#But don’t worry some of them are still little shits like like their counter parts ;D

[bleue-flora]

i’m absolutely devouring ur playdate au i LOVE IT ‼️‼️‼️

lol I love how my random afternoon thought took over like a virus XD... Not sure there is a cure I’m afraid. ;)

[blog-o-meter]

Pump It Up - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: Rained in, (Y/N) decides to workout at home while Nicholas reads a script in the kitchen. Halfway through, though, she realizes that he wasn’t really reading anymore.

warnings: 18+, caught masturbating, needy!nicholas, established relationship, dom/sub undertones, voyeurism, exhibitionism, denial

required listening: n/a

word count: 4,123

a/n: here’s a quick little fic <3 im sorry my word counts are so long compared to others’ — my brain literally won’t let me write unless I drag scenes out to make them seem more realistic/plausible in my head, if that makes sense LOL

reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you’d like to see more!

The rain outside was relentless, its constant drum against the window and the occasional rumble of thunder enough to convince me to not leave the house. I’d driven through too many rain storms in this neighborhood to know that risking getting my car flooded from driving through the backed up water at the end of the road was not worth it. That’s horrible infrastructure for you.

I had plans of hitting the gym, maybe even treating myself to a little smoothie that I had been looking forward to all day. Just thinking about the tartness of a berry smoothie after a grueling workout was enough to make my mouth water, but it looked like the rain wasn’t going to let up. The worst part was I had already gotten dressed, and I had so much pent up energy ready to be exerted.

That’s when I thought — why not just do my workout here? The living room was spacious enough, and as long as I had my music, I think I could manage. Sure, I wouldn’t have access to any of the fancy machinery, but I could still do some sets without anything extra — planks, sit-ups, Russian twists, leg raises, etc.

Determined to use up my energy, I grabbed my phone and earbuds and walked out of the bedroom, making my way over to the open-concept living room to find Nicholas perched on the kitchen counter, his back to me. He had been tirelessly looking over a potential script his agent had given him earlier — writing notes, highlighting pieces of dialogue, the like.

I set down my things on the coffee table before coming up behind him, running my hand up his back and settling it on his shoulder, giving him a little massage as I looked over the booklet open in front of him. He let out a sigh, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close.

“Nic, is it ok if I work out here?” I asked while I brushed away the single strand of hair flopped over his forehead.

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded his head.

I turned my attention to the script, bending over the counter a bit to reach for it. The half-scribbled nonsense caught my eye. I could barely make out any of the words he had written, but I guess the only person that had to understand it was Nicholas — and the guy knows his shit.

“Are you sure it won’t bother you while you’re looking over your script?” I asked as I flipped through the script casually.

Nicholas chuckled, leaning back slightly on the stool. His arm stayed wrapped around my waist, his thumb brushing idly against my side. “Don’t worry; I’ll tune it out.”

I smiled, thankful for his understanding. I planted a quick kiss on his temple, running my fingers through the back of his hair. “I’ll try to keep it quiet,” I said as I pulled away from his grasp and walked toward the open space between the coffee table and the tv in the living room.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a yoga mat, so the laminate floor would have to do, whether I liked it or not. Maybe I’d get used to the stiff floor the more my workout progressed, and I would have already done my exercise for the day by then. Note to self: buy a yoga mat.

I grabbed my earbuds, deciding to only put one in just in case Nicholas told me to keep it down, and reached for my phone to press play on my workout playlist, which consisted of EBM and Acid House — no lyrics for maximum concentration. Plus, it helped me keep a steady rhythm.

I began with a series of deep stretches, my arms reaching high above my head before I bent forward, letting my fingertips brush the floor. A quiet groan escaped my lips as I felt the soreness from yesterday’s workout still lingering.

The music pumped softly in one ear, the beat steady and hypnotic as I transitioned through my warm-up. I shifted into a runner’s lunge, my knee grazing the cold laminate as I leaned into the stretch. A soft sigh slipped out, my muscles pulling deliciously.

Rolling up slowly, I shook out my legs and moved into a few standing side bends, my hands clasped over my head. My breathing grew deeper, the ache in my sides fading as I worked through it. A low hum escaped me as I twisted my torso, relishing the sensation of each vertebra popping gently back into alignment.

I stood straight then, shaking my arms as I prepared to start the real workout. “Okay,” I muttered to myself.

I dropped to the floor for my first set of planks, planting my hands firmly and aligning my body. The strain hit almost immediately, my core engaging as I held the position. My breathing grew audible, sharp exhales through pursed lips as I counted the seconds.

“One… two… three…” My voice was quiet but breathy, each number punctuated by a soft grunt.

The timer on my phone ticked down, and when I reached thirty seconds, I pushed myself into a series of shoulder taps. My palm slapped the floor softly with each shift of weight, my breaths turning into little gasps as the effort increased.

“Almost there,” I whispered to myself, my tone more encouraging than determined.

When I finally finished the set, I rolled onto my back, chest heaving and gasping while the music in my ear pulsed. I clocked Nicholas shift in the stool then, but I didn’t think much of it. He had been sitting there a few hours now; his back must’ve been stinging.

Next up were leg raises. Lying flat on my back, I slid my hands beneath my lower back for support and lifted my legs until they were perpendicular to the floor. Lowering them slowly, I felt the familiar burn in my lower abs. Those were killer.

“God,” I groaned softly, squeezing my eyes shut as I held the hover position just above the floor.

My voice came out in broken exhales as I finished the set, letting my legs drop to the floor with a thud. My head tilted back, and I let out an exaggerated sigh, the exertion starting to creep up on me.

After a moment of rest, I rolled back onto my knees and pushed myself into a standing position. I moved into a series of squats, setting my feet shoulder-width apart and sinking low with each rep. The burn in my thighs was immediate, but I leaned into it, pushing deeper with every squat.

“One… two…” My voice grew louder, the numbers mingled with quiet grunts as I tried to keep my form steady.

By the time I reached 20, a soft whimper escaped me. I straightened, pausing to catch my breath before diving into the second set. Midway through, I let out a particularly loud groan, the sound filling the quiet room. I glanced over my shoulder toward the kitchen, half-expecting Nicholas to say something, but he remained silent, his back still turned.

