle of vodka. The conversation had never stopped, with the two of you always finding some way to stay touching to one another. You couldn't deny that the feeling of Steve calmed you down immensely, and the courage you were feeling from the past few hours helped with the want to have your hands on him. 

But when Robin walked into your apartment, you and Steve sobered up a tiny bit, deciding to leave some space between you both. You missed the way his hand felt on your calf, absentmindedly massaging it as the two of you talked about the difference between weed from Indiana and weed from a major city. 

“Hey you two…” 

“Birdy!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were fading away from the red of smoking, but your smile was lazy and your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way. 

“Ah, I see we broke into your stash?” 

You smirked slightly, and nodded. “Well if Mr. Harrington is going to smoke good weed, no offense to your friend back home, then he needs the best.” 

“Eddie sells good weed.” Steve defended his friend from home but it just made you giggle.

“Steve, that joint you gave me tasted like the equivalent of watered down vodka. It’s good, but it’s not the best. You can’t deny that mine was waaaaayyyyyyy better. Besides, it came from a pretty girl so it’s automatically better than Eddie’s.” 

Steve’s cheeks blushed slightly as he looked over at Robin. “How was work?” 

Robin’s eyes shifted between the two of you on the couch, but then settled on Steve. “How much did she have?”

“Don’t wanna know Birdy!” Your voice sang out across the room.

Steve shrugged. “Work?” 

She huffed and hung up her coat, admitting defeat on getting information out of a crossed-you. Robin kicked off her shoes and grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter–the one that was still half full–and joined the two of you on the couch. Robin managed to fit herself perfectly between you and Steve, causing you to frown slightly, but say nothing. 

“I almost punched an old lady but nothing new.” Robin took a long swing from the bottle of wine. 

“Was it that cunt Mrs. Defejeki?”

“Woah, language.” 

“What are you five?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s comment and picked up the remainder of the joint out of the ashtray, trading the weed for the rest of the bottle of wine. You and Robin shared basically everything. There were always a few exceptions, but still. If you started a bowl, Robin would finish it. If Robin did a shot, you did a shot. And while you were both built differently, the mix of shit the two of you ingested managed to get the both of you to about the same place. 

Robin just relit the joint in her mouth, nodding at you. “You’d think she’d go somewhere else to buy eggs if she always has something fucking stupid to say about our eggs. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re in a fucking city. If you want fresh eggs, get a friend with a coop on a roof or some weird shit.” She took a long drag, eyes rolling back and her eyelids closing. 

You nodded. “Or just…leave the fucking city.” 

This caused both you and Robin to burst into a fit of giggles, causing the latter to cough a little bit since she was still inhaling. 

You felt Steve’s eyes on you the whole time, but it only made you warm and fuzzy inside…or maybe that the combination of shit you put in your body. But either way, his eyes were gorgeous. You couldn’t help looking back at him, trying to locate every single color that reflected off of his eyes in the dim lighting. It didn’t help that his eyes were redder than yours, but he was still just as stunning to you. 

Robin leaned in front of you, blocking your view of the gorgeous specimen across from you on the couch, and placed the filter back in the ashtray. “Now what kiddos.” She placed a hand on your thigh and looked over at you, a smile on her face. 

“Did you wanna go out? Because I’m a little decapitated at the moment.” 

This caused Steve and Robin to burst at the seams. You furrowed your eyebrows as Steve and Robin kept laughing at you. Everytime they managed to calm down a bit, they would look at one another and burst out laughing again. 

“What!” You grumbled, shoving your foot against Robin’s thigh, trying to get her to pay attention to you again. “Whattttttt.” 

“It’s—” She giggled. “Not decapitated–HA–Incapt—” She couldn’t speak, she giggled so much. “Fucxk Steve.” She heaved out. “How the fuck do you say it?” 

Steve, who was not much better than Robin at the moment, was wiping literal tears from his eyes. 

“Incoorperat—fuck—wait.” He giggled again, and you were sure a flame just washed over your body, leaving you with goosebumps. “In—Cah—Pass–ih–tay–ted.” 

He slowly sounded out the word like he was in the middle of an eighth grade spelling bee. 

You slapped Robin's arm. “I literally said that!!” 

Robin and Steve burst into another fit of laughter. 

The group of you continued to giggle, and talk over one another. All of you filled to the brim with smiles and laughter and stories to tell. 

At some point you had changed into your pajamas, most likely when Robin had decided to call her night and go to bed. You, on the other hand, had changed into your pajamas, and gone back out into the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made during the night’s festivities. Steve, who was still awake, offered to help you, like the gentlemen you were learning he was. 

The two of you cleaned the kitchen, talking about your childhoods, comparing the worlds you grew up in–their likeness, their differences. 

And somehow 11 pm turned into Midnight. And then Midnight became 2 am. And then 2 am had become 6 in the morning. 

You had spent the entire night, sitting on your couch, talking to Steve Harrington. 

Since it was early enough in the morning, you invited Steve to come and sit on the fire escape with you, and watch the sunrise.  

It really sucked visually when there was no sun to watch rise since the sky was overcast and gray, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying Steve’s company. 

The two of you sat in silence with one another. You and Robin had always joked about how much you hated domesticity, the thought of just existing with someone else for the rest of your life was definitely a thought that scared you. Especially doing things as simple as laundry or the dishes, eating your meals together, or sitting on the fire escape and watching the sunrise together. But this moment, with Steve, made your heart ache. You never wanted this moment to end. It was a new drug you didn’t know you needed. And now that you had it, how were you supposed to give it up? 

“I really appreciated last night–tonight—the past several hours.” 

You looked away from the street, and over at Steve. “I-...I really enjoyed it too.” 

He smiled softly at you, and you have no idea what came over you, maybe it was bravery. But you reached over and brushed some of the hair in his face, behind his ear. It was intimate, maybe too intimate for people who were supposed to be friends by proxy of Robin Buckley and nothing else. 

You could feel Steve’s breath hitch and for a singular moment you regretted everything. You regretted staring at him in the bar. You regretted getting coffee with him. You regretted telling him about your thesis. You regretted sitting next to him during your movie night. You regretted the movie night. You regretted staying up and talking to him for hours on end, wasting away the night until he knew almost every single thing about you. You regretted suggesting coffee on your fire escape when you realized it was six in the morning. You regretted brushing his hair out of the way. 

But most importantly, you regretted not putting your coffee cup down when you did because the hot liquid spilled all over your lap when you quickly retracted your hand and stood up. 

“Shit–Fuck. Sorry.” You watched as the liquid covered your bare legs and as the mug clattered across the fire escape, and off the edge, shattering on the ground below. 

“Shit–are you okay?” 

You were shaking your head. The coffee was fucking hot, that was for sure. And that was at least your excuse for the tears that sprang to your eyes. Especially since you really liked that mug too. Steve put his mug down and crawled through your window. “Where are your towels??”

Your hands covered your face as you vaguely mumbled something adjacent to ‘the closet’. Steve had no idea which closet you meant, so he grabbed the dish rag hanging off of the stovetop and made his way back across the living room and through the window. 

“Are you okay?” He handed you the towel and you wiped off the burning hot liquid. Luckily, you barely had enough coffee to kill you, so your legs were just a bit red from the quick extreme change in temperature. 

Robin, who had heard the commotion ran out of her room in a tired stupor and looked around, panicking. “Is everything okay?”

Steve looked back into the apartment at Robin. “She–uh, she spilled her coffee and the mug went over the railing and she’s not burnt or anything but—yeah.” 

Robin furrowed her brows and made her way over to the window. “Sweetheart, why are you up this early? It’s not even seven am.” 

You shook your head, and that’s when the thunder started. You aggressively sighed and made your way back through the window into the apartment, following Steve who had done just that moments prior. 

“I'm going to go take a shower.” You quickly made your way to your room before Steve or Robin could say anything. 

You grabbed your lotion and a hair towel from your closet, alongside your robe, and headed into the bathroom. Once you closed and locked the door, you looked down at your legs. The red was starting to fade away, thank God, and there was no sign of bubbling so at least your embarrassing blunder wasn’t going to give you physical injury—only emotional. 

Steve and Robin’s hushed whispers carried down the hall but you had no idea what the two of them were talking about, only that it was probably about you. You decided to ignore it and splash some water on your face. 

God, how fucking embarrassing was that? You weren’t one to get flustered by men, or women, or really anyone, but this? What the fuck was that? Spilling hot coffee all over your lap? 

And Steve had sprung right into action, could he be any more perfect? My god you were fucked. 

It was at that moment that you realized you left your phone on the kitchen counter. It’s not that you couldn’t shower without music, but you preferred not to. So now you have to contemplate the dilemma of going out and facing your best friend and her best friend who were definitely talking about you, while you were only in a robe, or do you just suffer in silence. 

When you heard the front door slam shut, you had your answer. Assuming that both of them had decided to go out to breakfast and give you some space, you shoved your clothes into the hamper in the closet in the bathroom and opened the door. 

And there was Steve, with his hand up, as if he was about to knock. “Hey—sorry.” 

“Oh–” You took a step back, and only looked at his face for a moment, a little too embarrassed to really make eye contact with him. 

“Sorry, it’s just—I–uh, Robin went to get us some breakfast from this place…She wanted me to let you know, and you had been in there a while without the water running so I–uh–wanted to make sure everything was okay.” 

You looked up at him and almost swooned at the sincerity in his eyes. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he want to talk to you? You had only been in the bathroom for like, five minutes without turning on the water? 

“I’m fine Steve, thank you for asking. I wanted to…um…apologize for earlier when I–” 

Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, seriously–”

“No I so do, I literally made a move on my best friend’s best friend, and almost completely unwarranted too–”

You were cut off by the feeling of Steve’s lips on yours. 

It was like heaven was on earth, and every single one of those thoughts came back to your mind. Steve’s lips—having coffee in the mornings with him. His eyes—getting dressed up and going out to lunch and running errands with him. His smile—making dinner with him and doing the dishes afterward. His hair—the sight of his head between your legs—

He pulled away the second he realized you weren’t kissing back and started to follow down the same path of panic you had just been on. “Shit—I read that so wrong–fuck, I didn’t—”

You pulled yourself out of whatever stupor you were in, grabbed Steve Harrington by the back of his neck and shoved his face into yours—lips crashing against the others. His hand flew around your waist and pulled you up against his body. 

He tasted like mint chapstick, something you weren’t sure you were expecting, but it just added to how attractive he was. 

Steve slowly walked you backwards, until the back of your thighs hit the counter. Steve all but picked you up while you hopped backward onto the counter. He was once again your knight in shining armor when he held you in place, saving you from toppling over into the sink. You laughed against his lips, causing him to smile and pull away for a moment. “You’re clumsy aren’t you.” 

You watched as his chest rose and fell, just as quickly as yours. You pulled him into another first kiss, wanting to feel his lips again. “You have no idea.” You mumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Steve moved his lips away, starting to kiss up your jaw, preening at every little gasp and inhale and sound you made. He squeezed your hips and moved your waist slightly, giving you the hint you needed to start grinding on him. His teeth grazed your ear and you let out a moan, rolling your body up against his. 

Steve let out a breath against your neck making your skin break out into goosebumps. Your right hand was clutching the kitchen countertop, while your left hand had made its way up his chest and on the back of his neck. Your fingers wove into his hair, yanking on it slightly as he continued to kiss lightly down your neck. 

Something you never thought would happen today was hearing Steve Harrington moan. It was one of the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your life, causing you to pull on his hair again just so you could hear it again. 

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He groaned against your neck and pulled you directly against him.

“So do something about it.” You sighed out gripping the counter tightly. 

You felt him smirk against your skin and pull away from you, much to your dismay, which you made known by your groan. "Steve please."

"Say it again Princess." 

Your eyes met his as you bit your lips. "Please." 

A wave of something came over your entire body at the look Steve gave you when spoke. 

"Anything you want, pretty girl." 

Something else you had never thought would happen today was the sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you on your bathroom floor between your legs. 

You had basically prepped for this moment since you were completely naked under the robe you were wearing, but the thought of a shower was now far from your mind. Steve kissed your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath, and grip the countertop impossibly harder.

He slowly kissed up your thigh, moving your legs so that they were over his shoulders. 

You moaned out his name, causing him to falter for only a moment. He groaned against your skin and squeezed your thigh with his hand. “Fuck me gorgeous.” 

You licked your lips, unable to lift your head from the way it was resting on the mirror. 

"Sweetheart, eyes on me." 

You moaned and inhaled, looking down at the man between your legs. His eyes were already on yours, as he slid both of his hands up, pulling you directly against his mouth. 

The feeling of his lips against your cunt made you let out the most strangled sound, trying your best to contain anything above a whisper. 

You could have cummed at the way he was looking at you, but just rocked your hips against his mouth, hoping for a bit more of the feeling of him. 

“Come on pretty girl.” He licked up your cunt, causing your body to involuntarily jolt a little bit. “I know you can make prettier sounds than that. I wanna hear them. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you like this–”

There was a knock on the front door, slightly frantic, but not panicked. 

“Hey, guys? I accidentally locked the door, can you come get it for me?” 

You let out a little gasp, your breath stuttering as you teetered on the edge of the counter and on an orgasm. Steve pulled away and kissed your thigh quickly. You leaned your head back against the mirror and just gripped the counter, coming to terms with the fact that your best friend just cock blocked you, and that Steve was no longer between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” He cooed, standing up and kissing you quickly. “I know I know.” 

You whined when he pulled away, the taste of you on his lips was not one that either of you would forget for at least the rest of the day, probably your lives. 

“I’m gonna turn on the shower and then go let her in—.” 

Your phone pinged with a text from Robin as Steve turned the shower on for you. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get any sort of release from the pent-up orgasm just sitting in your gut. 

“You wouldn’t do anything without me, pretty girl, would you.” 

“I could hurt you, Steve Harrington.” You muttered but nodded to his statement. 

He smirked slightly but then closed the door behind him and you heard him make his way to the door, to let Robin into the apartment. 

It wasn’t even 8 am and you hadn’t slept and the day was getting longer by the minute. 

_____________________________________________________________________

After that morning, you had somehow managed to miss Steve at every turn, causing your frustration to build throughout the day, especially since he was leaving the next night. 

And then, because of your classes, you managed to not see Steve at all for the rest of the trip, except for the few minutes where the two of you crossed paths, with Robin. 

The last time you were face to face with Steve Harrington alone for more than a few seconds was when he was tongue-fucking you on your bathroom counter. And it was pissing you off. 

But one day, a few days after Steve had flown home, your phone pinged. And when you saw that one Steve Harrington had started following you on instagram, you followed him back embarrassingly fast. 

The only thing that was more embarrassing then that was how quickly he dmed you after.

And suddenly you were attached to your phone: Constantly checking it to see if he texted you, smiling at your screen whenever his photo popped up, giggling at his cheesy jokes out loud. Your demeanor had completely changed. Instead of the consistent snark and attitude, you had a more pleasant and approachable demeanor. You would wake up early in the mornings and make breakfast for Robin before she was even out of bed. At the clubs, you would dance and drink with people, but never danced with them for more than one song, and didn’t take anyone home either. Sometimes you would even opt to sit there on your phone, texting Steve. 

But after three weeks of being on the outside of whoever was making you feel this way, Robin had enough. She was going to find out who this mystery person was, and how the hell they managed to make you act like this. 

“Who the fuck have you been texting?” 

You looked up from your phone, immediately clicking it off. “What are you talking about?” 

Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop for the past two weeks, smiling at it like some sort of lovestruck idiot, so who is it? Who are you smitten for?” 

“Pshh–I’m not—I think you’re losing it, or something.” 

“Is it a girl?” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. 

“So what’s his name then huh?” 

You looked away from her, staying silent. 

“You can’t pretend like you haven’t been smiling at your phone, or that you haven’t been drifting off into space…You’re literally doing it right now?” 

You blinked the images of Steve out of your mind and shook your head.

“You’re delusional—” Just as you looked over at Robin, she was on top of you, having launched herself across the room in an attempt to get your phone from your hands. Unfortunately, Robin launched herself at you with such force that the two of you toppled over and she managed to grab your phone, snatching it from your hands. 

Right before she could slither out of your grasp, you grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards your body. “Robin give me my PHONE.” 

This was an unfortunate situation for many reasons. The first was that Robin escaped your grasp and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The second was that your phone unlocked with her face so it was relatively easy for her to snoop. The third reason happened so painfully slowly. You heard her laughter die off and silence take over. She had discovered who you had been texting.

And you just stood across from the bathroom door, leaning against the wall and bouncing your leg, eyes wide, heart beating loudly, as you could feel Robin looking through everything you had been saying to Steve. 

She had been your best friend for years so she knew how you texted when you flirted, and to make matters worse, she knew how her other best friend texted when he was flirting too. 

Suddenly the door opened quickly and Robin handed you your phone back. 

“Birdy—”

She shook her head. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Her voice shook a little bit and all you could do was stand there, knowing better than to try and prod her. “I’m not—I just need to think and then we can talk about it.” She muttered. 

You watched as Robin grabbed her coat, her purse, and her airpods before you watched the door slam shut. 

The next thirty-seven minutes were filled with silence and a lot of panic cleaning. Suddenly your bed had new sheets in it, you had taken out the trash, the dishes had been done, you swept the kitchen—and even lit that midnight citrus candle Robin loved so much. 

Ever since becoming friends, you and Robin simply didn’t fight. The two of you got along so well that it felt like you were made for each other sometimes. But right now? Now was not one of those times. Instead, you paced around in literal circles because the guilt of non stop texting Steve was eating you alive. 

But it’s not like you did anything wrong either. The two of you had only been texting and nothing more. Sure it was almost every second you possibly could and he did take up all available space in your head, especially since the two of you never got around to round two of your bathroom scene—let alone finishing the first session.  

You were not dating Steve Harrington. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t do anything else without Robin’s knowledge and consent of the issue in the first place. 

You looked up when the door closed, making eye contact with your girl. In her hand, she had a brown paper bag and a drink carrier carrying her favorite drink in it, alongside yours. You smiled at her, hesitantly because she really could have thrown the drink in your face and you would have accepted it. But instead, Robin gestured towards the balcony and you nodded, grabbing some napkins and opening the window so she could step out onto the fire escape. 

Once you both were through, you each sat in your respective spots, delegating the drinks and the pastries she had picked up on her way home from whatever path she had taken herself on. The two of you did this in complete silence. At first, it was nerve-wracking, but the peaceful knowledge of the fact that you both could move in sync with one another felt good. 