He shifted in the stool again then. I noticed it this time — the way Nicholas’s arm moved. It wasn’t just a casual shift in his posture or an adjustment of his script. His elbow dipped, his shoulder tensed, and there was a sort of rhythm to it.

I thought it weird, but I pushed through the rest of my squats, continuing my quiet counting. But from the corner of my eye I could see him continuing to move his arm ever so slightly, like he didn’t want me to see. And of course, curiosity got the best of me.

When I finished the set, I let out an audible sigh to signal that I had finished my squats. His back was still to me, and I could see past the outline of his other arm on the counter that the script was still open in front of him, but his movements were stiff.

I strolled toward the kitchen under the guise of grabbing something to drink, letting my footsteps fall heavy against the floor to make noise. As I neared, I noticed the faint tremor in his shoulders as he turned the slightest bit away from me as I rounded the counter and made my way toward the fridge, opening the door casually.

I pulled out one of the cold-pressed juices Nicholas liked to keep stocked to indulge in after coming home from the gym and closed the door. I turned around on my heels, glancing over to him. His jaw was clenched, and he didn’t flick his eyes up once to glance up at me. I also noticed his left arm was under the counter while his right arm was propping up his chin, his pointer finger curled against his lips.

“Hey, Nic,” I said, my voice light as I twisted the cap off the juice bottle with a crisp crack. “Is my workout bothering you?”

He stiffened, his body locking up as if I’d just caught him in the middle of something incriminating. “No,” he said quickly, his voice unusually tight. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

I raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of the juice as I watched him. He still wasn’t looking at me, his focus seemingly glued to the script in front of him, but he didn’t even have a pencil in his hand anymore, the pencil laying flat some inches away as if forgotten.

“Are you sure?” I asked, the tiniest bit amused at his behavior.

“It’s fine,” he replied a little too fast, his voice clipped. He shifted on the stool, his left arm pulling slightly closer to his body.

I lingered for a moment longer, watching the subtle tremor in his shoulders and the way his right hand moved to grip the edge of the counter. It was obvious he didn’t want me to see what he was doing.

“Alright,” I said with a shrug, “Let me know if I’m being too loud.”

I rounded the counter again, noticing from the corner of my eye Nicholas shifting his body away from me another time as I passed by to make my way back to the living room.

I didn’t sit down right away, instead taking my time to stretch dramatically, letting out a long exhale as I reached for my toes, glancing periodically over to Nicholas. Now that he had shifted from his previous position, I could catch his reflection from the framed artwork hung on the wall perpendicular to him, and it gave me a full view of what he was doing.

Nicholas’s left arm was indeed beneath the counter, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that told me everything I needed to know.

He was helping himself.

His head was tilted slightly forward as if he were trying to focus on the script, his jaw tight, and his eyes were closed — completely lost in the moment. His right hand gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles white, as though grounding himself in reality, and he was being very mindful of keeping his noises to himself.

I froze mid-stretch, my fingertips grazing my toes as I processed what I was seeing. Heat rushed to my face and neck, a mix of shock and complete amusement. He had no idea I could see him — no idea that his every movement was perfectly reflected in the glossy surface of the artwork.

The realization sent a jolt of excitement through me. The idea of Nicholas pleasuring himself while listening to me grunt and huff was like a spark to my flame, and I intended to add more fuel.

Straightening from my stretch, I took a moment to steady my breathing and hide the growing smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. If Nicholas wanted to keep up his little secret act, I’d give him something to really work with.

Dropping back down to the floor, I positioned myself for a new set of planks, but this time, I exaggerated every movement, letting my body shift slowly as I adjusted my form. “Alright,” I muttered, just loud enough to carry over the sound of the rain outside.

As I held the plank, I let out a low groan, my voice breathy and drawn out. “God, that felt so good,” I said, my words broken by strained exhales.

From the corner of my eye, I could see his reflection in the artwork. Nicholas’s hand paused for the briefest moment before resuming its rhythm, a little quicker this time. His shoulders hunched slightly, his body shifting as if he were trying to control himself.

Biting back a grin, I moved into shoulder taps, each motion accompanied by a soft grunt. “One… two… three…” I counted aloud, my voice deliberately low and husky.

Nicholas’s head dipped lower, his jaw clenching tighter as his hand moved beneath the counter.

“Is my counting bothering you, Nic?” I called out between breaths, my tone innocent but teasing as I watched him through the reflection.

His head snapped up, and for a second, I thought he might stop altogether. But he quickly recovered, clearing his throat before replying, “No, I’m fine. Keep going.” His voice was rough, strained, and completely unconvincing.

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “You sure?”

His jaw tightened, and he dropped his head back down, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to stroke himself. “I’m sure,” he muttered. “Just… focus on your workout.”

“Ok,” I replied lightly, smiling to myself and dropping my hips to the floor as I transitioned into a set of cobra stretches. My back arched as I pushed up onto my hands, letting out a loud groan as I tilted my head back.

Nicholas’s breathing hitched audibly, and I couldn’t resist glancing at his reflection again. His movements had picked up just the tiniest bit of speed, as if he were afraid going any faster might have me catch on. His other hand, though, gripped the counter so tightly I thought it might leave marks.

Pushing back onto my knees, I transitioned into a child’s pose, my arms reaching out in front of me as I let my hips sink low, making sure I let out a soft moan. I tilted my head just enough to glance at the reflection, catching the way Nicholas’s head dipped even lower, his movements more frantic now.

My lips curled into a smirk as I pulled myself up from the floor and removed my earbud, tossing it onto the couch so it could land without making a sound. Keeping my steps light so as to not warn him, I slowly made my way over to Nicholas, inching my way closer and closer.

When I was close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, I paused, watching as Nicholas continued, completely unaware of my presence. His head was still bowed, his breathing shallow and uneven, his left hand continuing to stroke himself under the counter. I bit my lip, the smirk on my face growing as I leaned forward, positioning myself just behind him.

I stayed there for a moment, hovering, my own breath steady and quiet, while he was too lost in his own world to notice. Then, as quietly as possible, I leaned in until my lips were just inches from his ear, waiting a few beats before letting out a soft moan.

Nicholas froze, his entire body locking up as his hand stopped mid-motion. His head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock, and I could see the flush spreading rapidly up his neck and cheeks. He started to pull his hand away, stammering something incoherent, but I was faster.

I reached down, my hand sliding beneath the counter to replace his. His sharp inhale echoed in the quiet room, and I could feel the tension in his body as I wrapped my fingers around his hard length.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I murmured, my lips brushing against his ear as I began to move my hand in slow, deliberate strokes. With my free hand, I brushed my fingers through Nicholas’s hair, clutching it in a fist and lightly pulling his head back toward me.

Nicholas’s head fell back against my shoulder, letting out a low, guttural sound as his mouth fell open and his chest rose and fell with labored breaths. His hand, now free, gripped the edge of the counter again, his knuckles whitening as he held on for dear life.

“Did the sounds I was making turn you on, huh?” I teased, my voice a soft purr in his ear as my hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm.

Nicholas groaned in response, his voice ragged and desperate. “Mm-hmm,” he muttered, nodding as his breathing grew heavier. His free hand slid up to cover his face, his embarrassment palpable even as his body betrayed his need. But I made sure to pull his hand away, wanting to see his beautiful face.

“Don’t hide from me,” I whispered, tightening my grip on his wrist to keep his hand away from his face. “You wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? Isn’t this what you wanted?” I teased, increasing the pressure of my hand just enough to make him gasp.

Nicholas let out a shaky breath as his body gave into my touch. His chest rose and fell erratically, and he whimpered softly at the teasing in my voice.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper. His hips bucked slightly into my hand, and he let out a needy moan, his restraint crumbling. “Please… don’t stop,” he begged, his voice trembling.

Nicholas’s desperation was intoxicating, and I couldn’t help but savor the way he melted under my touch. His vulnerability was rare, and seeing him this undone because of me was exhilarating. I let out a quiet moan into his ear, mimicking the sounds I was making while working out.

“Such a good boy,” I murmured against his ear, letting my lips brush against the shell of it. My hand continued its slow, steady rhythm, deliberately teasing him. His hips jerked, seeking more friction, but I tightened my grip slightly, controlling the pace.

“Please,” he whispered again, his voice cracking with need. “I need…”

I chuckled softly, my breath warm against his skin. “Need more…?” I asked, my tone dripping with playful cruelty.

Nicholas whimpered, his hand clutching at the counter like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “More of you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “Please… I can’t… I need you.”

His admission sent a shiver down my spine. I kissed the sensitive spot just below his ear, drawing a shaky breath from him. “You sound so pretty when you beg,” I whispered, my hand picking up its pace ever so slightly.

His entire body shuddered, and he turned his head to try to capture my lips with his own, but I pulled back just enough to keep him from reaching me. “Uh-uh, you’ve been bad, Nic,” I teased, my voice a low purr.

Nicholas let out a frustrated groan, his head dropping back against my shoulder again. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his desperation spilling over in the way his fingers gripped the counter.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice trembling and raw. “Please, I’ll be good. I just… I need you.”

I smirked, savoring the way he unraveled beneath me. “Oh, I know you’ll be good,” I replied, my voice laced with mock sweetness. My hand slowed its pace just slightly, enough to make him whimper in protest, his hips shifting to chase the friction. “Tell me how much you want it,” I demanded, tightening my grip ever so slightly. “I want to hear it, Nic.”

He let out a shaky breath, his head tilting back to rest on my shoulder as he turned to look at me, his eyes glassy and pleading. “I need you so fucking bad,” he admitted, his voice rough with vulnerability.

His words sent a jolt of satisfaction through me. I leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good,” I murmured, pulling back just enough to see the way his lips parted, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment.

“You’re so perfect like this,” I said softly, my free hand sliding up to brush through his hair again, tugging gently at the strands. “So needy. So honest.”

Nicholas let out a low moan, his body trembling under my touch. “I’ll do anything,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

I chuckled, the sound low and teasing as I tilted his head back further, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat. “You’re mine,” I murmured, pressing my lips against his skin, my hand resuming its deliberate pace. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice cracking under the weight of his need. “All yours.”

Hearing those words fall from his lips made my heart race. I pressed a kiss just below his ear, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Good boy,” I whispered, my tone both soft and commanding.

Nicholas let out a ragged moan, his body arching into the back of the stool as he surrendered completely to me. Every sound, every movement he made was for me, and I relished every second of it.

“I—” His voice cracked, his body trembling as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. “I need… I need to—please, just let me…”

I chuckled softly, tightening my grip for a moment to make him gasp. “You’re going to make a mess, aren’t you?” I teased, brushing my lips against his ear.

Nicholas let out a broken moan, his head falling back against my shoulder. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice trembling with need. “I can’t—please, I can’t hold it…”

I smirked, my hand picking up its pace just enough to push him closer to the edge. “Go ahead,” I whispered, my voice a low purr.

His entire body tensed, his hips jerking against my hand as he let out a strangled moan. His eyes squeezed shut, his breath hitching as he finally gave in. The tension in his body snapped, and a low, guttural sound escaped him as he spilled over, the warm evidence of his release landing on the script spread out on the counter.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of the rain against the windows and Nicholas’s ragged breathing as he slumped backward, his head resting against my shoulder as his lips parted.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, letting my hand linger on his waist as my other hand reached to brush my fingertip against the white ropes that landed all over the counter. I held his gaze as I brought my fingertip to my lips, letting the taste linger on my tongue. A slow, deliberate smile spread across my face as I tilted my head slightly, savoring both the flavor and the effect it had on Nicholas.

Quickly brushing my fingers through his hair, I softly asked, “How about you clean up your mess while I finish my workout, hmm?”

Nicholas let out a weak laugh, his cheeks still flushed as he tilted his head to look at me. “You really know how to humble a man,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but laced with affection.

I leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering warmth of his breath. “And you really know how to make a workout interesting,” I teased, pulling back.

Nicholas groaned softly, running a hand through his tousled hair as he sat up straighter on the stool. “I’ll clean it up,” he muttered, reaching for a nearby paper towel with a sheepish grin.