You both sat and watched the people pass by, taking sips of your drinks, and taking small bites out of each of the pastries. You weren’t going to speak first—that much was obvious. 

After a moment, Robin sighed and looked at you. “You like him a lot.” 

Not a question, just a fact. 

You nodded. “Yeah…” 

“Hmm.” Robin’s mouth twisted, but not into anything malicious. She looked down at her hands. “I wish you told me you liked him sooner, because he clearly—uh, he clearly likes you back.” 

Your cheeks tinged with pink, and your hands rubbed at your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that there was a blush on your face. 

“I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless I talked to you first Birdy—” 

“I know.” 

“And neither was he—”

“I know.”

“And honestly Robin, I really do like him, and I was pretty sure he liked me back. I mean we spent an entire night out here talking and talking—I’ve never talked to anyone this much in my entire life. And he thinks I’m funny and actually answers my texts and I—I just….”

“I know.” 

You looked over at her. Your mind swimming with thoughts of Steve and Robin. It was bringing you to the verge of tears since no matter how big a crush on someone was, you would never let it come between you and Robin’s friendship. 

Robin took your hand in hers and shook her head. “It’s okay. I promise.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah–I mean. I had to think about it and at first, I was really mad, like pissed, because I thought you two had been seeing each other behind my back—which obviously I know you weren’t—and then I realized how fucking smitten you’ve been since he was here. I mean your attention was basically in Indiana.” The two giggled a little bit, a tear breaking free from your eye as Robin continued. “But you weren’t. You were still my best friend and you didn’t even do anything because you cared about me? And I’m not exactly thrilled that Dingus has won your heart over me, but I also wouldn’t not recommend him, if that makes any sense.” 

You nodded. “Birdy I–” 

She squeezed your hand. “Really. It’s okay. I’m honestly just mad about the fact that he’s answering your texts. He’s the fucking worst at texting everyone else so it must mean he really likes you. I’m extremely jealous…” 

You laughed again, just enjoying Robin’s goodness. 

“Besides, I feel like it gives me the upper hand for a question I’ve been wanting to ask. Wanna go to Cowland with me in a few weeks? The kids have been dying to meet you and they’re graduating from high school and I was going to go back anyways but since I know you probably want to see Steve again–”

“Robin. I’ve been bugging you to take me to Cowland for literal years. I’d be so down to go, not just because Harrington is there.”

The two of you shared a hug, arms wrapped lovingly around the other, squeezing almost all the air out of each other’s lungs. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Finally, the semester had ended, and it was time for Robin to go home and visit her kids. You and Robin had both walked across the stage, receiving your diplomas in your respective fields, both of you with Magna Cum Laude cords around your necks, plus a few others. Steve couldn’t make it up to the city that weekend, which was a little upsetting to Robin at first, but all was understood. 

The two of you had signed a lease for another two years, deciding that you both wanted to stay in New York City, and you both wanted to live with each other. This was really exciting for both of you, but was causing a serious amount of guilt for your best friend. 

"Robin, it's not bad news. I know I'm biased, but it's incredible news that you have a job, and you have a place to live. and Yes—-don't cut me off—Yes, it's sad because it's officially going to be your permanent home, but that's, like, that's what growing up is." 

"When the fuck did you get so...so....wise?" 

You shrugged and looked over at her with a smile. 

Since Robin didn't have a license, the two of you patiently waited at the airport for Steve to arrive. He had no idea you were suddenly in the great state of Indiana. You had never been before, and Robin had told you not to get your hopes up—but part of you was excited to see where your best friend grew up, where she was before this chapter of your lives. 

You hadn't told Steve that you were in state, at the request of Robin, since she had some sort of plan in her mind. You knew that the first step was gauging Steve's reaction to seeing you at the airport with her, which made no sense to you, but you kept your mouth shut since this was her home turf. 

A maroon BMW pulled up in front of the two of you, and you could say you were surprised by Steve's car of choice, but you would be lying. It's not that he read as a rich person, but Robin had one time told you his parents were loaded and you had laughed her off. Seeing how nice this car was, you wish you could take it back. 

Steve pulled up to the two of you and rolled the window down. "Do you actually need help with the luggage or can you—" The second he saw you, he lost track of his sentence. Eyes roaming over your face, your body. Why did it feel good to be looked at like that? 

"You're here." 

You gave him a nervous smile. "That is true, yes." 

The corner of Steve's mouth tugged up into a smile, and the two of you continued to look at one another, enjoying the fact that you were finally in each other's company again for the first time in over a month. 

Robin snapped a finger in front of your face. "Good grief you two, let's get moving. I'm not standing out here in the sun all day because we stunned Steve into silence with your presence—-and to be fair, if you surprised me, I would be shocked into silence too by how excited I would be— pop the trunk Steven— to see you, but this is not the time. I want to get on the road as quickly as possible." 

Steve snapped out of the trance between you both and popped the trunk of the car. He quickly got out of the car and moved around it to grab the luggage from you, and Robin, to put into the trunk. 

"You suck ass, Harrington. You'll get out of the car for her, but was gonna make me put my bags in the back myself." 

Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, almost like an exasperated mother. "Robs, seriously. You know I would have gotten out to help you." 

"I'm sure you would have Steve. I'm sure." 

"You're not even in Hawkins and you're being a pain in my ass." 

The two of them continued to squabble, making their way into the front of the car while you slid into the back. It was the sort of friendly banter that you could get used to. 

And you did because, after about ten minutes into the drive, you had completely zoned out and watched as the roads turned into fields. You had never seen such flat land before, it was... bizarre. The world felt like it was supposed to have things reaching towards the sky—trees, skyscrapers, mountains—but not here. It was tall grass and nothingness. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just different—something almost serene about the vastness of it all. 

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be grounded, but you couldn't speak to that since you had literally run away to the city to live in the sky and aim for the stars. 

Your introspection about the human condition of reaching for the stars was interrupted by Robin. 

"Right Y/n?" 

"Mhm." 

"Were you even listening?" Steve huffed. 

"To be so honest, I have no fucking idea what you said birdy. Not one clue." 

Robin groaned and turned around in her seat to look at you. "How long have you been tuned out; I don't know how much of this I can restate." 

"Basically since we left the city." 

Robin groaned again: way louder, and with a lot more dramatics. "I'm not explaining this again. You agreed with me regardless, so it's the truth." 

Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled at you. It was one of those smiles that could make a girl trip over her own feet, and it was directed at you, making your insides melt. Steve had clearly been out in the sun since he was a little tanner than you last remember, and he had a small swatch of freckles across his nose and cheeks. It was adorable. 

"Oh! Oh! We're almost there!" Robin exclaimed, and you broke your eyes away from Steve's to look at the old sign she was pointing to. 

Hawkins - 5 Miles

"Five minutes til you enter a literal hellscape." 

Robin swatted Steve's arm and smiled back at you. "It's not that bad I swear. Like sure, it's a bit of a Cowland, that much is true, but—-"

"You don't have to justify Cowland to me Birdy. The only thing you have to justify is the fact that we have been on the road for almost an hour and I have yet to see a single cow. Now that's just ridiculous." 

Robin smiled at you and turned back around, facing the front again. She reached over and snatched Steve's phone (something you realized was a habit with everyone) and opened his Spotify, scrolling until she found the right song. She cranked the volume up and rolled the windows down, screaming along the words to Everybody Wants to Rule the World. How fitting. 

You rolled your window down and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your face. While you had never been to Indiana before, or most of the middle of the country, something you definitely loved was how fresh the air was. No buildings or mass amounts of cars were polluting the air—just the grass and trees. 

Steve looked in the rearview mirror at you again, and you looked up, feeling his gaze on you. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. The pure joy that you were here. And you knew it was going to be a good two weeks here in Hawkins. 

That was until it rained for three days straight, and you and Robin were basically stuck inside her room with nowhere to go. Robin's parents were kind enough to lend you their cars when they got home from work since Robin didn't drive and you didn't have a car, but that meant that if either of you wanted to go anywhere during the day, you had to bike or walk and neither of which, in the rain, was really ideal. You could always wait for Steve to get off of work, but by then you'd have Robin's parent's car so you were stuck.

But on the fourth day, you woke up to the smell of petrichor and a shining sun peering through the curtains. This was perfect because of you and Robin's strict itinerary. 

Friday Day: Exploring the town/Lovers Lake

Friday Evening: Graduation 

Friday Night: Grad Party

When Robin told you that you were spending your day at Lover's Lake, you thought she was actually going to murder you since there were no real places named that, but when the two of you were picked up by Steve to head to the lake, you found out it was, in fact, a real place. 

It was actually kind of pretty, considering it was surrounded by woods. You were calmed by the sense of height within the area from the trees, but the actual visage of the lake was beautiful, and the sun reflecting off of that made it feel a bit more magical. 

You were decked out in that same hoodie from the other day, as well as your favorite pair of shorts, both of which were covering up your favorite bathing suit. Swimming was enjoyable, but you weren't sure if today was a swimming type of day or a lounging in the sun type of day. 

Either way, it was a 'try-not-to-stare-at-Steve-Harrington' day. 

Your chauffeur started to help two other guys around his age, set up a picnic blanket, secure an umbrella into the sand, and set up the speaker for the music.

Nancy, the girl you had yet to be properly introduced to, got out of the car she drove here in with one of the boys, and walked over to you, a bright smile on her face. 

"Hi! I'm Nancy, it's so nice to finally meet you. Robin hasn't shut up about you since you first met at college." 

Your face lit up and you tried to cover up the smirk on your face. "Since we first met? Damn Birdy, I had no idea..." 

"Thanks, Nance, now she's not going to shut up about it for fucking weeks," Robin mumbled, slinking off to go grab more things from Steve's car. 

"It's really nice to meet you, Nancy. I've heard a lot about you too." You smiled and shook her hand—it felt a little serious for a meeting, but you got the sense that was just how Nancy was. 

"Did Robin add your songs to the playlist? It gets really varied at times, but it's the only way we figured out to let each person be happy with the music if we all put fifteen songs on there, and then hit shuffle." 

You shook your head, really confused about what this girl was saying to you. Nancy handed you her phone and scrolled through the playlist, showing you everyone's music picks, and explaining it in further detail. When you finally understood, you paused. "So can I add anything? No questions asked?" 

Nancy nodded, smirking at the slight twinkle in your eyes. You added yourself to the playlist and handed her back her phone. "I'll add them before we start the playlist so that way they're in there fair and square." 

Nancy nodded and then looked over at the boys. "So! You've met Robin, and obviously Steve, has Robin introduced you to anyone else yet?" 

You shook your head 'No' and Nancy took your hand and dragged you off into the sand towards the gaggle of boys all staring at the umbrella since it was not as sturdy as they thought it would be. 

After a single gust of wind, it had knocked right over. 

"Nance there's no need to man-handle y/n—-" 

Nancy rolled her eyes and stopped short of the group. "Go get some rocks Steve, and pile it around the base, I'm pretty sure we went over this last summer..." 

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure it ended up not working in the long run there Wheeler." The long-haired guy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. 

"Do they always give you this much lip even when they're wrong?" You half-whispered to Nancy, causing the two of you to try and cover your laughs. 

"Y/n! You're supposed to be on my side here." Steve threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his hips. 

"You look like a mom." You blurted out, causing yourself and the rest of the young adults to laugh together. Except for Steve, who was fake fuming, but really just at a loss. He really didn't think he looked like a mother but if a girl he had hung out with for no more than three days thinks so, then he might as well be fucked. 

"Where did Robin find you?" 

You looked across the group to the guy with longer hair, a tight tee with some sort of skull on it, and black bathing suit shorts. He was attractive, that was sure enough, but he definitely wasn't the pretty boy Harrington wanted to take a bite out of. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Take a wild guess." 

"Touché. So. More importantly, what are you adding to the playlist." 

You shrugged. "You'll find out. I'm guessing you're Eddie." 

"In the flesh." He did one of those bows that was reminiscent of a movie from your childhood—it was really fucking nerdy.

"And so you must be Jonathan." Your tone shifted, slightly nicer, less of a bite to it. It stumped Steve, watching you clearly figure out and adapt yourself to the person you were talking to, but never being one to actually hurt the other person, just tease lightly. 

Jonathan nodded, his arm was already around Nancy's shoulder, and he gave you a small 'Hey". 

Robin shouted over at the group for help with all three of the coolers, and you watched Jonathan and Nancy go over to help her with them. You helped Eddie and Steve set the umbrella again (this time properly), and moved on to setting up your towel and bag. 

Steve placed his towel on the other side of yours and sat down on the ground next to you. Eddie had moved on to setting up his area around the picnic table, reorganizing coolers, and setting up the various snacks for the group throughout the day. 

"So..." 

You turned and looked over at Steve, who was looking right at you, a brightness in his eyes that the sun couldn't match. It looked right, like it was supposed to always be there. 

"So..." You responded, smiling back at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" 

You sighed and leaned back on your hands, looking out over the water. "Robin thought that it would be a good...test of character, I think is how she put it. She, uh, got a hold of my phone a few weeks ago, and made the connection about why I had been so..." 

Steve bit his lip. "So...?" 

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you if you're going to be a jerk about it." 

Steve held his hands up, "I swear I won't be." 

"Fine." You huffed and looked down at your legs. "Why I was so...attached to my phone, and blushing all the time, and why I kept smiling when I would get a text....and yeah." 

You saw as Steve's face flashed with a wave of emotions, all of which managed to stay just below the surface. One of these days you would have to just stare at his face all day so you could learn very little mannerism, every little quick about this man. 

"You, uh, smile every time I text you?" 

You pursed your lips but then nodded. "Yeah. I—uh, I do." 

"Hm." Steve nodded and looked out over the lake. 

"Yeah." 

You looked over at Steve just as he looked at you, causing both of you to smile again. Just as Steve was about to say something, you heard Robin call across the beach. 

"Babe!" 

You huffed slightly, the smile on your face becoming a little fake before turning and looking over at your best friend. "Yeah, babe?" 

"Add your fucking music so I can hit shuffle." 

"Aye Aye Captain." You gave her a mock salute and pulled out your phone, turning back towards Steve. 

"Am I seriously going to get judged for what I put on?" 

"We actually have a no complaints rule, since a certain someone would always bitch when his music never came on." 

Your face lit up with amusement and nodded, before looking down at the playlist and scrolling through the songs already on there to see what had been added already. 

"You really like the seventies and eighties, huh Harrington." 

He shrugged and smiled. "I think I could have easily been an eighties heartthrob." 

You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm slightly. "Yeah okay, sure." 

Steve feigned a gasp. "You don't think I could've been!" 

This caused you to laugh but continued to sort through your music, choosing the fifteen songs you felt like you wanted to hear most today. 

"I'm sure you could have Steve. I'm sure." 

Steve clutched his heart and fell backward. "You're killin' me here princess!" 

You hit his thigh, not hard, but just enough to get your point across. "Don't call me that, unless you're going to commit to finishing the job because you owe me...big time." Your eyebrows were raised expectantly, but your voice was low so only Steve could hear you. 

Steve smirked, and his eyes went a little dark for a moment before the sun returned them to their caramel color. "Trust me, now that you're here..." 

"Good." You smiled and laid back on your towel, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face and thighs, and enjoying the company of the smirking man next to you. 

And you both stayed like this for the next hour, only getting up when food was offered. Steve eventually left your side, deciding to go for a swim. You opted out but enjoyed the view.

“He’s something else…”

You turned and looked at Robin sitting next to you, nodding in agreement. 

“He really likes you.” 

Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Teasing her. 

Robin shook her head and smiled. “I don’t have to. I mean, I've known him for years, but he’s never been like this about any girl, not even Nance.”

“Steve and Nancy dated?” 

“They were the couple in high school. Did not end well, but the two of them are still good friends, surprisingly.”

You mouthed a soft ‘oh’. 

“But…I’m being dead serious Y/n, he’s never been so…chill, peaceful…I don't know—”

“Sure.” Nancy chimed in and sat down on the opposite side of you. 

“What?” 

“He’s just so…sure about you. Like yeah, he can be a cocky asswipe, but he’s always freaking out about whether or not something is right, or going the way he thinks it’s supposed to.” 

Robin nodded along while you tried to breathe evenly again. Not that you didn’t get those feelings from Steve, you absolutely did, but hearing about it from both Nancy and Robin at the same time was a bit overwhelming. 

“He just, He’s so calm.” 

“We’re not even dating.” You sighed, crossing your arms and looking out at the man in the water. He caught you looking at him, and winked at you, sending you a smile along with it. You waved slightly at him, returning the smile. 

“He hasn’t asked you yet?” 

“Nancy, it’s the twenty-first century, girls can ask guys out too.” 

You rolled your eyes at Robin and shook your head. “No, not yet. We’ve only actually spent about fifteen hours in each other’s presence, with one of those being the hour drive down from Indianapolis…”

“Holy shit, and he’s that….wow.” Nancy leaned back on her hands, looking out over the water. 

Plus we didn’t want to start dating behind Robin’s backs and have her hate us forever and ever. But you kept that thought to yourself. 

The man in question decided that he had enough of the staring from the group of girls sitting on the beach, and waded his way over to you three, before walking out of the lake. “Can I help you three?” 

Steve was literally dripping hotness off of his body. The sun backlit him, creating this holy look about him, and the water droplets slowly made their way down his chest and abs and down towards—You snapped your eyes back up to his face, where he was watching every single movement of your eyes, smirking slightly. It was fairly pornographic and would have you dragging Steve over to the car and fucking him senseless, but you’d settle for eye-fucking him instead since Robin was directly next to you, and so was Nancy. 

“Just questioning Robin’s girl here.” 

Steve’s eyes stayed trained on you and he raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, then why were all of you staring out at me huh?” 

“Well, Harrington if you must know...”

“–I must Robin.” 

“I’m just learning things. That’s all.” You tilted your head slightly, almost teasing him slightly. Your gaze was already enough to make anyone blush, but Steve Harrington wasn’t anybody. However, he immediately lost the shine of confidence at the thought of you, Robin, and Nancy talking about him. 

“Learning what…exactly?” 

You, alongside the other two girls, just shrugged, causing Steve to eye all three of you up and down, and head over to where Eddie was cooking up some lunch for you. 

Sighing, you fully laid all the way down again and closed your eyes. “I think I’m just going to lie in the sun for a while and internalize every little thing the two of you just said to me.” 