Nicholas moved with a quiet efficiency, his usual confidence tinged with an endearing embarrassment. As I settled back into my workout, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him from the corner of my eye. His shoulders were still a little tense, his cheeks still faintly pink as he wiped the counter clean with meticulous care. He avoided looking at me directly, though I could see the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

When he finally finished cleaning up, Nicholas tossed the used paper towel into the trash with a dramatic sigh of relief. Turning to lean against the counter, he folded his arms over his chest, his eyes locking onto me with a playful intensity. “You know I’m going to get you back for this, right?”

As I settled into my next stretch, I smirked up at him, “I hope you do.”

[moonstruckme]

Hey love!

Was wondering if you could write a poly!maurader x fem!reader fic where (boys being boys) they had a bet who could go longer without sex and about a week reader decided to tease them a lil bit where she would flirt or like bend over to pick up smtg.

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mature themes

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s so boy of them to discount you like this. Like, the bet had been funny at first, each of your boyfriends doing whatever they could to put the others in hot and heavy situations with you and each other, but after you and Sirius had gotten locked in a closet for the better part of an afternoon, they’d decided to take things down a notch. And as far as you’re concerned, that was when the fun part came to an end. 

The thing is, they’re guys. While they’re having their little stint of celibacy, they can at least still get themselves off. Multiple times a day, if they feel like it. It’s not that easy for you. So for you to not even have been involved in the bet, and yet be the one feeling its consequences most acutely…well, it’s beginning to grate on your nerves.

So you decide to make it fun again. 

“Oh, shit.” You say, getting James’ attention from where he’s going through the closet, trying to find a pair of pants to wear. “I dropped my wand under the bed.” 

He moves towards you. “I’ll get it for you, lovie.” 

“No, no, that’s alright.” You say, getting down on your hands and knees. “I’ve got it.” 

James falls silent as you arch your back under the pretense of reaching under the bed, letting your short skirt slip up to show the pretty, barely-there panties you’d picked out this morning. You linger for a bit longer than necessary, letting James take in the view from where he stands across from the bed. 

“Got it.” You emerge with the wand, sitting back on your legs and turning to James with a smile. 

His mouth is slightly open. He blinks, eyes dazed and pupils blown behind his lenses. “That’s, uh…” He blinks a few more times, faster. “That’s great, sweetheart. Glad you found it.” 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Gods.” Sirius nearly chokes when he sees you in the kitchen. “You’re looking nice today, angel.” 

You almost roll your eyes. You’re only wearing a tank top and underwear, but apparently that’s all it takes when your boyfriend’s been so long without any of you. Instead, you plaster on a coy smile.

“Thanks,” you say, as though you hadn’t noticed. “You look nice, too.” 

Sirius is making eyes at you as he leans his elbows on the counter. Like you’re the one who needs to worry. “Whatcha making, sweet thing?”

“Chocolate mousse. I’m just working on melting the chocolate right now.” You dip your forefinger into the warm, gooey liquid, bringing it to your mouth and sucking the chocolate off. You keep your eyes on Sirius’, so you can see the exact moment when his darken. “Mmm, want to try?” 

Sirius swallows. “Huh?”

You don’t bother looking innocuous, letting your eyes go droopy and suggestive in the way you know how. “I said, do you want some?” 

He’s silent for so long you think he might ask you to repeat yourself again, but then he clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, no—no thanks, doll. I’m good.” 

You pout. “It’s really good, though. Here, have a taste.” You cross the few steps between you and kiss him. 

Sirius takes a second to kiss you back, but when he does it’s so wanting that you don’t even have to be sneaky about winding one of your hands into his hair while using the other to bring his to your ass. He squeezes, and you moan into his mouth, grinding your hips into his just slightly. 

Sirius gasps, breaking away. He takes one step back, then another, putting distance between you as he tries to blink the glaze from his eyes. “Minx,” he whispers accusingly, and flees the kitchen. 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Thanks, baby.” You bat your eyelashes up at Remus as he brings you a glass of water from the kitchen. 

He lets out a low chuckle. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you hum. 

Remus gives you a deadpan look, but there’s a glint of amusement in his amber eyes. “Earlier this morning, I went into our bedroom to find James, pantsless, with a hard-on.” It takes every ounce of control you have not to grin, but Remus quirks a brow like you have anyway. “And then a little while ago, Sirius came running out of the kitchen like something was chasing him, and he could barely speak. You didn’t have anything to do with that, dovey?” 

You let your eyes go wide and innocent as you shake your head. “Maybe they’re just getting sick of your competition.” 

“Mm, unlikely,” Remus hums, and his surety of his own willpower only worsens your determination to make him falter. “But if that’s the story you want to stick with, that’s fine.” 

You frown at him, the glass of water slippery with condensation in your palm. “Well, I—oh, damn!” you tip the glass of water into Remus’ lap, soaking his pants. He freezes, gasping at the cold. “I’m so sorry, honey. Here, let me help.” Luckily for you, you’d (completely coincidentally, of course) left a tea towel nearby earlier. You take it, blotting at Remus’ crotch with touches that start urgent but become lingering as you go on. After a minute, there’s really nothing left to sop up, and Remus hands are laid flat on the couch, every inch of him tense as you dab at his bulge with slow, tantalizing touches. 

When he speaks, his voice is low, gravelly. “You’re a lot more conniving than we give you credit for, you know that?”

You let your lips curl into a smile, leaving your hand to rest on his crotch. “I know.” 

Remus tips his head back, letting his eyes slip closed as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Fuck it.” 

You blink. “Huh?”

In the next second, Remus is gripping your hips and hoisting you up against him, your chest pressed to his. You inhale sharply as he stands, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he’s kissing at your throat, master of multitasking while he carries you into the bedroom. 

He nips at your jaw, and you giggle deliriously. “I won?” you ask, hardly believing it. Of all your boyfriends, you thought Remus had the least chance of breaking down before the others. 

His chuckle reverberates through you, and warmth flares in your core in response. “Sure you did, sweetheart. Though I think by the time we’re done here, who exactly won will be a bit more debatable.”

[lovebugism]

smut?? i’ve been thinking about this for awhile… drunk steve and drunk you have sex and it’s all mushy and giggly and you’re slamming into things and knocking shit down but you don’t care because you’re drunk and in love

thanks for your request angel!! — the one where steve fucks you in eddie munson's bathroom (established relationship, smut, 18+ mdni, 1.9k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

A drunk giggle spills from your swollen mouth as Steve ushers you into Eddie Munson’s bathroom. 

It’s barely big enough for one person — let alone two — but you’re pressed too intently together for it to matter much. You stumble inside, making out like teenagers, and only stilling when your back meets the counter’s edge.

You’re smiling too big for Steve to kiss you as ardently as he wants to. His rosy mouth trails down your neck instead. He sprinkles sloppy, wet kisses along the warmed skin there — you taste like moonlight, summer air, and floral perfume.

You laugh louder when his large palms manhandle you to the countertop, ushering you further backward until you’re sitting pretty on the white laminate. The heavenly sound of your giggle is mixed with the harsh clattering of soap, aftershave, and hairspray. Some of it falls next to you, others hit the floor.

“Steve!” you protest, louder than you mean to. The beer numbing your mouth has also loosened your tongue, it seems.

Undeterred by the mess, the boy keeps on kissing you. He suckles just below your jaw, licking at your pulse point until you make a pretty noise for him. A smack fills the tiny bathroom when he parts from you. 

His smile is crooked, and his eyes twinkle with alcohol and adoration. “It’s okay, babe— don’t worry about it.”

Even though you’re still distantly worried about the havoc you’re wreaking in the Munson trailer, you have half a mind to believe him.

Everyone else was too busy getting drunk by the lake — because if Eddie Munson graduating wasn’t a cause to get shitfaced, you didn’t know what was. Steve had pulled you away with the excuse of raiding the kitchen for food. It wasn’t the strangest excuse in the world. The munchies often hit him hard after the first joint. Everybody was too drunk, too high, or too absorbed in conversation to care.

With Wayne having departed to work the wretched graveyard shift and the younger kids having long gone home, it left you and Steve with an empty trailer and unkissed mouths. 

Both were very easily filled.

You’re hoping you will be, too.

Steve’s mouth engulfs your own again. His tongue swipes against yours with a newfound vigor, tasting vaguely of Budweiser and peppermint. Your fingers twist in his honey-colored locks as he kisses the breath from your lungs. 

Your sigh fans against his cupid’s bow when his fingers sneak beneath the hem of your skirt. They’re long and warm creeping between your thighs — you part him instinctually. A whimper sounds from within your throat when the tips of them drag gently across your clothed cunt. His smile curls against your mouth when he feels the wet patch dampening the cotton.

Your lips click when he parts from you. You mourn the taste of him, though your grief quickly ebbs when his fingers pull your panties to the side. The pad of his thumb presses between your velvet lips in search of your clit. He finds it almost instantly, smirking when your thighs clench around his wrist.

“There?” he questions anyway, thumbing more intently at the sensitive button until you keen.

“Yes,” you moan in the affirmative — louder when he slips a finger into you. His pointer finger slides in with little effort from all the honey you leak for him. His middle finger slithers in next to it just the same.

Steve kisses you again, a bit rough in his drunken state. The sudden force of his adoration knocks you slightly backwards. Your shoulders collide with the poorly hung mirror behind you. It bangs against the drywall and jostles the bottles on the surrounding shelves. A few of them fall like rain around you. A small container of baby powder tumbles to the counter and then to the floor with a dense thud. 

You gasp against Steve’s mouth when white dust bursts from the cap.

“Steve!” you exclaim again, not laughing as you part from him this time.

His brows scrunch as he shakes his head, lazy and uncaring. “It’s okay—”

“Eddie’s gonna get mad!”

Steve groans. His scruffy features scruff in contempt as he pouts. “Can we please not talk about another guy while my fingers are inside you, babe? I’m beggin’.”

A smile tugs at your buzzing lips. A giggle spills from them before you can stop it. “Sorry, Stevie…”

His mouth finds your neck again. He sprinkles sloppy kisses there, occasionally nipping at the thrumming tendons. Spurred on by your pretty whimpered moans, he crooks his fingers within your pulsating walls until his forearm starts to burn.

“Missed you,” he mumbles into your burning skin.

“I’ve been with you all night,” you retort with a soft laugh. It turns into a moan when he rolls your clit with the pad of his thumb. The hand not entwined in his hair, clutches his flexed bicep.

“Yeah, but it’s been, like, forever since I’ve gotten to touch you.”

Your grin widens even though he can’t see it with his face pressed so intently in your neck. 

He’s good at making the small things feel more dramatic than they really are — like going a couple of days without fucking you, for example. You laugh about it, but you don’t realize how much you’ve missed him back until he’s touching you all over.

“It’s been four days—  if that.”

“Exactly,” he hums as he parts from you. The muscles of his toned arm tense as he braces himself along the counter. His other arm continues to pleasure you, wrist twisting to find the spot that makes you keen.

“I’ve been neglecting you, huh?” he lilts in a murmur. 

Your gaze goes lidded, heavy with pleasure, as his fingers push further into you. You try your best to keep his stare. His clenched jaw, strong nose, and chocolate eyes are too pretty to look away from. 

“I can tell. Your pussy’s fucking drooling for me, baby.”

A moan spills from your mouth at his wicked words — louder when his fingers hit a spot inside you that feels like a lightning strike down your spine. Your neck tenses as you toss your head back. 

“Please, fuck me,” you beg in an unabashed whine.

And who was Steve to deny his best girl of anything?

He slips his fingers from your cunt, though your walls threaten to suckle him back in. 

You pout at the emptiness — brows furrowed, nose softly scrunched, and lips jutted out. Steve chuckles at the sulking expression on your pretty face while his hands make quick work of his belt.

His cock is hard and aching when he frees it from the confines of his briefs. He jerks it in his fist, visibly heavy in his hand. Your mouth drools at the sight of it, flushed red at the tip and leaking pearly white pre-cum. 

You’d beg for a taste of him if you weren’t so painfully needy.

You lean against the mirror again, more gently this time. Steve’s arm sits just over your shoulder as he braces his hand against the glass. Before you have time to complain about the print he’s definitely smudging there, the bulbous tip of his cock drags up and down your satiny cunt. The slick you pool for him allows him to effortlessly sink into you. 