You didn’t hear as the two girls got up and left you alone. You also didn’t hear as someone else took his place next to you. You just drifted off into a light sleep, enjoying the warmth the sun was providing you so that you could just breathe for a moment and figure out everything that was going on inside your head. 

First off, you liked Steve. And Steve liked you back. This was obvious before the girls told you, but the confirmation was a plus. 

Second, Steve hadn’t mentioned ever going on another date, ever. You hadn’t even gone on a first one if you remembered correctly. 

Third, You were unsure if Steve Harrington wanted to actually date you, or even kiss you. Sure, you rode his face like you were in one of those bull games in the rodeo bar, and he clearly seemed to enjoy it. But the only time he actually mentioned getting physical with you was either while it was happening, or if you brought it up first. Was he actually interested in you, or just being a gentleman? 

This shit was fucking hard, that’s for sure. 

“Hey.” 

You hummed, letting Steve know you heard him. 

“They’re going on a walk through the woods, wanna join?” 

You shook your head, not wanting to get up from your spot on the towel. 

Steve was silent for the next few moments. You assumed that he was staying on the beach with you since the others grabbed a couple things and started walking off into the woods. 

“You’re not going?” 

“Nope.” 

You opened one eye and looked over at the boy next to you. He was looking right at you–a small smile flashed across his face. He was nervous. “I-I hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah…Steve, it is.” 

“Good.” He hummed and smiled at you. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Hawkins decided on having a Friday Night Graduation, and while at first, you were hesitant, you realized you’d rather have a graduation at sunset than have to wake up at the crack of dawn to watch kids you didn’t know walk across a stage. 

You had gotten slightly dressed up, wearing a summery dress that didn’t leave you overheating, but was one step above casual. Sitting in between Steve and Robin was definitely something to behold considering they wouldn’t stop whispering to you, pointing out their kids. 

The Salutatorian was one of theirs—a Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, as you found out. His speech was beautiful and even made you tear up a bit, which meant nothing since the group you were sitting with was all crying alongside you. 

Eventually, the graduates walked, and you watched your friends stand up and down, screaming and cheering for their kids each time one of them walked across the stage. You had learned all of them using a Quizlet, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up any names. So far, you had learned that Dustin Henderson was Steve’s favorite, with Max Mayfield being a close second. (from what you had heard, Max could easily be your favorite). Max was dating Lucas Sinclair, who was on the basketball team, which you found out Steve had been coaching for the past few years. Then, there was Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, and Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s brother. Mike was dating Elle Hopper, who was best friends with Max. But Elle’s Dad was getting married to Will’s Mom…

You repeated this little thing over and over in your head, trying to wrap your brain around what could have possibly connected all of these older teens to Robin since she and Steve didn’t even talk until high school, and Steve only dated Nancy in junior year and—Honestly, it was weird, considering you really couldn’t imagine twenty-three-year-olds hanging out with eighteen-year-olds, but you lost all your doubt when you saw how connected this group was—whatever had happened between them, bonded them for life. 

Eventually, the caps got tossed, the principal said a few words, and they were all dismissed. The small group of you waited off to the side, knowing that they were going to all talk to their parents first. Steve stood next to you, and placed a hand on your waist, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. “Tired yet?” 

You laughed softly and shook your head, keeping your head straight ahead because if you turned, you were going to kiss him right on his stupid lips. 

“No, but I am ready to start drinking again.” 

This caused Steve to laugh slightly and straighten up, but his hand stayed on the small of your back until a gaggle of kids in green and white grad robes came running at you all. 

You took a step back watching as hugs and congratulations were thrown out at all of them. It was heartwarming, truly, to see such a family in action. You swore you saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve and Dustin having a lightsaber battle at one point. 

Robin took your hand and dragged you over to the curly-headed one. “Y/n, this is Dustin, Dustin, Y/n. The Roommate.” 

All hell broke loose when Robin announced your title. The children’s heads all snapped towards you and they started to crowd you, which wouldn’t have been as intimidating if you had met them all before, or if they were shorter than you, which a bunch of them were not. 

“You’re her Roommate?” “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh my god, we finally got to meet you?” “You’re a lot prettier in person.” “Where did you get that dress, it’s stunning.” “You came to watch us walk across a stage? That’s definitely a choice…” “I wouldn’t go to Indiana if I lived in a cool place like the city ” “It’s literally so nice to finally meet you.” “You’re like really pretty.” “How did you meet Robin?” 

“Alright Alright! Let the woman breathe my god.” Steve yelled out to the group, as he took notice of your wide eyes. It’s not that you were nervous about meeting them, it’s just that the wave of questions was a tad bit overwhelming and unexpected. 

“Alright.” Steve sighed and looked at you. “Ready?” 

You furrowed your brows. “For?” 

“Well.” Steve started to point to each child as if he was giving you a speedrun introduction. “That’s Dustin, That’s Max and Lucas. Will, Mike, And that’s Elle. Am I missing anyone?” 

The group managed to give Steve a full unison moment of attitude. 

“You still look like such a mom Harrington.” You laughed a bit when he put his hands back on his hips. 

“God I knew I’d like you,” Max spoke up, causing you to smile at her. 

“It’s really nice to meet all of you!” 

They all responded back, at the same time, and then scattered. Whatever initial excitement was there had finally dispersed, meaning you weren’t the center of attention, and you could breathe again. Well, except for one kid, that came up to you. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin doesn’t shut up about you when she’s home.” 

“Good things I hope?” 

Dustin nodded, and suspiciously eyed how close you and Steve were standing. “All good things. But I’m surprised at the fact that you came to Indiana.” 

You shrugged. “Robin asked, so I came. Pretty easy decision. Best friends and all that.” 

“So, are you going to be at Steve’s later?” 

“What’s with the interrogation Henderson.” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m just asking her questions! She’s new! I can’t just..let her into the group—”

Steve scoffed, “As if you are the final decision maker in that?” 

“Uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Sorry Dipshit. The older half really like her, so she’s in.” 

“The rest of us have to vet her and you know it. Sure, Robin wouldn’t be friends with her if she sucked, but the rest of us don’t know her—”

Dustin eyed you up and down again. “I’ll allow it, but I still need further proof.” 

“Don’t be a dick, Dustin.” Max cut in. “She’s pretty, she clearly can put up with Steve’s shit since she’s willing to stand next to him this long. Why can’t there be another girl in the group?” 

Dustin’s mouth floundered for a moment before he settled on his answer. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just….” 

“Dustin.” You smiled at him. “I’m not asking to infiltrate. I get it. This is clearly a tightly bonded family, and I’m not trying to just waltz in here and take a spot. But let me give you my qualifications and you can mull it over, yeah?” 

This amused Steve. Somehow, you had managed to entertain Dustin, and still manage to deescalate whatever the kid was thinking about. Dustin agreed to your terms and waited to hear what you had to say. 

“First off, unlike Robin, I have a license. I don’t own a car but I live in like the major city of major cities, so I don’t exactly need one. But I can drive. Second. I am not a current permanent addition to the group, at least presence-wise. I am like a fun aunt who will let you stay in the city with her when you want to get out of Hawkins, and I only show up at family functions to spice it up a bit. Third, I have traveled to several different countries in the past two years, which means I can and will bring you back goodies from other countries. Fourth, I know how to party correctly, which means I am at a good time, and I will provide references if you need them. Fifth, and finally. I am over twenty-one, which means, I can and will buy you things that you can’t buy yet. This includes weed from a major city where it is in fact better than the stuff you get here.” 

Dustin was taking all of this in, slightly bewildered by the fact that you literally just listed out your qualifications. 

“Oh. And a sixth one, thrown in for free, I can commit to a bit Henderson.” You winked at him before walking over to where Robin had been talking to Will about something. 

You felt Steve’s eyes on you but didn’t turn around, instead basking in the glory of dropping your over qualifications to win Dustin Henderson’s approval. You integrated yourself into her conversation with Will, enjoying the setting sun in the background. Tonight was going to be a good one, especially since you had decided that tonight was the night you wanted to talk to Steve about whatever was going on between the two of you, especially after everything that happened this morning. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The kids managed to convince Steve to let them throw a graduation party at his apartment. Now this usually wouldn’t be such a big deal, but considering that they all could drink and party now, the space almost felt a bit too small. Especially since they invited some of their other friends that you had not yet met. Which is how you ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, watching all of the kids interact with each other. 

“Hey.” 

You looked over and smiled once you realized who it was. “Hey.”

“Wanna, uh–go into the kitchen with me for a second?” 

You nodded and got up, following him past the decently sized group of people, and into the kitchen. It was not a spacious kitchen by any means, but there was a noticeably smaller amount of people, so it felt a million times better. You could breathe. 

Luckily for you, you had been drinking since before noon, and it was well on its way to being one am. The true sign of a lady is how well she day drinks. You were on the balance of buzzed and tipsy, toeing the line with perfect grace. This gave you the confidence to feel a bit better about the fact that you were someone who was extremely touchy, which Steve clearly didn’t mind. Your hand had made its way to his chest, and you were gently tracing shapes. 

“What’s up, Steve.” 

“I–uh.” 

You watched as his eyes flitted up to where the rest of the group was in his living room. He was silent for a few moments, which gave you time to really look over his face, and enjoy just how gorgeous he was. The curve of his lips. The slightly blush he always carried on his cheeks. The hazelnut color of his eyes. All while you were patiently waiting for him to sort through the words in his head. 

“I’m really glad you came to Hawkins.” 

“Me too.” You smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice for a bit of flirtatious emphasis. 

“Because I had a really really good time in the city with you.” 

You nodded, prompting him to continue talking. 

This caused Steve’s smile to grow, with what you were sure were tints of blush across his cheeks. 

“And I—well, I don’t exactly know what to do beyond this because you live in the city and I live here. And Robin might actually kill me if I ask you out, or if she found out the other things we started to get up to.” Steve was talking as quietly as he could, not keen on Robin finding out the compromising positions you had been in when Steve was in New York. “I know she has probably already said something to you but…I don't know. How do you feel about it because–” 

For the first time in over a month, you were able to actually kiss him, instead of just dreaming about his lips, his mint chapstick, the way his hands felt around your waist. You had placed your beverage down on the counter and cupped his cheeks with your hands, basically pulling his lips to yours.

That warmth from before came crawling up your spine and filled your body with light. Fuck, you wanted to feel this for as long as you possibly could. Enjoying Steve. 

But eventually, your proverbial luck would run out, since Robin cleared her throat from the doorway. She wasn’t exactly staring at either of you, but you couldn’t see her face since you covered your mouth with one of your hands, and wrapped the other arm around your stomach, looking away from her, losing all contact with Steve. Steve had quickly pulled one of his hands away, the other one still on your waist. You weren’t sure if Robin could see that one since your body was blocking it. Steve’s thumb ran up and down your hip, trying to calm you down. 

He could feel your heartbeat racing. How embarrassing was that? 

Even the calming sensation of Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down on your hip simply could not bring your heart rate down to a nice even 120/80. You’re pretty sure your Apple watch just pinged you about an increased heart rate. 

The only worse thing was that Robin had just walked in on you kissing her best friend. 

Her two supposed best friends kissed each other. 

“I–uh–I was going to ask you where Y/n went…but um, I can see you’re both a bit busy…” The sound of your name made you wince. 

Robin’s voice was strained, and she was trying to keep whatever emotions she was feeling at bay. Technically she had said this was fine, but she had never had to witness it or deal with it, in person before. 

 “Robin–”

“No, guys, seriously stop.” Robin took a breath. You could tell this was a bit weird for her, but she managed a brave face for the moment. “We talked about it. I’m okay with it. It’s just…It’s going to take me a second to get used to actually seeing it. Honestly, I just—I really wasn’t expecting to find you guys making out in the kitchen 

“Are you sure?” You finally turned your head and looked at her, more nervous about how she would react to this than anything else in your life. 

Robin smiled at you and nodded. “Really, actually, I’m fine. I am. I just, I’m going to go, um…I’ll be out back with Eddie if you need me.” She quickly left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again, to let out the breath both of you were holding. 

“I thought that was going to head in a way worse direction if I’m being so honest with you.” You muttered, squeezing Steve’s arm. 

“You’re telling me. I almost fucking melted when she first came in.” 

This caused you to let out a brief laugh. 

Steve sighed and rubbed his thumb up and down on your hip again. “I think she needs time getting used to it. We all do.” 

After another moment of staring at one another, the feeling of contentment made your heart swell, shoving some bravery forward and out your mouth. 

“I like you a lot, Steve.” 

He smiled. “M-Me too.” 

“Oh, so you agree? You like you a lot? That’s just what a girl wants to hear, damn.” 

Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No no, I meant I Like you a lot, not that I like me a lot—actually—” 

“Steve.” You cut him off, smiling at him. “I was teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” 

Steve couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face harder if he tried. You watched it slowly reach across his eyes and he shook his head. “I mean it though–a lot. I don’t think that even covers it.” 

You placed your hand on his arm and squeezed it. “Don’t flatter me too much or my ego will inflate like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters—”

“WHO JUST SAID GHOSTBUSTERS.” 

Dustin popped into the kitchen, looking around for the culprit. His eyes landed on you two and his eyebrows raised. “Robin’s friend Steve? Really? That’s the girl you’ve been–”

“Dustin. Enough.” Steve tensed up, cutting off the younger kid. 

“No no no.” You moved out of Steve’s arms and towards Dustin. “Please, Dustin. Tell me more, the girl Steve, what exactly.” 

“Dustin I swear to god—” 

You looked over your shoulder at Steve and winked at him, before placing a hand on Dustin’s arm in a very similar way to how you had just touched Steve’s arm. Now, you weren’t a manipulative person by any means. But men were easy to get information out of if you just knew how. 

You felt Steve’s eyes burning into you, watching your every move. 

“Dustin, do you have a girlfriend?” 

He looked at you weirdly but nodded. “Yeah. What does Suzie have to do with this?” 

“How do you feel about her?” 

Dustin’s shoulders detensed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just tell me about her.” 

Dustin, who basically never talked about Suzie anymore since he didn’t want to annoy the group, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Well! She’s the perfect woman. Smart, kind, snarky, bossy, gorgeous—hotter than anyone ever—sorry. But she means the world to me—.” 

You nodded along, listening to everything he had to say about Suzie, even popping in with clarifying questions, or asking how they met. 

“Wow, that’s a long time to be dating someone so young.” 

Dustin nodded and shrugged. “When you know you know.” 

Steve was just watching you, completely fascinated. There were things Dustin was telling you that he had never even heard before. But he knew you were up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what you were doing. 

You nodded and cast a quick glance back to Steve, who met your eyes. “That’s true.” 

Steve almost blushed at the way you looked at him when you said that, making your eyes soften for a moment. When you know you know. 

“Why did you want to know about Suzie?” 

“I saw you texting her earlier. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for your graduation…” 

Dustin shrugged. “She’s coming up next week for about a month so I’d rather have her for a whole month than just a weekend. Besides, we’re both going to the same college so…I’d rather focus on what we do have than not, you know.” 

“You are very wise for a high school graduate Dustin.” 

Dustin shrugged. “Well, I’ve been saying that for years but now I have the degree to back it up….Alright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ve accepted your application into the group here.” 

“Oh thank you, I was a bit worried there.” 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Please, you passed the second I heard the word Ghostbusters come outta your mouth.”

This made you smile. “Dustin, one last question, and then I’ll let you go back to your friends—”

“Actually, I’d much rather be in here since you seem a lot cooler than half of the people in there.”

“I appreciate that Dustin thank you. But, my question is. Does Steve look at his phone like that? The way you were describing Suzie…” 

Dustin scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen him so glued to a screen before–”

“Dustin...”

You shushed Steve. “Let the man continue Harington, God.” 

Dustin preened up a little bit at the sound of being called a man, making him continue. “He’s like…I’ve actually never seen him like this before. He’s always checking his phone but he’s smiling at it and laughing at things…oh…You’re good.” 

You squeezed his arm before letting go. “Dustin, I need you to know that I am actually very interested in your relationship with this girl and I do hope I get to hear more about Suzie, I really do. I also appreciated the information you just gave me.” 

“You’re the phone huh.” 

“You’re a Genius Henderson.” Steve glared at him, definitely trying to conceal the embarrassment he was feeling. 

“So Dustin, tell me more about the way he’s been acting.” 

“Henderson if you don’t leave the kitchen right now–”

Dustin took a step away from you. “I like you, a lot, y/n. But I think I’ve done enough damage for Stevie over there, so I’ll leave you alone.” 

You nodded and gave him a little wave as he took off back into the living room. You turned around on the spot, facing Harrington, who was all but embarrassed at Dustin exposing him. 

“You smile at your phone when I text you huh?” 

“Oh shut up, you knew that already.” 

“It’s nice to get confirmation.” Your hands clasped behind your back, and Steve took the opportunity to walk over to you and place a hand under your chin. 

Your breath? Left the fucking building, maybe even the whole state of Indiana. 

“Confirmation that I liked you?” 

He was lifting your chin up with just one knuckle, just enough that your head tilted up to look at him. 

“I feel like what we did in the bathroom was confirmation enough.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “And if not, then kissing you a few minutes ago should’ve been.” 

You hummed, eyes closing, expecting his lips over yours. 

“You just like to tease me, huh.” 

“Steve.” You whined softly, leaning forward a bit, trying to capture his lips in yours. But he just shifted back slightly, not letting your lips do anything more than ghost over yours. 

“I like to tease too, ya know.” He muttered, his other hand sliding back onto your waist, pulling your body against his. 

You hummed, waiting for him to make his move, giving up the little control you had moments before since the prize was a kiss.

But no kiss came. Steve Harrington dropped his hands from your waist and chin, and stepped back, grabbing his beer off of the counter and winking at you. “If it’s a game you want sweetheart, I can play it too.” 

You groaned and watched as he backed out of the room, leaving you once again up against a counter and completely wound up. 

A few hours later, you had found yourself rolling a joint for the older group, basically giving Eddie a masterclass in the art. He was extremely doubtful about the fact that your weed would be better than his, but when he took his first hit, Eddie Munson coughed. 

The small group of you—Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve—all stared at him with wide eyes. You gently took the joint from his hand took a hit from it, and offered it to your right to Steve, who took a smaller hit than you. Since he had smoked with you before, he didn’t cough, much to Eddie’s dismay. 

Jonathan gratefully took it next, muttering something about Cali Weed, which you didn’t fully catch. Eddie turned to you, eyes extremely red. “Jesus Christ Y/n. What the fuck is that?” 