His cock pushes through your pulsating walls, inch by relentless inch. A moan spills from your open mouth, a delicate sound that entwines with the hearty groan that spills from Steve’s throat. He doesn’t still until his hips are wedged firmly against yours.

The small bathroom of a trailer that belonged to neither of you quickly fills with whimpers, moans, and whispered pleas.

The sting and drag of his cock in your quivering hole drives you wild. Tongue slackened with alcohol, you whine as you babble — “It’s so good. You’re so good to me, Stevie. Fucking me so good.” Your legs wrap around his hips to press him closer to you, even though you’re not entirely sure you could take much more in your sensitive state. 

“Gimme all of it, baby,” you slur anyway. “I want all of it.”

Needing you too badly to fuck you as slow as he usually likes to, he holds your thigh over his hip with one hand and braces his other over your shoulder — fucking you for all your worth on Eddie’s bathroom sink. 

His merciless cock punches into you. Between his measured thrusts, he grumbles. “Take it then, baby— fucking take it. ’S yours. All of it.”

He says it because he means it, but also because he knows how much you like it. Steve loves how much you love hearing his little reassurances. He needs them too sometimes — most times. 

The lewd nature of his innocent promises makes your cunt clench around him.

“Mine,” you whimper when your orgasm creeps up your spine. Your swollen clit meets the base of his cock with each of his thrusts, rubbing against the coarse thatch of pubic hair there. It burns, deliciously so, and makes you keen for him. You keep on babbling. 

“’S my cock, Stevie. Mine— oh, fuck—”

You grow impossibly wetter. The slap of his heavy balls against your silk pussy sounds within the tiny room in time with the subtle banging of the mirror behind you. You’re lucky the rest of the group was outside. Neither of you could be quiet if you tried.

Your words make him buckle down over you. Honey-colored tendrils fall over his forehead as he leans over you to devour your mouth. His broad body cages you against the counter while he punches deeper and deeper inside you. 

Your lips slide together in a sloppy, needy mess. You cling desperately to his t-shirt, right where his back flexes, as you climb your peak.

“Come inside me,” you plead against his mouth, over the sound of your bodies slapping together. “Please, come inside me. I need it, Stevie. Need it so fucking bad.”

Steve whines a broken moan when he parts from you. He fucks into you harder, a relentless pace that sends burning embers prickling at your sensitive clit. He rambles as he races towards his own orgasm.

“‘M gonna give it to you, baby,” he promises through labored pants. “I’m gonna— fuck— I’m gonna give you all my cum. Gonna give my girl all my fucking cum—”

Neither of you last more than ten seconds after that. 

Steve comes first. 

The feeling of his cock spitting several warm loads into your welcoming pussy was enough to make you burst seconds after. 

His body leans heavily against your own as he comes down, unintentionally pinning you as you twitch through the aftershocks of your head-spinning orgasm.

The bathroom — much messier than it had been when you first stumbled in — fills with the sounds of labored breaths and smacking kisses.

Steve’s lips dance across cheek, jaw, and neck while you whine through your slowly ebbing high. You’re jolted from the post-coital haze at the distant sound of the trailer door clicking open and shut again. 

The two of you tense instantaneously.

“Shit,” Steve huffs breathlessly. “We need to get back out there.”

He makes no attempt to move off of you, though. Your cunt warms his softening cock too sweetly for him to ever want to leave it. Not that he could just yet, anyway. His limbs feel too much like jello for that now.

With wide eyes, still bleary with honey, you blink up at him. “Do you think they heard?”

“Of course, I did!” Robin suddenly grouses from the other side of the door. It doesn’t sound like she’s standing at the entrance, though. Her muffled voice comes slightly lower, as though she were sitting right next to it. “You two are the loudest people on planet Earth! I’ve been waiting to use the bathroom for five whole minutes— so if I pee my pants, you two are to blame!”

[yestrnight]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ WANT U SO BAD, MISTER !

FROM : gepard / fem! reader

SUBJECT : it's immoral to want a sweet little thing like you, especially when he's well into his 30s and you're still a youngling in your 20s. but should he really feel guilty, when you want him just as bad?

( hopefully this is a bit more tame than my other works; age gap; pússy rubbing; gepard feels guilty; dubcon turned consensual )

gepard knows you’re a sweet thing. when he walks into serval’s workshop for his visits, you always greet him with a smile so sunny it could combat the eternal freeze. you’d drop the little machine you were tinkering with and head into the back to pull out a tray of desserts you’ve baked and trot right over to him. they’re originally for serval, who’d usually become too immersed in her work to remember to eat. but you are ever the dutiful assistant, looking after her whilst picking up some of the more trivial machinery to fix.

when he picks up a still warm cookie, he thanks you. his eyes linger a bit too long on your back when you run off to where you originally were.

serval leans over the counter with a shit-eating smile, chomping into a cookie. “oh, my cute lil brother,” she laughs. “you’ve got a decade on the kid. does the righteous captain of the silvermane guards really wanna go down that alley?”

the next time he comes over, serval is nowhere to be seen. you occupy her usual place at the counter, tongue peeking out from the side of your mouth as you focus on picking apart a faulty machine. you barely hear the chiming of the bell when he comes in, and only come to your senses when his broad shadow looms over you.

“oh, dear!” you gasp, pulling up your goggles. “i am so sorry mister gepard. i didn’t hear you come in.”

something about being alone with you without his nosy older sister in sight makes him even more awkward and nervous. “that’s alright,” he coughs. “where is serval, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“she was called in by the supreme guardian to discuss some internal repairs to qlipoth forth’s security devices.” you quickly sweep off the machine parts off the counter and smile up at him, to which his heart skips a beat. “sit, sit! i baked a fresh new batch of pastries in the back. i’ll bring it right out.”

so when he does take a seat and see you scamper off to the kitchen, he is left alone with the silence and his thoughts… of you, and those particularly nice tights you’re wearing. young belobogians often have their fashionable trends to combat the cold, but he wonders how warm those tights might be if they’re so thin they show off those pretty legs of yours.

white lace patterned in seductive heart patterns, teasing his eyes with the smooth skin beneath them. where those pretty tights end, they dig into your skin and emphasize the softness of it. he buries his face into his hand as he thinks of squeezing and grabbing them, trailing kisses up them till he—

“mister gepard?” your worried face suddenly appears in front of him. “oh no, did i turn the heater up too high? ah, i’ll fix it right now!”

“n-no, it’s fine, [your name],” he grabs your wrist, still blushing. “it’s not hot, really. just that…” his eyes wander into the plush skin between your shorts and tights, before he catches himself and forces to make eye contact with you. “nothing… it’s nothing. i… really should be going now.”

“even when i have something for you to eat?” you pout. “please stay for a little while, mister gepard.”

“angh… [your name], please, this isn’t appropriate…!”

“what’s wrong, mister gepard sir?” your face bearing the innocence of an angel, you cock your head at him as if you’re not milking his cock dry. through your panties (blue and white stripes, gepard’s mind unnecessarily observes, and he blushes) your pussy lips hug his throbbing cock between them, and you let out a keen moan when his fat head grinds against your clit. “but you looked so hungry! i thought maybe i’d let your friend have a taste.”

his big hands clench the sheets behind them, trying to stop himself from grabbing your hips. he grits his teeth and he looks up at you with a desperate pleading look. “please, dear,” he near begs. “you shouldn’t be doing this with a man my age.”

he’s in the early stages of his 30s, you’re barely 20. he’s lived an entire decade more than you, have touched and broken the hearts of women older than you, have tasted and succumbed to the pleasure of bodily desire more than you have— gepard can imagine that you barely had your first kiss. it’s like he’s taking advantage of you, even when you’re the one who unbuttoned his pants and pulled his erection out of them. he doesn’t want this, doesn’t like this— even when his breath goes ragged at the heat of your warm pussy.

“but!” you pout, and you squelch your cunt against an angry vein running along the side of his dick. you’re so fucking wet, it’s unimaginable. are all young pussies like this, or do you just want him that bad? he throws his head back when you drip all over him. “i’ve always admired you, mister gepard. you’re so handsome and gentlemanly, and then i catch you looking at me like that. don’t you think it’s unfair for you to reject me like that?”

“i—! a-ah…?!” a sharp moan comes out from him when you thumb the slit of his dick. “it’s no good for someone like me to… ngh… to chase after you. it’s— it’s wrong!” his protests barely reach you as you marvel at the heat in your palm. it’s sooo big, and your thumb and index finger can only slightly touch each other. you drag your throbbing cunny again, making sure to coat the entire length in your own slick. gepard whimpers with every drag, eyes peeking out from behind his hands as he watches you debauch your body with his perverted length. it’s disgusting, he shouldn’t be doing this to you–!

you can barely control yourself as you sit back and admire his cock, shiny with your slick and throbbing needily. a gentle graze of your finger already has it twitching like mad.

“poor thing…” you say in pity. “looks like you need a loooot of help, mister gepard.” 

“please, [your name], dear.” he sounds breathless as he begs you not to do this to yourself. his heart beats louder and louder as he watches you prop yourself up with a cunning smile, and tease your hole with his leaky tip. you grab onto his chest for support, looking down at him like an angel-turned-devil.

“this is my thanks for protecting us from the eternal freeze~” no no no no, the tip of his length is sinking into you, and the pulse of your warm pussy is making him lose his mind by the second. his thighs are shaking as he controls himself to not plunge it all in. you’re not a monster, gepard, he scolds himself. just tell them to stop. they’re a sweet kid, they’ll un–

“f– fuck!”  gepard yells out when you sink onto the rest of his length, and his back is arched while you smile in ecstasy after finally taking the whole thing. “[y - your name]...! you…!”

licking your lips, your hand trails down to your stretched out cunny, spreading your legs as you show off the pussy lips that have taken in his dick. it’s a perverse, filthy sight. it’s exactly the kind of thing the landaus have taught him not to fallen prey to. he was to marry a gentlewoman, of proper breeding, and make love to her in a noble and loving way.

but here he is, breath cut short as he stares wide-eyed at you. you and your pussy dripping around his throbbing length, hands stretching your lips so you can show it all off and remind him just how much he’s fallen.

and with the way you look at him, he thinks he was wrong in even thinking you were ever a good kid.

[lemoncrushh]

Rain Rain

Summary: Lexie is on her way to visit her sister, and she's taking Harry on the road trip with her, planning to drop him off at his friend's house for a wedding. But the weather has other plans.

Warnings: Not much - this is pretty much fluff with just a little petting and making out.

Word Count: 11k+

A/N: This is your basic "friends with one bed" trope. Harry x Bi!OC, AU, written in third person. Originally written and posted in 2019. This was based on a request I had gotten back then (which I still had copied into my docs): no worries if you’re not down to write about this, but it would be amazing if you wrote about someone who is mostly into women but just has this love for harry like no other. (maybe smutty idk) Thank you to that original anon wherever they are now! This ended up being three short parts, but I've combined them into one.

The rain was pouring so hard and so fast, the pavement was nothing but a blur as Lexie gazed out the window at the parking lot. She was grateful she’d remembered her raincoat, but cursed herself for not bringing along her boots. Her sneakers were bound to be a saturated, wet mess even after the short jog from the car. She could feel her bare toes curling against the rubber soles, and with a bitter scowl she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat.

“Lex?”

“Hmm?” she turned her head in slow motion to see Harry looking at her with a raised brow.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

Lexie nodded, giving a hesitant grin. “‘s fine. No worries.”

With a short nod to the man behind the counter, Harry took the room key and covered his head with the hood of his jacket. Pushing the door open, he grunted at the volume of the rain, both the noise and the amount, allowing Lexie to exit the lobby first.

“I can’t believe they only had one room,” he grumbled as she passed.

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” Lexie assured him. “We save money this way anyhow.”

Harry lifted his head to check that she was smiling, her nearly ever-present grin lighting her face, even on a full shit day such as this. He grinned back, making his way down the sidewalk to the last room on the left. Rain seemed to pelt against them sideways despite the awning above their heads.

“Jesus, it’s cold though,” Harry heard Lexie mutter as she bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for Harry to unlock the door.