You exhaled slowly, impressing everyone, but Robin, with the amount of smoke in your lungs. “I say this with so much love in my heart Eddie—It’s good weed.” 

Eddie went to scoff but started coughing again, causing you to smile a bit. You felt the first hit in your face, always. No matter how many times, your face was always the first. It felt slightly buzzy, like a current was pulsing through your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You leaned against Steve, watching as the joint made its rounds. 

“Nancy, not a big smoker?” 

Jonathan shook his head, exhaling the smoke over his shoulder to not blow it all in your face. “Can hold her liquor better than any of us though.” 

“I buy it.” You smiled, resting your head against Steve’s shoulder. 

Robin stuck her tongue out at you from across the circle before taking the joint and taking her own hit. 

“So Y/n.” 

You hummed and darted your eyes towards Eddie. 

“You told Henderson that you’ve been to many different countries, like where?” 

“I don't think that would make sense even if I wasn’t slightly high and slightly intoxicated.” You laughed and shook your head. ”But, uh, I don’t know. I’ve been a lot of places. Do you want me to just start listing them until you find one you like? Like those little Rolodex things old ladies have?” 

Eddie nodded, taking the joint from Robin and taking another hit, this time not coughing. 

You sighed and yawned a little bit, taking the joint when it was offered to you. Instead of taking a puff, you passed it on. 

“Alright so, uh, let's see. I’ve been to about twenty states, and that includes Alaska. I’ve been to Canada a bunch. I have been to the Caribbean, so a bunch of those bad boys. Where else…”

“Serbia.” Robin listed for you, causing you to nod against Steve’s shoulder. 

“Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, all three of which are gorgeous by the way. Which then takes me to Europe so uh those countries, plus obviously England, and Ireland, both Republic of and Northern. Then, let's see, France…”

“France was a good one for you.” 

You nodded. “Paris was good for me in many ways.” You made suggestive eyebrows at Robin who then burst into laughter. 

“Then tell us about it.” 

For some reason, you were starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t your biggest fan. Now normally, if a man didn’t like you, you couldn’t find even a singular fuck to give, but this was bugging you. Maybe because he was so close with Robin. 

“Well.” your gaze hardened a bit as you looked at him. “I think I managed to spend a total of sixteen hours in the Louvre during my entire week in Paris. I spent another day seeing the rest of the Musees that I wanted to see, and then I did the rest of the touristy things the rest of the time.” 

“What about the Nightlife?” 

“What about it?” 

“Tell us about it.” 

“Eddie…” Steve warned, feeling you tense up as Eddie continued to poke and prod at you. His words weren’t sharp, they weren’t knives. But they felt like tiny little shoves across your chest. 

“Steve, it’s fine.” You muttered. 

“If you must know, France has good nightlife, but if you want to party, you go to Spain. If you want exclusive yet fun clubs, you go to Berlin. Anyone who’s traveled outside the continental US could tell you that.” Your jaw set, but the smile on your face was a bit devilish. “But Eddie, dear, what I get up to in foreign cities in terms of my sexuality is between me, my phone, Robin Buckley, and the whiteboard in our apartment.” 

Steve gasped. “That’s what those tally marks are.” 

Robin shook her head but then paused. “Well no, not...kinda I guess. But not exactly what you're thinking.” 

“I slept on your couch. You dirty dirty women.” He grumbled, removing his hand from your thigh, except it was just to lean back a bit, not to move you away from him. 

“We’re both extremely competitive when it comes down to the basics. Besides, Robin was the one who started it, she said that she used to tally how many swings and misses you would take at your old job.” 

Steve hung his head and laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh alongside him. “Did she tell you what that job even was?” 

“Oh Scoops? Absolutely. We cut up that stupid fucking costume one year for her Halloween costume.” 

“That was you!?!”

You nodded and took a sip out of the drink you had brought out. “I’m also a costume designer.” You hummed. “Multi-hyphenate.” 

That joke was meant for Jonathan since it caused him to cough on the air in his lungs. “Resume building 101.” 

You mock cheers’d to that and rested back against Steve’s side, his hand moving back to your thigh. 

Eventually, it was just you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve left, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of the stars. You had forgotten how stunning they could be since you had basically lived within the city for the past few years, not really going out to places where you could see the sky. It was just marvelous to you. 

Robin and Eddie stood up to go, meaning you also had to go. But Robin just kissed your head and whispered in your ear before you could stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You nodded, smiling at her and taking her hand in yours. “I love you, Robin Buckley. Marry me.” 

This caused Robin to burst out in laughter, and she nodded at you. “It’s a date babe.” She said her goodbyes to Steve and left with Eddie who was your ride home. 

The two of you sat together, with you listening as Steve told you about someone, the constellations that he knew, with you lying on his lap, while he pointed out the stars. 

“And that one is Orion’s belt. It’s probably the easiest to spot since it’s literally just three stars in a row.” He whispered, not wanting to break the silence the two of you had created. 

You hummed. “That’s the hunter right?” 

Steve shrugged. “You probably know better than I do.”

You managed to sit up and face him, lips seconds away from him. “And what would make you say that?” 

He shrugged again, no longer looking up at the stars in the sky, but rather at the stars in your eyes. 

Your eyes flitted to his lips quickly, silently asking for permission, which he answered by placing them against yours. Your body exploded like the sun, radiating the peace you had felt all those months ago at the cafe, and then again in the kitchen. Neither of you moved, just sitting together like two lovers would, slowly kissing one another under the universe. 

Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled away, enjoying the sound you let out as he did so. You tilted your head slightly, leaning forward to capture his lips again in yours, but he dodged your lips and kissed your neck instead. His lips found under your ear and kissed there. “Wanna head inside.” He muttered. 

You hummed a positive response, unsure of how the two of you managed to make it inside and towards his bedroom. All you could focus on was the feeling on his lips, on yours, on your neck. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, brushing up your thighs, tugging on your hair. 

But you found yourself backed up against his bedroom door. His body pressed into yours, kissing your neck. “Fuck me, pretty girl.” 

If that’s what he wanted you to do then who were you to deny him that much? Your head lulled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you just moaned in response. Your legs were on the ground, but the only thing really keeping you up against the door was Steve’s knee, which had made its place between your thighs.

Steve’s lips quickly found that sweet spot right above your collarbone and he gently sucked on it, causing your hips to roll forwards and your eyes to roll backward. You inhaled and arched your back the more he sucked on it, nipping it to add some color to his mark. 

Steve felt as your hand snaked its way around his waist, your fingers cool against his skin. You tugged on his shirt, making him pull away slightly and rip his shirt off of his body. 

Both of your hands went to his chest, so you could run your fingers across it, feeling as much of him as you could. 

“Steve?” You muttered as he continued to kiss across your neck. 

He paused and looked up at you. 

“If you don’t do something in the next minute I’m locking you out of your room and fucking myself.” 

He chuckled, pupils dilating at the thought of you touching yourself. But he shook the thoughts away and pulled you in for a kiss. “As you wish, Pretty girl.” 

You hummed at his words, removing your shirt when he tapped on your back and pulled away from you for a moment. 

For some power beyond man, you wore a really cute bra today. It wasn’t lingerie, but it made Steve drool all the same, causing him to groan at the sight. He didn’t stop there though, slowly pulling off your shorts and underwear causing him to kneel down in front of you. You sucked in a breath.

The sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you to eat you out was becoming your new favorite view. 

He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, kissing up your thigh, slowly, looking up at you the whole time. 

He was looking for any kind of hesitation but instead, all he received was a “Fuck, Steve, please.” 

Steve smirked at you before licking up your thigh and gently nipping at it, causing your head to tilt against his bedroom door. 

Steve took his time eating you out. He teased you relentlessly, eliciting every single sound from you he could possibly discover, muttering how much of a “pretty girl” you were into your “pretty little pussy”. 

His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked over so gently. Your hips shifted forward, back on the edge of an orgasm, waiting not-so-patiently for him to make you cum all over his face. 

“Come on baby girl let me taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” 

“P-Please Steve.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, one had in his hair, the other shoved against the door frame for support. 

The heat in your gut was winding up tighter and tighter, causing you to roll your hips, riding his face. Every time your body shuddered, you’d hit Steve’s nose just right against your clit, making you gasp a little bit. 

You moaned his name out, finding yourself closer and closer to the edge as he became more and more relentless fucking you with his tongue and with his words. 

He curled his tongue in the right spot, causing your body to snap. 

Not a single sound left your mouth as you cum on his tongue, back arching against the door, leg shaking as Steve held you up as you came. You felt his tongue working you through, and you could have sworn he moaned at the first taste of you.

Eventually, Steve slowly pulled away, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs. Your high was slowly coming back down and you muttered out a ‘holy fuck’, which caused Steve to nip at your thigh. Still sensitive, you let out a moan in response before yanking on Steve’s hair gently.  

He chuckled, the breath from his lips causing you to squirm a bit. What a sight you must have been: almost completely naked, covered in hickeys and marks, with a man wrapped in between your legs, up against his bedroom door. 

Steve slowly let your leg down, before kissing his way back up, enjoying every little sharp intake of breath, and every little moan that got caught in your throat. He made his way to your lips and it was dirty how much you enjoyed kissing him while he still had you all over his lips. It was obscene. 

“How ya doing pretty girl.” He muttered, arms wrapped around your waist, lips on yours. 

You were blissed out. Every time you thought about what you just experienced, your hips twitched a little bit, and all you could do was use your hands to shove Steve’s lips further into yours. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you happily obliged, opening up a bit more so he could taste all of you. 

When he pulled away so you could breathe, he went back to kissing your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about your taste for fucking months.” 

You swore you could orgasm a second time at that sentence alone. 

Steve’s fingers melted into your skin, and you were sure that there were permanent sun spots where his hand was, forever indicating where his hands should always be. 

You gently pulled on his hair once again, gaining his attention. “Steve.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb up and down on his neck. 

He nodded and reached over, opening the door to his room. 

The two of you slowly made your way to his bed, lips on lips, hands grabbing for skin, wanting more contact than what you had. 

By the time you were on the bed, your skin had become a canvas and Steve was the artist, his lips leaving little marks scattered across your skin like constellations. 

Steve pulled away for a moment, sitting back on his heels, causing you to sit up. You took over his task, slowly unbuckling his belt, looking up at him the entire time. Steve licked his lips and bit his bottom one at the sight of you. 

You slowly pulled it out of the belt loops and then threw it somewhere in the room. Your fingers made their way up his thighs before they popped open the button of his jeans. You could see the strain on the jeans from how hard Steve was, pushing against the fabric.

He groaned as you unzipped them before leaning back on your hands, watching him take them off. You could have sworn you started to drool when you saw his cock. 

His hands almost started you as he placed one beside your head, leaning down to kiss you. 

You didn’t realize that he had been wearing his silver chain this entire time, until it brushed against your collarbone when his lips connected with yours. You felt as Steve slid his knee between your legs, and his other hand cupped your cheek. 

“Steve I–” You muttered against his lips, but he cut you off by kissing you again. 

After a moment, he pulled away, hovering above you. “What gorgeous.” 

“Please.” You whispered, feeling antsy at the fact that you hadn’t felt him yet, that he was barely touching you. 

He smiled slightly. “You have somewhere to be?” He joked, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

You rolled your eyes. “What if I did.”

He kissed your collarbone. “By all means.” 

The top of your chest, above the bra. “Leave then.” 

You let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of his mouth above your chest and closed your eyes. 

“No?” He licked up your neck and nipped at the bottom of your ear. “Come on baby girl, nothing more to say.” 

“F-fuck.” 

He chuckled and slid his hand down to the front of your bra, undoing it with one hand. “Opens from the front…someone was prepping.” 

Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “N-no.” 

He shrugged and took it off of you. “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart.” 

Your nipples hardened at the cool air surrounding you both, and Steve put his hand on your waist, slowly sliding up your side until he could cup your tit in his hand, giving it a squeeze. 

You moaned at the contact but kept your eyes on the scene in front of you. It would be criminal to not watch Steve take his sweet time with you. 

He shifted again, making it so he was able to rest on top of you, and trace designs across your chest with his tongue. It flicked against one of your nipples which made your body jump up against his. 

“Sensitive?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, one of your hands making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it tightly. 

He rubbed his thumb over the other nipple, flicking it. His tongue went to work, finding out everything that made you feel good, that made you moan. Once Steve had worked you up, he switched his attention to your other tit, his lips kissing across the valley of your chest. 

He was teasing you, watching every single movement of your body and while you wanted to shove him back down to clean up his mess, you couldn’t help it. You had never seen a sight so intoxicatingly hot. His chain dragged around with him, adding to the sensation of his mouth on your skin. 

Somehow from barely moving, you felt like your body was on fire, it was too hot. You felt too good. 

“Gonna take my sweet time with you, pretty girl.” He muttered, kissing back up your collarbone. “Gonna hear every single one of those pretty sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Yeah?” 

All you could do was nod and close your eyes, trying not to orgasm right then and there. 

He tsked and squeezed your waist. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want to hear you.” 

“Yes–yes–please god yes.” Your answer poured out of you before you could even think about it. The only thing in your head was Steve Harrington. Steve’s hips, his ass, his arms, his chest, his lips, his hair, his chain, his stupid fucking smirk. 

You felt him pull away for a moment, and you opened your eyes. He had gotten up and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper somewhere. You watched as he slid it over his cock, which was already glistening with pre-cum, causing him to smirk. 

“I make you excited or something, Harrington?” 

He laughed as he made his way back over to the bed. “Something like that yeah.” 

You leaned up slightly and captured his lips on your own, enjoying the moment of just his lips on yours. 

He hummed and you felt him slowly guide himself to your entrance.  

You’d never spent the whole night fucking someone, until now, and even then, you weren’t sure what you were doing was just fucking one another. Sure it started out like that, but it evolved into something more the second Steve Harrington took your hand in his and pushed into you for the first time, whispering everything he adored about you into your ear. 

A sigh that could be categorized as relief left your mouth when he bottomed out, just letting the both of you get used to the feeling of one another. 

He kissed your jaw before slowly pulling his hips back out. 

You moaned into his ear as he started moving, your bodies moving in sync just like those cheesy books you had read told you. 

Feeling good has never come so easy to you. The way Steve Harrington was kissing you, so tender, with sure care made you want to freeze the world so you could stay here forever, with him. Your moans match up to each thrust, each inhale from when he kisses the sensitive skin right above your collarbone. 

The stars outside shined brighter for you, that’s what you would swear when telling your friends, that the universe quieted and the stars multiplied so you could see all of them as Steve made love to you, whispered how much he adored you, how he couldn’t wait to kiss you the moment he saw you at the airport. How he wanted to see what you tasted like the moment he first met you. 

It was overwhelming, only breathing in Steve, bodies picking up the pace as you simultaneously leaned over the line, ready to snap. 

You begged him, you needed him. His name falling from your lips with every single movement he made. 

His hand slid down your body and slowly started toying with your clit. “Come on pretty, let me feel you. I want to feel you. You’ve been so good for me, so fucking hot baby, let me feel you.” 

It snapped. The coil in your stomach snapped and you came, walls clenching down on him. Your mind went blank and your vision was filled with millions of stars that had floated in through the window and hung in Steve Harrington’s eyes. 

The feeling of you caused him to quickly follow you, hips thrusting into you, making you both ride one another’s orgasms. The sound of his breath, his moans, caused another wave to crash down on you. Your back arched, jaw quivering as your chest lost all of its air. The weight of his body kept you grounded but your mind was in the clouds. 

That calmness you had experienced before settled into your chest. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was no insatiable hunger, no need to go again (at the moment), nothing of the sort. Just a need to become inseparable, to become one whole again from two halves. 

And you could tell Steve felt the same from the way he kissed your cheek and lifted his head to look at you. You both felt it. The feeling as if this was right as if you were supposed to be here with one another, as if it was written in the stars, or read through some tea leaves—you were supposed to be falling in love with Steve Harrington. 

You leaned up ever so slightly, saying everything you possibly could with your lips against his, with no words being spoken. There was no need for them anyway because you just knew Steve felt the same. 

______________________________________________________________________________

You spent the next week, doing your best to split your time between your best friend, and your something new. Robin was actually doing quite well adjusting to the two of you since it felt like this had always been normal. 

The night before you and Robin were set to leave, Steve had taken you out by Lover’s Lake again, remembering how much you loved hearing about the stars. It was breathtaking. Truly the sky felt so vast and so big and you were standing underneath all of that with someone you truly cared about. 

The night didn’t end there. 

The two of you melted into one another in the backseat of Steve’s car. Skin on Skin. Stars collide in your eyes. Hands digging deeper than skin into souls. 

Yet after all of that, you were still too terrified to ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday. 

What Now? 

“I had been, uh, thinking.” 

Steve’s thumb was rubbing against your hip, bringing your focus back to him. 

“And, uh, we have to…”

You nodded. 

“Steve I–”

Steve shook his head. “Let me get through this, yeah?” He whispered, almost like he was scared to even hear his own voice. 

“I-I have been searching for a way out of Hawkins for a while now. I love my friends, but now that the kids have graduated and-and are moving away, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” 

You brushed your hand against his cheek as a sign of comfort, not saying anything. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m latching onto you because you could get me out of here. I need you to know that’s not—I have never felt more sure about anything—anyone in my entire life than I feel about you. It sounds fucking crazy to say out loud, but I swear your touch literally brings my heart rate down. Hearing your laugh is like a fucking drug and, and, I want to spend as long as I can staring into your eyes, memorizing every single centimeter of your body, watching you as you stare up at the stars. I w-want that. I want it so badly. It sounds delusional since we’ve barely spent a full week's worth of time together. But speaking it out into the universe has fucked me over so much in the past. Anytime I’d utter any true want out loud, it’d, uh, it’d disappear. But I can’t—I think I’d go batshit if I couldn’t kiss you every day. What–what I’m trying to say is that—” 

You gently placed your lips on his lips, not having the words in the English language to describe the field of flowers blooming in your chest under the sunshine that was Steve Harrington. 

Steve smiled and pulled away after a moment. 

“You were gonna launch into the sky with the way your mouth was running.” 

Steve nervously laughed and nodded, closing his eyes. 

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m into you because you could be a way out of Hawkins. I need you to know that I’m seriously falling for you and I-I couldn’t be more in awe of you every time I look at you.” 

Your eyes started to water and you shoved his chest. “Fuck Steve. That was…That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” You muttered, burying your face in his neck, to hide the fact that this man just made you so emotional using minimal words. 