Sliding the key into the slot, the light flickered green and Harry pushed the door open. Rushing inside, Lexie pushed her hood off her face and took a gander around the room.

“Not too bad,” she appraised, sitting on the bed and kicking off her wet shoes.

“I’ll go get the bags,” offered Harry.

“Oh shit, I forgot!” exclaimed Lexie. “Let me put my sneakers back on.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Harry waved his hand. “Sit, relax, get warm. I’ll just be a second.”

Lexie made a face, but reluctantly took off her raincoat and sat back on the bed, watching Harry make a run for it. She could see him out the window, opening the trunk of her car to retrieve their luggage, laughing to herself as she recalled how he’d called it a boot when they’d packed it.

The trip was supposed to have been a short one. So far it was twice as long as it should have been, nothing but a string of disaster after disaster. They were way behind schedule. But if Lex was being honest, she didn’t mind. Harry had proven to be a great travel companion, entertaining her jokes and chipping in some doozies of his own. When they’d gotten a flat tire, she’d helped him change it and then bought him breakfast. When Shelby had called her cell unexpectedly, and she’d panicked, Harry had covered for her, saying she was driving and couldn’t stop to talk.

“Safety first,” he’d said, even though she had bluetooth in her car.

Rising from the bed, Lexie held the door open for Harry as he ran back inside, a bag on each shoulder. Dropping them down beside the television with a huff, he finally got his own look at the room.

“Sorry about the one bed,” he sighed, unsure how Lexie felt about having to share it. “I’ll take the floor.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry, it’s a King! And should you really be offering that with your terrible back? I won’t have you complain for the rest of the trip.”

With a chuckle, Harry unzipped his hoodie and shrugged out of it, tossing it on the nearby chair. Fingers ran through his damp curls as he stepped out of his shoes and placed them next to the door. Unzipping his duffle bag, he pulled out some dry clothes.

“Mind if I shower?” he asked, pointing to the bathroom. “Unless you were…”

“No, it’s fine,” replied Lexie, grabbing the remote. “You go. I’ll watch some TV and see how this storm’s doing.”

“No calling Shelby, right?” Harry raised a brow.

Lexie scoffed. “No! We talked about this.”

“Alright. Just making sure. I mean, I can’t tell you what to do, but if it were me…”

“Harry!” exclaimed Lexie. “Go! I’m fine, I swear. I’m not calling her.”

“Or texting.”

“Or texting!”

With a smirk, Harry turned for the bathroom and shut the door. Lexie turned on the television, finding the local weather. No surprise there was a big storm in their area, possible hurricane and flood warnings.

“No shit,” she muttered under her breath.

She was bummed she wouldn’t be at her sister’s tomorrow afternoon, but she wasn’t really in a huge hurry either. It was Harry she was more concerned about. He was supposed to be at his friend’s on Saturday for a wedding and Lexie was dropping him off on the way. If this storm kept up and they got stranded, they might not make it in time.

Getting bored with the newscasters, Lexie reached for her phone. She stared at it for a few minutes, reading the last text from her ex-girlfriend. Her fingertip ghosted over her name as she contemplated texting her back. The sound of thunder made her jump, however, and with a grumble she took it as a warning, just like she knew Harry would have done.

Setting her phone next to her, she scooted back on the bed and leaned against the headboard. She heard the squeaky turn of a faucet and the shower stopped. Moments later, Harry emerged, his hair sticking out in pieces around his head from towel drying it. Lexie couldn’t help staring at him, though she didn’t realize she was until Harry caught her in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows. She swiftly turned her attention back to the TV where the news was on some story about a robbery at a local convenience store. She could hear Harry brush his teeth and spit in the sink before he turned for the bed.

“So how’s it looking?” he asked as he climbed onto the bed next to her.

“Huh?” Lexie half-gasped.

Harry chuckled. “The weather. How’s it look for us the rest of the night?”

“Oh. Um...possible flooding they said. Hurricane conditions.”

“Bugger,” Harry muttered as he settled himself against the pillow. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get back on the road in the morning.”

“Fingers crossed,” said Lexie, crossing her hands over her stomach.

The news broke for commercial, but Lexie remained focused on the television. Her hand itched to reach for her phone, but she resisted. Her nose had suddenly made her hyper aware of her sense of smell as she inhaled the scent of soap, shampoo and something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Harry smelled so good lying beside her, it made her mouth water. Her stomach did some weird flip, her face was warm to the touch, and she tried to put her focus on the 1-800 numbers flashing on the screen as she wondered from where on earth this feeling had emerged.

The truth was, Lexie had been attracted to Harry since the day they’d met. They’d had a few mutual friends, one of which had introduced them at a party for another. And while Lexie considered herself bisexual, she had almost exclusively been dating women for the last few years. In fact, she had just begun a serious relationship with Shelby when she’d met Harry at that party. They’d become fast friends which she was fine with, but she couldn’t deny there was some sort of spark there, at least from her point of view.

The sound of a hearty laugh made her turn her head abruptly, but she realized Harry was giggling at the trailer for a new comedy. Lexie watched his face for a moment, the way his eyes squinted when he laughed, the deep dimple in his left cheek. These were just a couple of things that she liked about him, though she could probably make a long list.

Seemingly aware of her stare, Harry mimicked her gaze, his eyes twinkling. Lexie smiled at him, trying to come off as casual and not like a staring buffoon.

“Are you gonna go?” Harry inquired.

“Huh?”

“The shower, love,” he explained. “Thought you were gonna go next.”

“Oh,” Lexie blushed. “Of course.”

Rising from the bed, she grabbed her phone before it slid off. Harry, however, was quick too and reached for it.

“Nope. Not bringing that with you.”

“Fine,” Lexie rolled her eyes. “Wasn’t gonna look at it anyway.”

Harry smirked as Lexie rummaged through her suitcase for something to sleep in, then stuck out her tongue before closing the bathroom door, making Harry giggle again.

Lexie let the hot water soothe her muscles as she stood under the stream. She hadn’t realized she’d been so tense, but she blamed it on the weather and Shelby’s texts. Her ex wanted to get back together, it was obvious, though she hadn’t said it directly. But Lexie knew it was over. It had been over long before they’d actually broken up. Still, she couldn