The two of you sat there, enjoying the company of one another, whispering sweet everythings in each other’s ears. It was everything to you. His hands on your body, his eyes locked onto yours. The thought of having to leave the next morning had you terrified since neither of you really had any idea how you were going to make this work, but you’d be fucking damned if you weren’t going to try. Steve was worth it to you. He was worth everything. 

And suddenly, because of Steve Harrington, you started to believe that you were worth everything too. 

[cameronspecial]

At Her Beck And Call

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Assault

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Rafe may be out doing business, but he is never too busy for Y/N.

Masterlist

Everyone in the Outer Banks knows about Rafe’s explosive personality, especially towards the Pogues. The only person who is never at the wrong end of his anger is Y/N. He would never dare risk losing her by unleashing his anger on her. At the moment, she is safely at home, resting with their darling baby girl growing inside of her stomach. He is finishing up collecting the money from people who owe him from his drug dealer days. When he started dating Y/N, he stopped dealing less often; however, with a baby on the way, Rafe is ready to hang up the towel completely. Therefore, it is time for him to gather all the debts obligated to him. He finally tracks down the last person, Tanner Barrois. The Pogue is hiding out at a friend’s house but for enough money, anyone can betray their friend. Rafe bangs on the door as loud as he can and steps away from it. “What the fuck do you wan-” Tanner complains as he opens the door. Rafe gives him a wicked grin, “I want my fucking money, Asshole.” Tanner backs up into the house with his hands in the air. “I don’t have your money, but I can get it to you. I-I just need a few weeks,” he offers. Rafe shakes his head, “No, I already gave you three months. So where is my money?”

“I don’t have it!” 

Rafe grips the front of Tanner’s shirt and slams him against the wall. His arm cocks, rushing towards Tanner’s nose at a fast pace. The room is silent, except for the sounds of Rafe’s fist hitting Tanner, until “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran begins to play out of nowhere. Something vibrating accompanies the song. Rafe keeps Tanner against the wall with one hand, while his other hand goes into his pocket for his phone. He brings it to his ear with a soft smile, “Hi, Dumpling. How are you and little dumpling doing?” “I’m hungry, Rafey,” the pregnant woman whines with her hands on her perturbing stomach. He chuckles, “And what can I pick up for you on my way home, Dumpling?” “I want Trader Joe’s French Vanilla ice cream, soya sauce, pickles and mayo please,” she pleads into the phone. He grimaces, “Please, tell me you aren’t going to eat all of those together.” “I don’t know yet. I guess you’ll have to find out when you get here,” she teases, knowing he gets grossed out by her weird pregnancy cravings. He sighs, “I guess I will. I’ll get those for you once I’m finished with my business. Okay? I love you.” “Thank you. I love you too. Bye,” she hangs up without another word. 

The phone gets slipped back into his pocket and his attention returns to Tanner. “Now, where were we?” He punches Tanner again, shaking his hand out to try to rid himself of the blood. “I’m going to ask you again. Where is my money?” Rafe growls. Tanner whimpers, “I can get it to you by next week.” Tanner receives another blow to the head. “Not the answer I was looking for. So let’s try this once more,” Rafe warns, but he is again interrupted by the chime of his phone. “Is everything okay, Dumpling?” he worries into the speaker.

“It needs to be the tiny pickles. I don’t want the large ones. I don’t want the zig-zag cut ones or the straight-cut ones. I want the tiny ones. Okay?”

“Yes, I know, Dumpling. I promise they will be the tiniest ones I can find.” 

“Good, thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dumpling. Goodbye.”

Tanner’s face is in a bloody smirk. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” Rafe questions, digging his forearm into the Pogue's neck. Tanner gasps out, “You are so whipped for her.” Rafe’s eyebrows cave in and he strikes Tanner’s stomach. “Be careful what you say next, Motherfucker,” Rafe alerts. Tanner appears to have a death wish as he says the next sentence, “That bitch has your balls in a death grip and it’s pathetic.” His phone rings once more before he can reply. “Dumpling, you are really making me concerned about you,” he sighs into the phone. She pouts, “I’m sorry. I just wanted something to drink too.” “It’s okay, Dumpling. I want you to stay hydrated. So what can I get you?” he inquires. “Iced tea, please. And I promise this will be the last time I’m going to call. I’m going to take a nap while I wait for you to come home.”

“Iced tea, coming right up. Enjoy your nap, Dumpling. I’ll see you when I get home. I love you.”

“I love you so much, Rafey. Thank you. I can’t wait for you to come home. Muah.”

The line goes dead and he can’t help but put his phone away with a massive grin on his face. He weakens his hold on Tanner, “You better be thanking the lord that I am whipped for my girl because it is the only reason I am giving you another day to get the money. Don’t try to run because I will find you and your punishment will be so much worse than you can imagine. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go to Trader’s Joe.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[doomedmoth]

Not fast, just furious

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings : use of y/n, smau, unhinged behavior, alcohol and cigarettes consumption, kys joke, suggestive texts, chaotic fluff, grumpy x sunshine, lando getting bullied

Synopsis : During his winter break in Australia, Daniel meets a barmaid with a big heart and a bigger mouth. When she starts following him during the races, fans are a bit unsure of how to deal with her unhinged behavior and total lack of media training. Daniel loves it.

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi friends ! Pls be kind, it’s my first attempt at a smau and I’m on mobile, so the formatting might be weird. Also sorry if your name is Malva, it was the first one that came to mind lol.

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername Walking in the club like we regulars

Liked by yourbff, melbournemirage and others

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yourbff leaving the club like an overworked mom

Liked by yourusername

melbournemirage our favorite employee 🤩

Liked by yourusername

yourusername wouldn’t mind a raise then 🤪

user1 gorggggg

yourbrother stop drinking on the job bitch

yourusername get a job before judging me bitch

*****

[Twitter] f1.driv.updates just posted

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story

*****

[Messages] Daniel has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] wagupdates just posted a photo

wagupdates New wag alert ?? Daniel Ricciardo has now been seen a few times with an unknown woman around Melbourne and Perth during his winter break. At first thought to be a childhood friend, sources say they met at the bar where the young woman is working, and they have been getting quite cozy 👀 What do you think ??? 📸 via Australian celebrity press

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danyfanclub she looks cuuuute

user1 anyone got her @ ???

user2 apparently he been hanging out at melbournemirage so maybe she works there ???

malva she looks messsyyyy, doubt it’s gonna last till the season starts…

danyfanclub stay mad

*****

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo

daniel3.jpg Aussie adventures before going back to vroom vroom

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maxverstappen1 honey come home the kids miss you

Liked by daniel3.jpg

user1 what camera do you use ???

wagupdates do we spy the new girl on the 4th and 7th slide ??? 👀

user2 THANK YOU I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE

user3 sneakyyy

danyfanclub can’t wait to see her in the paddock ‼️

landojpg we missed you at karting mate 🥺

daniel3.jpg sorry, too busy drinking cocktails 🤪

*****

[Messages] Your coworker has sent you a text in Charlie’s Angels

*****

[Instagram] melbournemirage just posted a photo

melbournemirage Today we mourn the loss of our best bartender, yourusername . She had been with us for a little over a year now, and was the light of Melbourne Mirage, our pride and joy. She always won employee of the month, and not just because she created and awarded the title herself. A gathering in her memory will be held tonight at 9pm, everyone who knew and loved her is free to attend 💔

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yourbff LMAOOOOO

yourusername WHY THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE I’M DEAD I JUST QUITTED ???

melbournemirage sometimes we can still hear her voice… 💔

daniel3.jpg don’t worry I’ll take good care of her 😇

yourcoworker you better 🔪

user4 DANIEL ???

danyfanclub finally we have the @ !!!

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername last month stuff

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yourbff damn girl, money suits you well 😍

yourusername right ???

malva wow, gold digger much…

danielricciardo thank you for getting Max to fly us around babe 🥰

maxverstappen1 as if I was not offering after every race…

landonorris why don’t you offer me after every race ???

maxverstappen1 you can walk

landonorris TO SILVERSTONE ???

user1 from barmaid to wag, girl is living the dream life

user2 smoking is not cool girl…

yourusername minding your own fckn business is tho

*****

[Twitter] paddockwags just posted

[Twitter] yourusername just posted

*****

[Messages] my sun 🌞 has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo

daniel3.jpg Sorry my cat bites, I found her in the streets. She’s a good girl irl.

Liked by yourusername, carmenmmundt and others

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yourusername don’t reveal my secrets 🙄 (love you)

daniel3.jpg the world has to know ❤️‍🔥 (love you more)

lilymhe I can confirm the good girl part

yourusername I’ll be the best for you 🥵

alex_albon HM EXCUSE ME ???

danyfanclub ppl love to hate on her because she’s not trained like a nepo baby but honestly relatable queen !!

user1 boy is simping so hard

user2 she looks so fun to be around, finally a wag that doesn’t look fake

malva yeah she definitely got the street cat look…

user3 OMG GET A FUCKING LIFE GIRL

danyfanclub being this salty won’t make him like you go get a grip

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user1 replied to your story :

Did you and Daniel break up ???

malva replied to your story :

fucking finally, so looooong

danielricciardo replied to your story :

have fuuuun, I’ll call you when my plane lands 🐶

******

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername Back where everything started. I know I sound like a bitch sometimes, but to my love, my sun, my pup, I am so glad I met you 6 months ago. You turned my life around and I can’t wait for more shenanigans with you. You make any place feel like home. I love you. To everyone else, especially those who thought we broke up because I had the audacity to go home two days before him : Fuck you all ❤️

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melbournemirage we were so happy to have you back, even for just a night ! Soon a #speeddating night at the Melbourne Mirage everyone ? 👀

Liked by yourusername

yourusername stop promoting yourself on my account

maxverstappen1 glad to have met you this year bro

yourusername #mates4life

user1 I didn’t know they were so close !!

danielricciardo my love ❤️‍🔥

yourusername my sun 🌞

user2 highway looking pretty good for a nap rn

user3 goooosh they are so cute I’m gonna kms

danyfanclub FROM THE MAIN ACCOUNT TOO ‼️

malva still not buying it

This user has been blocked

yourbrother you did not have to come back so soon

yourusername jeez 🤡 at least pretend to be happy for the gifts you little shit

yourbrother thx I guess

yourusername you’re adopted

landonorris can you bring me back some Tim Tam ? 🥺

danielricciardo no ❤️

yourbff no ❤️

yourusername no and kys ❤️

landonorris damn 🥺

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift- Introduction

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Beautiful Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Sumarry: The RDA are forced to negotiate with a certain Olo'eyktan. Luckily, there is only one thing he wants.

Warnings: dark, dubcon/noncon, suggestive, kidnapping, aged up Neteyam, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, humiliation, dark Neteyam, swearing, power imbalance, etc. (not exhaustive) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: I had this idea in the middle of the night two days ago. This will be the introduction of the mini series. It is dark content so read at your own risk.

tiyawn: love

mawey: be calm

oeyӓ: my (possessive)

Masterlist

The rope is coarse against your wrist and ankles, tied tight enough to leave squirming out of the question. However, it's the thick fabric gag that has you grinding your teeth together in discomfort. They leave you no opportunity to ask questions. No way to understand your fate before it unfolds. 

Colonel Quaritch had been even more cold and distant as you were prepared for the mysterious treck. You had been in the middle of packing your stuff, preparing to return home with the rest of the RDA when you had been dragged away and dressed against your will. 

Now kneeling here in the middle of Pandora’s forest wearing little more than sparkly scraps, you have never felt more exposed. The intricately beaded top does little to nothing to cover your hardening nipples and it’s easy to catch some of the Colonel’s brats sneaking a glance occasionally. 

“Colonel,” Lyle calls to your left. “For a final touch.” He holds a large pink ribbon in one hand, eyes snapping over to your small form with a smirk. 

“Be quick.” Quaritch grumbles but he doesn’t hide the amusement painted across his face. 

You attempt to scoot away when Lyle approaches you but he wrangles you back into place one handed. Another recom keeps you still with hands on your shoulders and before you know it Lyle is using the ribbon to tie a big bow directly over your breasts.

You muster every hateful thought into your heated glare, not that it does much to kill his mood. 

It’s obvious that you are the one left out of the joke everyone seems to revel in. Several times you wonder if all of this is some sick prank. Dressing you up only to drag you into the middle of the woods and leave you for dead. Perhaps even kill you themselves. 

However, thirty minutes of kneeling in the mud with a small army on high alert around you proves plans to be otherwise. There is something ominous about that pink bow tied around you, something even more suspicious about the traditional Na’vi clothing that has somehow been made to fit you perfectly. 

“That bastard sure likes to take his sweet time.” Mansk huffs. 

“What more did you expect from one of Sully’s filthy half breeds?” Quaritch sneers, readjusting the heavy artillery into his shoulder. 

“Makes a lot of demands too. Swear if we didn’t need these resources-” Lyle starts but is cut off.

“And yet we do. So shut your trap and pay attention.” The Colonel snips at him. It’s almost comical to see how fast Lyle straightens and goes back to scanning the terrain for movement. 

Always the Colonel’s bitch. 

You wish this ridiculous gag wouldn’t stop you from finally speaking your opinion freely. If you are about to meet your demise, the least they could let you do is get some long awaited satisfaction. 

Tension bleeds into the atmosphere. The former marines snap to attention and guns are locked into place, the formation fanning them out to combat any potential threats. 

It takes several dreadful seconds for you to see them but finally a pair of golden eyes just barely shines through the thick forest. They are in the trees, crouched to the ground, in bushes, some even swooping overhead on banshees. 

You marvel at their ability to hide in the nooks and crannies of the forest. However, even now you recognize that they are choosing to be seen. They have decided to make their presence known. 

Your heart thunders.

Tied and kneeling between the two juxtaposing crowds feels like being offered up as a human sacrifice. 

Do the Na’vi believe in live sacrifice?

Perhaps they too put up dead to their deity as a sign of loyalty. 

And you are pampered and primed for the taking. 

“Signed, sealed and delivered as promised.” The Colonel grunts, boot clad toe nudging your vulnerable form. 

Dread slinks through your veins.

What have you done to deserve this?

The Na’vi that steps out into the open is one that you can recognize instantly. Even a human of low status among the RDA knows what Jake Sully’s eldest son, and now Omatikaya Olo’eyktan, looks like. His face has become a focused target that the RDA have been working to exterminate for months. Now, it feels all for naught as they have been brought to their knees and forced to leave Pandora with little resources. The same reason you prepare yourself to say goodbye to this mysterious planet for good.

However, that was the idea before you were prepared like a trussed up main course for the taking. 

You struggle fruitlessly in the binds once more and Neteyam’s eyes center on you. Peering up at him hurts your neck as you are once again reminded of how tall and muscular the Na’vi are. His shoulders give the illusion of spanning out even further with the traditional feathered mantle he wears. 

His head slants to the side before he is prowling closer. You attempt to jerk away from his large hand coming to your face but that only ends in you falling back on your rear. His lips turn down as he inspects your tied wrists. There is nothing you can do as he holds both of them easily with one hand. 

“I was told she would not be harmed.” He speaks lowly, voice thick with a Na’vi accent. 

“She put up quite a fight. Even getting her to hold still during the shot was a pain in the ass.” Quaritch replies.

You remember all too well the fear that had overcome you when they brought out that long needle. The developed serum was a success naturally but it still racks your anxiety higher to fully breathe Pandoran air without your mask. Even more so, you feel strangely more exposed in front of this Na’vi legend without the glass to separate you from him. 

“I don’t appreciate excuses.” His golden eyes flicker towards your face and a small smile appears. “But I am pleased to see it fits.” Long fingers trace the lines of your necklace top before toying with the ends of the pink boy. 

You stiffen beneath his touch, eyeing the sheathed dagger across his chest. 

Do sacrificial ceremonies require specific clothing? 

Maybe dressing a sacrifice up in pretty ornaments and clothing proves to their deity its value. 

Either way, you hope it’s fast. The Na’vi are trained killers, but at least they should know how to end a life swiftly. 

“I would be pleased to see the resources you promised.” The Colonel bites back.

Neteyam sighs and purses her lips as if the small army around them is simply an annoyance instead of a threat. 

“Trades are not historically present between the Omatikaya and your people. I am not opposed to taking instead. Remember that.” 

You can hear the shifting guns behind you. The Colonel’s anger boils through the air and you are surprised to find no smart response coming from him. Neteyam leisurely tugs the ends of the bow, perfecting its shape and you are mortified to feel your nipples tighten beneath them. He nods his head and a few armed Na’vi step forward and hesitantly hand over a few tubes of minerals.

You recognize it as unobtanium, most likely the small amount left to mine from the last Home Tree. Your eyes widen. All of that for you? 

It wouldn’t be enough to make the RDA’s trip a success but it would surely cut down the financial loss significantly. But why give it over? Just to kill you? Had their deity sent out a bounty on your head and if so, what had you done to piss Her off so immensely?

“As promised.” Neteyam rises back to full height, hands settling on his hips. “I trust you understand what is to come to those who do not honor this agreement.” 

“Consider her a…peace offering. A special gift from the RDA.” You can hear the smirk in Quaritch’s tone, even the chuckle that Loyd fights to hold back. Your teeth dig into the fabric gag, praying more than ever that now would be the one time you would be able to rip him a new one. 

Your own special gift before you leave this life. 

“I tire of your presence, demon.” 

Quaritch scoffs but you can already hear the shuffling of retreating boots as they slowly but surely exit the scene. The only home you have ever known and now it is nothing more than a memory. You’re left to the demise of the Na’vi like a shiny object to be collected. 

And with the way Neteyam smiles and studies your form intently, you can’t have found a better analogy. Kneeling once more, large hands cup your cheeks, fingers encasing the whole side of your head. 

“Oeyӓ tiyawn, you are shaking.” He tuts, features softening at breakneck speed. Eyebrows furrowing, you watch closely as he carefully parts the hair from your face. “So nice to meet you, properly that is.” He chuckles, as if telling a joke only he knows the context to. 

Unease tightens your muscles and you’re sure that if your heart rate picks up anymore the organ will simply give out before they even have a chance to kill you. 

He sends a look to the side and instantly the rest of the Na’vi party retreat back into the forest. Your forehead creases. What is a sacrifice without an audience? 

Unless. 

Neteyam’s fingers comb through your hair.

Unless the Olo’eyktan has decided to have his fun with you before you are offered up. 

Tears spill from your eyes and you can’t stop yourself from trying to beg through the gag.

“Oh tiyawn,” His thumbs wipe away your tears. “You do not need to cry anymore. Not now that you are mine.” 

A hiccup catches in your throat, wide eyes looking up at him. 

“My sweet pet.” He husks, lips curved into a prideful smile. 

Your heart drops to your stomach.

Pet. 

How does he even know what that word means? The Na’vi do not keep pets. Perhaps he misspoke. 

But when one large hand circles around the back of your neck and you remember one thing: this man was raised by both Na’vi and Sky People. 

Frantically shaking your head in protest you try to get out words that will convince him to release you. It’s a strained effort with the cloth gag and his giant hand grasping your neck. 

“Mawey, little gift, before you hurt yourself.” He lingers over the cloth gag and for a moment you have hope that he will remove it, instead Neteyam gives you a sympathetic smile. “My poor tiyawn, I would love to remove it but I think we will need to go over some ground rules first. I’ll need you to listen without distraction for that part.” 

Your thoughts tangle into a million knots as vast ideas of what these rules may entail generate frantically. 

It would be easier to believe that a Na’vi has no purpose for a Sky Person as a pet but it’s impossible to miss the lust swimming in his golden orbs. Nor the wandering hands that now come to squeeze your plush hips. 

“You’re even more breathtaking up close.” He grins. When had he seen you from a distance? “Especially in proper clothing.” 

You can barely see through the cloud of tears over your eyes so you miss when Neteyam unsheathes his knife. That is, until you feel the cold material against your ankles. Terror grips your heart but to your surprise the Olo’eyktan cuts the rope around your feet. 

Foolishly you take advantage of this slight freedom only to be snatched around the waist and pulled onto his lap. Neteyam chuckles as if your escape attempt is the cutest thing he has ever seen. Your hips ache slightly at the stretch it takes to straddle one of his muscular thighs. 

“Misbehaving already, hm?” He raises a hairless eyebrow at you, one hand slink down to settle over your rear. Luckily he seems more amused than angry. After all, you have to admit that there was no real chance of you outrunning him in the first place. And now that those muscular arms are locked around you, there is no hope of beating his strength. 

Humiliation runs deep when you feel the first trickle of arousal stain your tiny loincloth. Neteyam’s thigh flexes and your pussy greedily takes the friction as an invitation. His nostrils flare, no doubt taking in your changing scent. 

He doesn’t further your embarrassment, however. At least not yet. 

“My father told me about these.” He muses, fingers playing with the bow once more. “It’s said to represent gifts. I always thought they were silly but now…” Heat runs straight to your core when his thumb dances over one escaped nipple. “I quite like the look of it on you, little gift.” 

A whimper escapes your lips without permission, snagging his attention. 

“Needy little pet, aren’t you?” A dark laugh rumbles his chest as his thumb casually slips underneath to bow to torment one nipple. “Do not worry, oeyӓ tiyawn. I’ll have you seeing stars before the night is through.” 

Everything in your mind says no but Neteyam’s skin is warm and his hands are skilled as one teases your nipples while the other explores your backside. Your body preens into the touch, desperate for some semblance of comfort to hold onto. And in the dangerous atmosphere of Pandoran nights, your instincts tell you that this man is what separates you from death. 

However, you are still held as prey under his gaze. 

“But first I think it is time to get you home.” He leans forwards until your noses are touching. 

“You will be more comfortable in my bed, pet.” 

And so it begins! As always, I would LOVE to hear your thoughts! <3

unofficial taglist: @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 (thought you might like it, baby) @itchaboi-itchyboy @zafrinaxyz @lilghostiequinni @criticallybella

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the official taglist for future parts

[razorblade180]

Streamer AU 6

Number 5 <-

Weiss:*rolls into view*….I’ve returned.

Yang:The bitch is back.

Weiss:Wow! Okay, rude. It’s not like I really left. I was in your streams all the time. I just don’t feel like doing my own after missions.

Yang:And yet somehow you still have more subscribers than me.

Photo Bunny gifted 30 subs

Weiss:Oh my gods! Velvet, thank you so much!

Yang:And the rich get richer!!!

Weiss:She says, knowing I’m not rich anymore.

Yang:And yet the money still pours in. Chat, make her play a horror game for being gone for so long.

“Yes!”

“PLEASE!”

“Alien Isolation.”

Weiss:Absolutely not. We have plans already. I’m just waiting for my co-host.

Yang:What am I then?

Weiss:A person who saw me hit the “live” button and immediately hopped into call to call me a bitch.

Yang:It’s in all in good love.

The Reaper: “Ayo! Look who’s back!”

Yang:Ruby, call Weiss a bitch.

Weiss:I’ll un-mod you. I’ve learned to do that recently.

Ruby: *enters call* Oh gods, chat, she’s learning computers. Tech savvy Weiss is dangerous. Who taught her such power?

Weiss:Your girlfriend.

Ruby:Oh, sorry chat. My girl can do no wrong.

Protector of Friendship: “💚”

Ruby:What’s the gameplan today? “Just chatting?” We can play Uno again.

Weiss:You hate teamwork. I swear you do.

Yang:Sends us on a life threatening mission where trust is needed, just to ruin it a day later.

Thunder Thighs: “How was mission? Everyone okay?”

Weiss:It was just bandits. Lots and lots of them. Unfortunately they ruined a village so most of the expenses went to rebuilding the town.

Yang:Chat, this woman is only on camera right now because her power bill is scaring her. This cute face has a price tag.

Weiss:Hey! I actually missed gaming. It’s oddly relaxing when I don’t listen to Ruby’s suggestions. Or Blake’s.

Ninja of Love: “League actually isn’t that bad.”

Ruby:That’s what I’m saaaaaying!

Yang:Don’t listen to them. They’re ill and can’t be cured.

Weiss:*looks at scroll*…Oh, I’ll be right back. Yang, you’re in charge. *gets up*

Ruby:Why not me?

Weiss:Because Yang doesn’t play League!

Ruby:You two lack vision. The four of us could be our own team! We could grab a few more friends and train for tournaments.

Ren: *enters call* Ruby, you are way too toxic for that. *leaves call*

Yang:Hahahahaha!

Ruby:You can’t just show up to say that!?

Weiss walks back into view rolling a second chair next to her. She’s then handed a coffee cup she gladly sips as she sits back down, all nice and cozy. Sitting next to her is Jaune, chilling in her merch hoodie as he waves.

Jaune:Hello…

“Whaaaat?”

“Oh it’s the guy.”

“Hi Jaaaaaaune!”

“Nerd alert”

“Co-host?”

Yang:I can’t believe you chose the other blonde over me. How cruel. What does he have I don’t?

Jaune:*holds up Kingdom Hearts*

Ninjas of Love: “FINALLY!”

Yang:..I would’ve bought it.

Ruby:Alright, maybe you chose better than Uno.

Weiss:Okay everyone, you can guess tonight’s game. It’s not like it hasn’t won several polls.

Ruby:Oh! Oh! Weiss, sub goal idea! 80 subs and you have to do a cover of the opening!

Weiss:I haven’t even heard it yet!

Jaune:You might like it more than the song from FFX.

Weiss:….

Yang:She’s setting you up for success.

Weiss:…We will circle back to that. Speaking of FFX, same rules apply. I don’t need back-seating from chat. My wonderful co-host here will help manage the stream and aid me with anything I ask.

Blake: *enters call* Jaune, what version is that?

Jaune:It’s from the 1.5 collection, so final mix. Post the patch.

Blake:You’re a good man.

Weiss:Do you want the camera on you or is that uncomfortable?

Jaune:I’m okay. This setup is nice.

Ruby:Questions like these wouldn’t be an issue if you got a VTube model. Penny could hook you up.

Weiss:I only recently learned how to fix normal PC problems. Don’t put that burden on me.

Yang:What does OBS stand for?

Weiss:I saved your life yesterday. What’s your damage with me?

Big Bags & Miniguns: “Is this the mystery boyfriend we’ve been searching for?”

Weiss:Cocoa, you’ve known Jaune forever. He’s always been around as a mod.

Thunder Thighs: “That wasn’t a no.”

Jaune:I literally showed my copy of the game. You all know why I’m here.

Cardinal Pride: “As if she’d date someone as lame as-

Message Deleted

Photo Bunny: “Please remember the chat guidelines before typing”

Ruby:I would’ve blocked him.

Weiss:He gets one more chance. I’m in a good mood.

Jaune:That’s the Kingdom Hearts spirit. *puts disc in*

Weiss:This won’t make me cry like Final Fantasy did, will it?

Blake:Oh….sweetie….

Weiss:*inhales* Great.

Yang:I already made a crude layout for the singing goal. I swear graphic designers should be thankful I like cars and fighting Grimm more.

Jaune:Don’t have any lower goals?

Weiss:I’m 20 away from having to cosplay a character from a game I’ve played. They also get to vote on an emote.

BB&MG: “How many subs for a boyfriend reveal?”

Weiss:…*rubs chin*

Ruby:You’re thinking about it!?

Weiss:I mean I’d have to talk it over with him to see if he’s comfortable with others knowing, but also that goal has to be high enough for Cocoa to be scared.

Jaune:….This game isn’t terribly long, and you have new followers. Personally I’d shoot for no less than 300.

The Monkey King: “Bleed her dry. 350”

BB&MG: “I thought we were friends Sun?”

Weiss:350 it is! After I discuss it of course.

“You’re on!”

“You underestimate our power!”

“I swear if it’s Neptune.”

“Just wait until payday!”

Yang:Like I said, the rich get richer.

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

“Digging Your Own Grave” - Dean x Reader

“Digging Your Own Grave” - Dean x Reader

Rating Teen

Dean x Reader

Tags: Humor, Grumpy Dean, Adult Language, Fluff, Kissing, Reader Insert for “Optimism” Episode 14.6

Word Count: 1,000

Dean’s ego is wounded because of Jack calling him an old man. You aren’t doing anything to help Dean feel better.

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my dialogue, "Did you just kiss me to shut me up?" “Nooo?” square.

Big thanks to @zepskies for the chat and prompt that helped me rattle this little drabble out.

You’d scoped out the library for Dean and Jack a couple hours ago. Harper Sayles had a smile that took up half her face in greeting. You filled out an application for a library card with your fake Nebraska license in order to get some intel on this bad luck charm of a librarian. 

Now, you’re waiting in Dick’s Red Rooster Diner while Jack swoops into the library to “save” Harper from the big bad FBI man that is Dean Winchester. To pass the time, you sip on a raspberry iced tea and relish a cinnamon roll while flipping through a spicy Nora Robert’s novel you also checked out. You’ll pop it into the drop slot tonight. You don’t need the specter of an overdue library book haunting your 2 am thoughts for years to come.

With the book fanned out in front of your face, you don’t notice Dean sat across from you until he clears his throat.

He looks miserable.

Totally fuckable but miserable.

“What happened? You peek out the picture window. “Where’s Jack?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Playing hero like we planned.” He grabs the cinnamon roll off your plate and stuffs half of it into his mouth and chews in deliberate, deep-in-thought, slow motion.

You frown at the sad state of affairs that is your significant other and also at the loss of your treat. “That’s good. He wanted to help on a case and he’s doing his bit.” You wait a beat. “Right?”

Dean swallows, then washes it down with some of your iced tea. “He called me an old man.”

Your hand holding the book flops to the tabletop with a thud that rattles the silverware.

You stare at him while he stares back at you with those apple green eyes.

He waits with those crow’s feet you love to trace with the tip of your finger when he sleeps. With etchings of furrowed forehead from years of contemplation and worry. With those perfect lips that aren’t quite as pouty as they used to be. With that one gray hair poking out atop his head of spiked strands.

“What’s funny about that?” Dean asks in irritation.

You realize too late that you’ve been grinning.

“Dean, he was probably just acting… you know, pointing out the obvious age…” You clamp your lips shut.

Dean’s eyes widen and he straightens in the chair.

“I mean, it’s Jack. He’s still learning the nuances of language.” You try and salvage what you can.

His brows quirk up. “He’s not the only one.”

You’re about to fire something back when Dean’s attention shoots to the window. You follow his lead. Jack and Harper are on the sidewalk outside the library. There’s another man talking to them before they part ways.

“Son of a bitch did it,” Dean mutters. “I’ll follow them.” He stands. “You,” he points at the linoleum by your feet, “Stay here.”

“Dean…”

“I don’t need a walker or a chaperone. And I don’t want to have to worry about you getting in trouble. If I need you, I’ll press my Life Alert button.”

“Be careful.”

He nods and manages a sort of smile.

~~~

You have stayed quiet since Dean called you to drive Baby to the back alley behind the library. Vance’s body was stuffed in the trunk by Dean, even though Jack offered to help. Vance’s body was pulled out of the trunk by Dean, even though Jack offered to help, and carried to the open grave by Dean.

Dean tossed Jack a proverbial bone with the shovel when Vance was safe and sound, coffin lid creaking shut. “Dig.”

Jack was downright giddy to shovel piles of graveyard dirt over what would now be Vance’s, hopefully, final resting place. The stake through the heart should ensure Harper’s zombie boyfriend stays good and buried.

You haven’t lifted a finger in the cemetery. Mainly because Dean hasn’t let you. You’ve kept careful watch over Jack and Dean and surveyed the surrounding pitch black for any danger. Harper Sayles sailed away and you don’t want any happy returns.

You should feel more at ease with Dean joining you by Baby’s trunk. But you can sense he’s still prickly. He’s breathing deeply in and out through his nose. He’s trying to hide the exhaustion and exertion of the entire ordeal. 

He stands next to you, shoulder to shoulder. He’s got your six, staring behind you as you survey Jack’s shoveling form in front of you in the lantern light. He’s chucking and tossing dirt in hyperdrive mode.

“Jack,” you whisper yell and his head whips in your direction, his bangs following a second later. “Bend at the knees.”

He nods and smiles, offering a thumbs up before taking your suggestion and getting back to work.

“Kid doesn’t need to worry about his joints. He’s not an old man.” Dean’s comment drips with sarcasm.

“Never too early to learn proper form.” You counter and look up to side-eye Dean. He stares down at you briefly, his mouth quirks up in a grin that lightens your heart.

It’s quiet except for crickets and the cyclical sounds of Jack’s shovel slicing into soft earth and the subsequent spatter atop the coffin lid.

You muster the courage to speak. “Dean, you’re not old. I mean if you’re old, then that means I’m old. And I am in no way, shape or form ready to admit that.”

Dean hums to let you know he’s listening.

“If anything you’re just older, you know. A seasoned hunter. Someone that Jack looks up to. Wants to emulate. Because of how much you know. How much good you’ve done. And, besides, you know what they say. With age comes…”

Your words are cut off by Dean’s lips, pressing with force against your open mouth. You moan at how warm he feels even with the chill in the air. He breaks off sooner than you’d like. He’s smiling, guarding your back at your side.

You feel your brows scrunch together. “Did you just kiss me to shut me up?”

He tilts his head, not looking at you, only offering his achingly beautiful profile. “Nooo?”

You chuckle. “Way to sound convincing. Then why?”

He shrugs. “You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how.” He lifts a brow and glances at you. “And that, my dear, only comes from experience.”

[castiwls]

Chicken noodle soup .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; flu season is a bitch. Luckily you have two boys who seem pretty keen on helping you.

Notes; I may start a tag list for this if I get enough interest? hm

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

Flu season.

Last year you’d been lucky, Noah had managed to breeze through unharmed and in turn, so had you. Now though you wished you’d enjoyed those times more than you had. Lying on your couch watching whatever rerun was on you really debated never sending Noah back to school again. 

It had started with a small sniffle a few days after your son had come home from his father's looking like he was knocking on death's door. You knew the moment your ex had called because if there was one thing you knew about him; he never called you.

Less than half an hour later he’d showed up claiming he had to take an emergency shift before all but running down the driveway. Luckily Noah didn’t seem to mind, he’d been determined to stay stuck to your side at all hours of the day and before you knew it your son wasn’t the only one living on chicken noodle soup.

Luckily kids bounce back fast and within four days Noah was rearing and ready to go while you tried to push through the throbbing in your skull. 

Your plan clearly hadn’t worked as for the last 3 days your son's best friend's parents had taken over school runs. Grabbing another tissue you blew your nose for what felt like the hundredth time before groaning and letting your eyes flutter shut.

You had an hour and a half before Noah would be back from tennis - that was long enough for a power nap.

Maybe you'd finally be able to sleep this damn cold off.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Shh. Quiet remember.” One voice whispered before a quiet giggle could be heard. Swallowing you grimaced slightly at the pain and the reminder that you were in fact still sick - much to your distaste. You opened your eyes just enough to see Noah appear in the doorway, and your head throbbed at the light from the window.

“Hi!” He smiled, his voice quieter than normal as he came over.

His little arms wrapped around your neck, his curls brushing your ear as he hugged you. “Hey, Sweetheart.” You murmured, your voice raspy. He hummed trying to climb up onto the couch but a quiet voice halted his movements. 

“I don’t think your Mom’s gonna wanna cuddle right now.” Noah pouted but relented much to your secret relief. He hovered by you for a moment before turning to the other person. Noah shifted. “Do we have to tell her dad didn’t come?”

It took you a moment to register your son’s words through the haze of sickness which seemed to smother your whole body. 

"Dad didn’t come."

Suddenly your eyes shot open and for the first time in the last few days, you felt alert. His dad didn’t come? Who the hell brought him-

Oh.

Ignoring the pounding in your head you turned just enough to look at the figure in the doorway. Patrick smiled sheepishly raising a hand in greeting. “I didn’t wanna call in case you tried to come yourself.” He mumbled stepping closer as you shifted to sit up, the blanket pooling over your lap.

The world spun for a moment as you took a breath. Noah climbed up next to you, keeping a slight distance as he ran a hand over the soft blanket. “Your dad didn’t come?” you asked quietly.

Your son nodded, a look of hurt on his face which made your heart ache. “I waited an hour.” Patrick cut in, crossing his arms as annoyance flashed across his face for a moment. What kind of guy left his kid knowing his Mom was sick?

“He never picked up when I called either, straight to voicemail.” 

You sighed rubbing a hand over your face. You didn’t have the energy for this. You knew your ex was an ass but this, this was a new low.

The minute you could talk without it feeling like you were being stabbed in the throat he was dead. He could be a dick to you all he wanted but your son? That was a completely different ballpark.

“Go get changed.” You said reaching over to smooth down the boy's hair for a moment. “You can get a snack as well.” You knew he was upset yet the mention of an extra snack of his choosing seemed to perk him up as he ran off.

Patrick watched you for a moment, taking in your pale skin and dark circles. “Jesus.” He mumbled. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled slightly. Even sick you still somehow managed to give him the same dry tone.

“Thank you for this.” Patrick blinked, shocked slightly at the sincerity in your tone. “I…I don’t even wanna think what would have happened if you didn’t stay.” 

“It's fine.” He waved his hand. “Kid's technically my responsibility till his parents come. Just doing my job.” He shrugged.

Looking around he noted the multiple tissues, medicine, and cups scattered by the couch.  It was clear that you'd barely moved and for a moment he wondered how the hell you were taking care of a child while looking like you'd been knocking on death's door.

Sighing he reached down grabbing a few of the cups. “What are you doing?”

He paused looking up to see you watching him with a small frown. “Cleaning up.” He answered simply before grabbing more. He quite impressively managed to get almost all of the cups and tissues before standing.

You watched quietly. A part of you was surprised, your son's tennis coach was cleaning up your mess. He’d just stayed back at practice to bring him home when you both know he didn’t have to do that.

It sent a small pang of warmth through your heart that he'd stayed. H

As much as he annoyed you, you couldn’t lie that he was a decent guy (sometimes). Most of the time he still made you want to rip your hair out.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Patrick smiled slightly at the way Noah seemed to immediately gravitate towards you. He burrowed into your side, slipping under the blanket draped over your lap. He watched for a moment as your eyes fluttered again your body slumping slightly as you tried to fight off the sleep your body was so badly needing.

The feeling of a cool palm against your forehead made you jump, your eyes shooting open just to come face to face with a pair of concerned green eyes.

Patrick's face was set into a frown, your skin was practically radiating heat as he held his palm there. 

A deep sigh left you as you subconsciously lent into the cool feeling of his palm. If he ever brought this up again you would vehemently deny any of this but in the moment you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You’d been trying to parent and nurse yourself back to health and you were simply exhausted.

“You're burning up." He murmured placing a hand on the arm of the couch to steady himself as he crouched down. Noah watched shifting to lean over your lap. A small frown pulled at his lips. “You'll be okay?” Patrick was quick to nod, soothing the boy's worries. 

“Just a cold bud.” He smiled gently easing him back off you slightly. “A cold I think you gave to her.” He teased. You huffed nodding in agreement. Noah pouted sitting back before a smile pulled at his lips as you poked his side.

“S’your fault.”

He shook his head. “Noooo.” He grinned taking a bite of the chocolate he'd taken as a snack. You hummed sharing a look with Patrick who just grinned back at you. “I don’t know.” He hummed. “I seem to remember someone missing practice last week.” He raised an eyebrow as Noah gasped, yelping when Patrick reached over to ruffle his hair.

The boy broke into a fit of laughter as he tried to shove the man away but he was quickly overpowered and scrambled to the other end of the couch. His eyes were bright as he breathed heavily, a bright smile on his face as Patrick raised an eyebrow, his own smile growing.

He finished off his snack before turning to you. “Can I go play before dinner?”

Nodding you mumbled a small “sure.” A slight pang of dread ran through you at the idea of moving. Taking a breath you prepared to face the dizziness again but before you could a hand pressed over your shoulder.

“Sleep. I got it.” 

“Patrick…you don’t have to.” 

He shook his head. “It’s fine. You have chicken nuggets, right? Kids eat chicken nuggets?” He paused looking to the kitchen with his eyebrows drawn. His cooking abilities were...limited to say the least.

A quiet laugh left you. “Yes, I have chicken nuggets. Third draw in the freezer.”

He nodded watching as you lay back down. “Just rest okay? I’ll handle Noah.” He didn’t expect a reply as you relaxed back into the couch, your breathing evening out as you fell back to sleep.

Standing from his crouched position he groaned, stretching his arms. Grabbing the remote he flicked the tv off before placing it down quietly. 

If only you were this agreeable all the time.

He chuckled quietly to himself, who was he kidding he loved your seeming distaste for him. It made it all that more rewarding that you hadn’t fought him on this.

He knew he was wearing you down. He didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon either. Sure you may think he’d gotten what he wanted.

You’d slept with him a month ago and yet he still found himself wanting to spend time with you and with Noah.

Throwing a look over his shoulder he saw that Noah was nowhere to be seen. Leaning down he moved the blanket up, tucking it around your shoulders before brushing a hand over your forehead.

If you wouldn’t stop to take care of yourself someone had to do it for you.

He didn’t mind being that person.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4

part 5

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.

---

It’s the first morning I truly wake up happy after a long time. I feel ready for a new beginning when I wake up embraced by Carlos’s body. It’s perfect to share the little things with him, his presence filling me with joy.

I watch him through the door; he’s on the phone now, and Paco is jumping on his legs, begging for attention.

We were having coffee outside, enjoying each other’s company, when his phone rang. Things are not like they used to be; we still have a long way to go to regain each other’s trust, but we are happy with the small steps we are taking.

The conversation my husband is having doesn’t seem good. He looks tense, defensive, and even without hearing his conversation, I can tell it’s a serious matter. He is standing in the middle of the room, phone in hand, head down, his abdomen bare, and wearing sweatpants. Every domestic scene warms my heart more, like him making pancakes for breakfast earlier or the large bouquet of peonies that miraculously appeared this morning.

I knew that just these gestures wouldn’t erase the pain Carlos and I had caused each other, but they were a good way to start this new journey.

I see him hang up the phone in a single, explosive gesture. He takes a breath while putting the device in his pocket.

“What’s your problem?” His voice echoes coldly in the room. I don’t understand who he is referring to or why he’s looking at me that way.

“What are you talking about?” I ask him, still confused as I approach his tense figure. The contrast with the relaxed figure he had before the phone call is clear. “What happened?”

“I tell you I love Martina, and you try to kill her? Is this how you want to move forward?” He explodes, his tone loud and desperate.

“What are you talking about? You think I tried to kill that girl? Are you out of your mind?” I ask him, my words stinging. Carlos looks at me as if I were a monster, and it hurts to be his first suspect. It hurts to know he thinks so poorly of me.

“What a great coincidence, isn’t it? I tell you how I feel about her, and today someone hits her car and flees.” He points at me as if he’s about to warn me. “You’re lucky she’s still alive.”

“Does it not occur to you that it could have been just a drunk idiot? Do you think so poorly of me that you believe I’d do something like that?” I exclaim, anger exploding from my body. That bitch had to ruin my life without me even doing anything to her.

“You lost the benefit of the doubt when you decided to killed those men.”

A car accident? I wouldn’t even have thought of that, and I had thought of many ways to get rid of the girl, but none involving her death—only involving putting a package with absurd amounts of drugs in her car and house, along with a call to the police.

Carlos’s words drive me crazy. I feel insane for hearing them because it can’t be true. His eyes look at me with disgust, as if I were a murderer.

“I don’t know how serious the accident was, but if I were you, I’d pray for her to be okay. It would prevent you from finally becoming a monster,” he says, and Paco runs away scared by the shouting.

I don’t think much after what I hear; my body is overtaken by rage, and I can only remember all the times Charles taught me to aim and shoot. That’s what I think about when I grab the closest object to me, a crystal vase, and throw it at Carlos.

The crystal shatters upon hitting the top of his head in small pieces. The noise is loud, and the whole house goes on alert before returning to its routine upon seeing the scene.

“Are you crazy?” He yells in shock, with glass shards all over the place, including in his hair, and small drops of blood running down his forehead.

“Maybe, but I’m not a murderer,” I say through clenched teeth. “Believe me, if I wanted her dead, there wouldn’t be any pieces of the car left to tell the tale, but I would never dirty my hands with someone as insignificant as her.”

The room turns into a chaos of shouting and arguing. Even though I love Carlos, I’m almost ready to throw another vase at him. I decide to stop arguing with him; it wouldn’t help when he’s so blinded by believing I would do such a thing. I turn around, leaving him to argue alone, and head back outside.

“You should leave, Carlos… I can’t stand looking at your face right now,” I say finally before leaving. “And don’t you dare ask anyone to clean up the mess you made,” I point to the floor and walk out.

I sit in a chair, not allowing myself to cry this time. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I spent a day without crying, so I forbid myself from doing it today! The scene that just occurred felt like it nailed the final stake into our marriage. There was no more unity, no more fidelity, respect, or love.

I couldn’t love for both of us alone, not when it was destroying me. When it was already destroying me.

“Your foot is bleeding,” I hear a voice pull me out of my thoughts, and when I look up, I see Charles.

“Oh,” I have no reaction. I look down and see the small pool of blood forming underneath the injured foot I hadn’t noticed before. “I must have stepped on one of the glass shards. I’ll take care of it…”

I try to reassure him and spare him from my melancholic company.

“Let me take care of it for you; just wait here, please,” he smiles, looking tense, possibly having witnessed the situation.

Just as I didn’t notice him leave, I didn’t notice him come back, this time with a first aid kit in hand. He kneels in front of me and gently takes my left foot.

“I can do this, Charles. Thank you,” I thank him and try to get rid of his presence.

“No, no, I insist,” he smiles worriedly, his eyes on me. There’s something there I can’t decipher; it’s not pity, but definitely something shining.

He opens the significantly large first aid kit that is necessary when someone with a gunshot or knife wound shows up at the house from time to time.

“Do you need anesthetic?” he asks, laughing.

“Although I would love to be high right now, it won’t be necessary,” I say, and he laughs lightly.

He pulls the glass shard out in one precise, smooth movement, and I watch as he cleans the wound with cotton and alcohol.

“To save you the trouble of investigating the accident… I didn’t do it,” I say to Charles.

“I know,” he replies, not bothering to look up at me, appearing certain of his opinion. “And I think if Carlos had a bit more reason and faith in you, he’d know that.”

It’s funny to watch him work with such calm and gentleness on a simple injury, contrasting sharply with all the memories of when he taught me to shoot and defend myself months ago.

“I didn’t teach you to do a job halfway and to leave traces. I have faith that you were a good student.” He looks up and smiles. Charles is the same age as me, but the difference between us is apparent. He’s lived and witnessed many things to be where he is now and still tries to be as gentle as possible in my company.

“Thank you,” I say, watching him as he wraps my foot with a bandage. It’s large and silly for the size of the cut, but the gesture enchants me.

I let my eyes wander away, to the garden or beyond it, my thoughts drifting. I don’t want to cry, not for Carlos. Just thinking about his name makes me sick, and I wonder why I did all this. Why did I sacrifice so much of my life for him? Why did I fight so hard for this marriage when it was destroying me?

It’s ironic how life presents things to us. Throughout my life, I’ve always loved art, preferring romantic ideals and works that depicted routine and brought peace. Now my life would be painted in a dark and melancholic canvas.

“If you could choose to be anything, what would you be?” I ask Charles, who is still kneeling in front of me, his hand gently touching my injured foot.

“What do you mean?” His green eyes look confused.

“I would have my own art gallery, or rather, I think I would like to work in a museum…” I let my mind wander, to what I could be if I weren’t here.

“In which museum?” he asks.

“In Washington,” I reply without thinking. “I think there cuz my favorite art is there, a beautiful Monet. I would be the happiest person to see it every day,” I smile at the scene in my mind, a genuine smile. “And you?”

“I think I would be a Formula 1 driver,” he laughs. “My childhood dream was to drive the red car around the world.”

“In another universe, I’m sure we’re doing that,” I smile at him, laughing. It’s silly to think about it, but it helps me calm down. “Please sit down.”

He closes the first aid kit and sets it aside, then sits in the chair next to me. He seems awkward or even embarrassed to do so.

“I don’t want to get divorced, Charles,” I murmur, scratching my forehead. I thought I would have more strength for this, that I wouldn’t give up so easily.

“He will find out it wasn’t you eventually” he murmurs.

“The problem isn’t the accident, or even Carlos. He isn’t that desperate about the divorce, and if he were, he would file for litigation” I sigh. “She wants the divorce; I just took a while to realize it… Carlos getting divorced is just a red flag for all his business, and it will make his life much more difficult… I just don’t know if I can handle it anymore.”

“Y/n…” the man calls me, then says, “You are the strongest woman I have ever known. You’ve been through so much and endured it as if it were just another normal day at work. You handle all the problems better than anyone here among us. You could be Carlos, but he could never be you.”

It’s the first time in a long while that a man makes me cry with joy.

One more part! I hope you guys are enjoying it!

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

[wlwprker]

please don’t leave s.r. x gn! reader [1]

a/n: im a sucker for hurt/comfort i fear; wrote this with s3-4 & migraine reid in mind but you can choose whichever one you prefer! (this got super long so i’m going to make this into parts!)

warnings: minimal proofreading, some swearing, brief descriptions of basic criminal minds violence (cases and whatnot), mentions of blood

wc: 1,374

you and the team were tirelessly hunting down an unsub before he hurt any more women. the unsub was going after single women in their mid-30s or 40s who were in higher-stakes jobs such as congresswoman, lawyer, doctor, etc.

the unsub felt these women should stay at home and be housewives instead of being out in authority like jobs. the unsub’s mother was the same way, and he never had a proper childhood. he longed for a better relationship with his mother, so he stripped children’s mothers away from them.

time was running out, and everybody was running on little to no sleep, working on every detail to not miss a single thing. after many hours of looking into every victim, every connection, and every location, you finally found him. everyone raced against the clock, finally got his location, and were able to rescue three girls. you felt a tiny sense of relief at this fact; it helps to know you could still save people.

you knew this unsub’s type, and while you knew that you didn’t meet the criteria, there was no telling what he’d do to get his way.

“stay with me, okay?” spencer ordered in a soft tone. he was just being a good team member, and while you both knew that you could hold your own,.

this killer. he was erratic and aggressive.

you knew that spencer would give you a lecture if he knew that you ignored his orders, but that was the least of your worries.

you rounded a corner with your gun held out in front of you, and you took in every corner on high alert. you peeked inside a room, checking your surroundings before entering. the lights were off, and of course the light switch was not working.

you turned your flashlight on, and you had your back turned for not even half a second.

as soon as you turned around, the unsub attempted to throw you across the room, but you caught his wrist in a forceful grip.

“you don’t need to do this. this ends now," you said in a firm voice, but the unsub did not listen. you tried to get him to back down, but he wasn’t listening. you kept your gun raised, but you could not see where he went.

“you’re not my type, but I’ll take my chances, the unsub said, and you started to turn around, but before you could react, he had raised a crowbar and hit you in the head, and you had collapsed to the floor. you were dizzy, and your vision was blurry as you attempted to stand up.

the sound of a thud had alerted the entire team, and everyone was on extra-high alert, thoroughly checking every corner of the house and looking for the source.

“spencer, where did they go?” emily whispered, noticing they were down an agent. spencer’s heart dropped to the floor; he must have turned around when you slipped away from him.

“son of a bitch! i told them to stay with me,” spencer mumbled to himself.

spencer took a deep breath to calm himself down as the two of them searched the house. spencer froze in place when he walked into a pitch-black room and saw you lying on the floor. he was internally panicking.

“can you hear me?” spencer asked, and you were slipping in and out; everything around you was blurring, and everyone talking to you sounded like they were millions of miles away.

after a while, you could no longer hear or see anything; you were knocked out. spencer took a shaky breath as he placed two fingers on the side of your neck and sighed in relief when he found a pulse.

“we need a medic!” emily yelled into her walkie-talkie. spencer was freaking out, wondering what he could have done to prevent this.

“hey, it’s not your fault; you know that, right?” jj said as she watched spencer internally cursing himself.

“i turned around for barely a second, and they just...” spencer trailed off, and jj led him out of the house as they had successfully located the unsub and arrested him.

after a painful silence, the medics arrived and took you out on a gurney. the side of your head was bleeding, and you were not waking up.

“go, I’ll tell hotch; he’ll understand, emily said as she watched spencer look at you with a pained look on his face. he silently nodded and stayed with the medics as they took you to the hospital.

the ride to the hospital was a deadly silence; he longed for your voice, even one of your silly jokes, anything.

once you got to the hospital, despite his best efforts, spencer was sent to the waiting room. as he waited for the verdict, he was bouncing his knees constantly, his mind racing with millions of possibilities.

he hated waiting. not knowing if you were okay drove him crazy; he wanted to scream.

the doctor came out, and spencer stood up fast. he listened intently, and a sigh of relief washed over him as the doctor told him that you were going to be okay.

“am I able to see them?” spencer asked anxiously, and the doctor nodded. “yes, they need lots of rest, but you can go visit.” the doctor smiled as they walked to your room.

his heart ached when he saw you lying on a bed with a bandage on the side of your head and hooked up to a machine, peacefully sleeping.

he was so glad you’re okay.

spencer took a seat and watched you cautiously; he didn’t want to disturb you.

you slowly opened your eyes, saw spencer, and smiled lightly.

“hey spence, did you guys catch him?” you asked faintly. spencer’s heart twisted in agony at the sound of your voice.

“we did, but you need your rest. i just wanted to see how you were doing.”

you smiled and tried to sit up, but spencer stopped you with a warning look in his eyes.

“don’t move; you need to rest.”

“i’m fine; it was just a scratch.” you attempted to joke, but it came out weakly.

“you got hit in the head with a crowbar, and you passed out—more than scratch there,” spencer said, sighing.

“the doctor said i could go home within the next few days, maybe sooner,” you said, and spencer didn’t respond; he just held your hand with a sad look on his face.

“hey, i’m okay.”

he cut you off with a deep sigh.

“why did you ignore my orders? i told you to stay with me. damn it, why didn’t you stay? i don’t know what I would have done if” spencer trailed off.

“i’m fine, spencer.”

“no, you’re not; you got hurt!” spencer was frustrated. how could you not see this was killing him?

“but I’m here; i’m going to be...”

“stop talking.”

you looked at him strangely, confused as to why he was so on edge.

“spencer, i’m fine; i don’t know what has you so worked up, but...”

“please stop talking,” he said, rubbing his forehead as he finally looked you in the eyes.

“do you know that 258 people in 100,000 enter a coma each year due to acute brain injury?” spencer stated, frustration evident in his voice. you stared at him, confused.

“what does that have to do with anything?"

“you are lucky that you don’t have a brain injury; you could have been at risk of going into a fucking coma for who knows how long! what i’m saying is, i wish you didn’t go off by yourself because i would never forgive myself if i lost you. do you understand me?” spencer said it in a stern voice, which caught you off guard.

“spencer, i can handle myself just fine, and i’m okay, aren’t I?”

spencer shook his head furiously.

“you’re not listening to me.”

the silence filled the room; it was the loudest silence you’ve ever witnessed.

you tried to speak, but spencer just sighed. “you need rest; i’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”

you just nodded, the conversation still on your mind. why was he so upset? you didn’t have the energy to dwell on it.

“spencer,” you called out.

he turned around with a curious look in his eyes.

“can you stay a little longer?” you asked quietly.

[guywrestlingaddiction]

Frot Fighters: Dan the Man v Jax Thirio (wrestler4hire.com)

Sometimes there are no losers in a wrestling match. There are times when everyone gets a little of what they want, whether they'd like to admit it or not. Take Dan the Man and Jax Thirio for example. 

Dan the Man v Jax Thirio (wrestler4hire.com)

SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.

So let's begin with the "Fight": 

We start with Jax eye humping a fellow wrestler in the locker room when the new guy has the audacity to bounce his pecs at him.  Maybe Dan has something to prove, maybe he's used to intimidating other guys with that incredible body of his, or maybe this is all completely in Jax's head - all we know is that he's come to teach the better built, younger stud, a painful lesson in manners.  

Jax: You just got here.  Dan: You look pretty easy to me. 

Without much space, Dan isn't able to use that height advantage and plus he's sufficiently intimidated by the older wrestler to reach his potential.  The guy is a total stud and he can outmuscle anyone, but in this situation, he's taken down a few notches.  

Jax coping a feel between rounds.

There are some half hearted grappling rounds with Dan shoving that beefy body around, but Jax is just too good.  In the end we are met with a sweat drenched Dan beaten by a barely winded Jax.  

Dan does have some fight in him though, at times putting that body to use and outmuscling Jax.  At one point, the rookie seems destined to pin his opponent only to be overcome with lust and get carried away by some other action.  

Dan going for the pin gets a little distracted before victory. '

But by the end, we all knew that Jax would conquer Dan and get him to admit that being owned is what he wanted all along.  Dan's chronic whimpers give away that he needs this.  We finally come to find out that our dashing Dan likes the feeling of a superior man dominating him just too much.  

Jax: You like that? Yeah? You like being my little bitch? Dan: *Whimper* *Whimper* ... yeah

Jax: Say it.  Say you're the boss Dan: You're ... the ... boss

Then we'll get to the Frot: 

Whatever wrestling there was eventually gives way to the frot.  Jax pushes the boundaries further and further - grabbing on to that body longer than he needs to, putting a hold on tighter than necessary, all the while making Dan moan and whimper.  Eventually, the line is crossed and we've gone from wrestling to a test of dominance.  

At one point Jax subdued by lust completely forgets about wrestling and truly begins to take in all that manliness.  Yes, Jax wants to win the match but some forces are just to primal to overcome.  

Jax can't fight back temptation any longer and needs to embrace this

There's more than one way to win the match and maybe Dan can tame his aggressor through lust.

Not content with winning, Jax goes into dom territory and forcing the beautiful stud to suck on his sweaty pitts.  Commence the worship...

Jax: You like those sweaty pitts? Dan: *Gag* *Gag*

------- So there you have it. This is a solid frot match where both wrestlers' deep fantasy's come to light.  Jax gets his very own cocky stud to toy with and Dan gets owned in a way he secretly longed for.  Dan may go through life having men and women swoon over him but deep down his intense craving to be dominated is eagerly filled by Jax.  Wrestling as always, tells an intimate story and this time Dan and Jax both got the endings they never knew they craved. 

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Denim on Denim

A Seams x Grays crossover

Summary: Joel tries to get a haircut - but it turns out he can’t do anything in the QZ without getting into a fistfight, and you’re lucky enough to be in the audience.

Warnings: Mildly spicy thoughts, two sexy men fighting, language, reader was a hairdresser prior to the outbreak and has a nickname related to her job, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader, very lightly edited.

This oneshot can be read independently of the two series, but for the full experience, I recommend reading at least Grays. This is a post-outbreak AU of Grays, and is set before Seams Joel leaves the QZ. Part of the Shiv's salon drabbles.

Word count: 2.7k

Notes: A whole year after my random thoughts about how Joel's hair looks that good in an apocalypse and a random notif on this post that reminded of it, we finally get Joel to Shiv's salon... or do we? 🤷🏻‍♀️ I had a blast writing this oneshot - it's a bit silly, a bit spicy, I hope you enjoy it ❤️

‘Goddamnit.’

Joel swipes viciously at the curl hanging over eyes, like a boxer at a punchbag. Try as he might to slick it back, every time his shovel hits the dirt, the hair uncoils, bouncing obnoxiously in his field of vision.

He needs a fucking haircut. Tess usually does it for him every month or so, but she’s been in a mood - snapping at him, keeping him at arm’s length, she hasn’t even been to his apartment for two whole weeks.

This time of the year is hard for her. He knows all too well that he’s the same every September. They’re in each of their own time loops, a cage within the trappings of the QZ.

‘You look like you need a trim, bro.’

Joel barely glances up. He knows the guy, they share a surname after all. People call him Ben, or Benny, and even an old man like him knows he’s a good-looking son of a bitch.

They work the same shifts sometimes, and he knows Tess has crossed paths with him at the illegal fight nights. Joel has also seen him a few times at the bar, where he’s usually surrounded by even more good-looking motherfuckers.

Joel knows he’s a damn flirt too. He always has pretty words for Tess when he sees her. He’s harmless though, and he supposes that she deserves sweet nothings from at least one Miller since he’s no good at them.

Realising he hasn’t responded, Joel grunts noncommittally, self-consciousness prickling the back of his neck.

‘I know someone, she was a professional hairdresser before all this.’

Joel ignores him and keeps shovelling.

‘If you tell her you know me, she’ll give you a good rate.’

More shovelling.

‘Alright man, my shift’s up. See you ‘round.’

Five steps, and Joel sighs, digging the shovel into the dirt.

‘Wait.’

Joel stands on the doorway, and stares.

There’s an actual backwash in the corner of the dingy living room - well, living space. There are no doors in the tenement apartments.

‘You waiting for it to say hello back, or what?’

His eyes snap to yours, a scowl drawing his brows together.

Not that you look at all intimidated, one eyebrow arched high and an amused smile sitting lopsided on your lips, which he will admit throws him just a bit. He’s not used to having to work for it.

Giving you a tight nod, he takes two steps into the apartment. He recognises the layout, a mirror of his own, which is a few blocks away.

Closing the door with a flourish behind him, you ask brightly, ‘You’re here for a haircut?’

He’s about to answer when something winks at him, and he looks up, momentarily blinded by the reflection of afternoon light in the cracked mirror that hangs over a battered styling station.

Your apartment has windows that don’t look directly onto the next building, and sun floods the space. Even light is a real rarity in the shithole of a QZ, where everything indoors is dingy. He idly wonders if you had to bribe someone -

Distracted, he catches the sliver of a shadow moving from the corner of his eye a split second later than he would if he was on high alert. On reflex, his fingers find the hilt of his knife and he whips it out in a wide arc, swinging to his left where gunmetal catches the afternoon light.

‘Drop it!’ he barks, the same moment as the other man growls, ‘The fuck are you doing in my home with a knife?’

To Joel’s bewilderment, you chuckle somewhere to his right, amused. ‘C’mon guys. Dramatic, much?’

‘He snuck up on me,’ Joel growls defensively.

‘Frankie, put your gun away, dude’s just here for a haircut - I’m assuming anyway, he never did answer my question.’

‘Yes, I’m here for a haircut,’ he snaps, resheathing his knife. ‘Fuck would I be doin’ here if not?’

‘Fuck should I know, dipshit?’ retorts Frankie, tucking his gun in the back of his jeans. ‘You always bring a knife to your haircuts?’

‘D’ya always threaten to shoot paying customers?’

‘No, we definitely do not.’ You step into the space between the two men in case they get snippy with each other again. ‘Who sent you?’

Your customer crosses his arms, and you can’t help noticing the fabric of his shirt stretching across those broad shoulders. ‘Blondie.’

‘Blondie?’ you frown, confused. ‘Oh wait, you mean Ben? I thought I recognised you. I’ve seen you at one of his fights, with your wife? What’s her name now -’

‘Tess,’ he replies, then promptly looks like he wishes he’d stopped himself before he answered. ‘She’s not my -’ he trails off, and it’s clear he doesn’t like how you’re reading him at the moment, grumbling, ‘None of your damn business.’

‘Hey, you watch your mouth around my lady, old man,’ warns Frankie, ratcheting up the tension again.

Squaring his shoulders, the man seems to grow two inches. ‘Or what?’

Suddenly aware of being caught in the crossfire between your protective husband on one side, and this gruff, silvered stranger on the other, heat bubbles unbidden under your skin, the unexpected reaction from your body catching you off guard.

Biting your lower lip, you clear your throat, and somehow you sound steadier than you feel when you dispense the orders. 

‘Ok, this is enough. Frankie, sit down over there,’ you say, pointing him in the direction of the couch on the other side of the room. ‘And you - since you’re Benny’s friend, two ration cards.’

‘’M not his friend,’ he almost spits out that last word, as if it tastes weird.

You give him a pointed look. ‘Three ration cards, then.’

He huffs, and hands you two from his back pocket. ‘Fine, I’m Benny’s friend.’

You grin. ‘If you’re besties, it’s one.’

‘Don’t push it.’

You back off with a chuckle. ‘Fine, not besties. Maybe next time. Now sit.’

Joel does as he’s told, awkwardly, in the styling chair, a relic from the pre-outbreak days. It creaks dangerously under his weight, and it wobbles, slightly off-kilter. The cracked leather is warm from the sun, which seeps into his skin, and he finds himself wondering when was the last time he went to a hair salon.

Sarah used to love cutting his hair. She always made an afternoon out of it on one of his rare days not working overtime, putting the music on, setting up her Barbie mirror on the dining room table, and having him pick out a hairstyle from a magazine (it never looked anywhere near like the photos). She’d even put a disposable raincoat over him like a hairdresser’s cape. She really wasn’t any good, there’s a reason why Tommy didn’t let her anywhere near his curls, but he always wore her handiwork with pride -

So lost in his thoughts, he reacts purely on instinct when, for the first time in decades, fingers other than his own find his hair.

Swivelling around, he’s out of the chair in a split second, fingers wrapped tight around your wrists. You yelp as he pushes you back against the wall, which he sees from the shape of your lips but doesn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears.

Joel barely holds you there for a second before he’s yanked backwards by a hand on the back of his collar, and he stumbles, crashing into the adjacent wall. He barely misses the fist heading towards his face, ducking just in time to save himself what would undoubtedly have been a broken nose.

He barrels into the younger man with his shoulder, expecting him to tumble back, and is surprised when he doesn’t budge. Joel’s aware he’s got a few years on him, but he more than holds his own against punks that age on the daily. This guy clearly has a background in combat, and it’s taking Joel everything to stay on his feet.

In the meantime, you’re still plastered against the wall, dazed by your customer’s reaction. Heck, you haven’t even gotten his name yet before he literally jumped you. He’s a skittish one, that’s for sure. 

You smile at the memory of Frankie’s first time with you at the salon - he’d give this guy a good run for his money. Lucky for him, you’ve always been good at wrangling the nervous ones.

Speaking of, the two men are now literally wrestling in front of you. If you had to venture a guess by the grays in the hair, you reckon your customer is pushing fifty. He’s built like a fucking tank though, and he’s giving everything he’s got.

So you decide to watch for a little while. Boys will be boys, best leave them to let off some steam. Leaning against the wall, you get comfortable, and you think wistfully to yourself that Ashton would have loved this view.

You’re not sure how you missed that they’re both wearing denim on denim, and you would struggle to pick out which is your husband if not for the hat on his head. Yes, the damn cap survived the apocalypse with him.

They are remarkably similar in build, though your customer seems to stand just a couple of inches taller. His biceps flex and bulge through the shirt sleeves as he scuffles with Frankie, teeth bared; meanwhile, your husband plants his feet, jeans stretched tight over his adorable little ass, trying to hold the man back long enough to throw a punch.

If the room was warm when they were trading barbs, it’s positively sweltering right now.

All you can see are broad shoulders and fabric bursting at the seams, grappling fingers and clenched fists. Back muscles rippling through denim, teasing slivers of skin and soft bellies when shirttails ride up and jeans fall low. The cheerful afternoon sun kisses their skin golden, casting long shadows across the creaking wooden floor.

And they’re not quiet. Throaty grunts as they jostle, panted breath peppered with cusses, fuck’s and sons of bitches as they wrestle for control.

Suddenly, you’re the one who’s out of breath despite not moving a muscle.

As much as you would’ve loved to stand and watch, you can tell both men are starting to get winded. You don’t exactly want the show to end, entertainment is hard to come by in the QZ, let alone of such a visually stimulating variety, in your own living room. But you think you hear the older man wheeze, their shirts are now stained with sweat, and the frantic energy they started with turns heavy with lethargy.

With a rueful sigh, you speak up, ‘Frankie, come on, that’s enough now.’

He growls, ‘No fucking way. He tried to hurt you!’

‘He barely touched me. It was just his PTSD acting out.’

‘I don’t have PTSD,’ the man protests, shooting you a glare before dodging an elbow.

‘There’s no shame in having PTSD,’ you admonish him. ‘Or in getting help.’

‘Why don’t you give me a hand then?’ he scoffs, tipping his head at Frankie.

‘Yeah, looks like you can use it,’ your husband taunts him.

‘Sure you can’t, asshole? Can’t even take down an old man on your own?’

‘I hope you're hungry, 'cause you're gonna eat your words, asshole -’

Hands on hips, you roll your eyes at the exceedingly average trash talk. ‘You know what? I tried asking nicely - I’m going in.’

It’s a tight squeeze, but somehow, you find a space between the elbows and shoulders and knees, and you wedge yourself in. It’s hot and humid between the two men, who are still trying to get at each other, despite the fact that you now have one hand on each of their chests, trying to pry them apart. Trapped between the two solid walls of chest, their raw strength vibrates through you, through harsh panting breath, the musk of sweat and man, and denim rubs rough on your bare skin where you’re pressed up against them.

It’s not hard to imagine being in this position in an entirely different situation, with the axis tilted, on a softer surface. Heat prickles all over you like needles, and unbeknownst to you, your thighs press together, and your panties start to feel sticky -

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ asks Frankie, incredulous as he looms over you, still grabbing onto the other guy’s shirt.

You bat your eyelashes at him, then crane your neck over your shoulder to wink at the other man. A little spiral of a curl dangles over his eyes as he glares at you, puffs of warm air hitting the shell of your ear. 

Knowing that your best chance of breaking off this nonsense is to wildly offend both men, you purr, ‘Making a delicious sandwich ‘cause I’m famished -’

Frankie flushes bright red instantly, and he roars, ‘Get your filthy hands off my wife, son of a bitch!’

Not that his hands are anywhere near you (a tragedy), nonetheless, the man jumps five feet back, as if you burned him. He may deny Tess being his wife, but the look of absolute horror of being accused of touching you speaks volumes.

You can tell he would have doubled over catching his breath, hands on his knees, if not for his pride. Stubbornly, he stands tall, hands on hips, chest heaving.

‘Bit jumpy, are we?’ you quip.

‘You always that handsy?’ he retorts.

‘Can’t help myself with beautiful curls like yours,’ you wink, and your smile widens when he flushes.

Frankie throws up his hands in disbelief. ‘Shiv, I’m standing right here.’

‘You always are,’ you tease, pressing a kiss to his pinched lips. ‘Now, go take a walk, you've made enough of a scene.’

‘I’m not leaving you here with him -’

The older man scoffs. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not interested in your woman.’

You feign indignation. ‘Hey! That’s hurtful.’

‘You should be, jackass!’ Frankie gripes, and promptly looks as confused as the other man at his own pronouncement.

Taking his hand, you pull him towards the door. ‘Go on babe, you were going to have a drink with Pope anyway. I got everything under control.’

‘Alright,’ Frankie relents, but not before he points a menacing finger at your customer. ‘If he tries anything -’

‘I know where the gun is,’ you finish his sentence.

Pressing one final kiss to your lips and throwing a glare over your shoulder, Frankie turns and leaves - and you preen at the knowledge that he trusts you can take care of yourself.

Once the door closes, you smile. ‘So… should we start over?’

 The man snorts. ‘I’d say.’

‘I’m Shiv,’ you say, but you don’t offer him your hand. He doesn’t seem to be the handshaking type.

He picks up on your perception, studying you with curious eyes. ‘Joel.’

Pushing the swivel chair back to the styling station, you gesture at him to retake his seat, and this time, you make sure his eyes are on yours in the mirror while you stand over his shoulder.

‘Hair’s a bit long, huh?’ you remark, eyeing the ringlet over his eyes.

‘It’s drivin’ me nuts,’ he admits.

You hold up your hands this time, giving him plenty of notice. ‘May I?’

He nods, and you start small, wrapping the spiral around your index finger with a grin. ‘I wasn’t just saying it, y’know. You do have beautiful hair.’

He shifts awkwardly, the chair squeaking, obviously uncomfortable with compliments. ‘Dunno. I’m all gray and shit.’

‘As someone wise once said, grays are sexy as fuck,’ you assure him. Running your fingers through his curls, you study the texture critically, noting the blunt ends and uneven thickness. Nothing a professional haircut can’t fix. ‘Trust me, I’m very wise.’

He hums, unconvinced, but you can see the lines around his eyes crease in amusement. ‘If you say so.’

You wink at him in the mirror. ‘When I’m done with you, Tess will have the hardest time keeping her hands to herself.’

‘What makes you think she doesn’t already?’

It takes you a moment to unfreeze, stunned by his retort. At his arched eyebrow, you burst into laughter. ‘You’re a sassy one, aren’t you, Joel?’

He huffs, half-amused, and shakes his head. ‘It’s a haircut, not a miracle.’

You squeeze his shoulder, grinning when he doesn’t jump at the contact. ‘Trust me, I’m just that good at my job.’

More notes: If you enjoyed this oneshot, I wrote a series of drabbles of Shiv giving other Pedro boys haircuts - you can find them in the Grays masterlist 🩶 I may write more for this universe and some point if inspiration strikes again, thank you for reading!

And if you wanted an inspo shot of Joel's hair, here you go ❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics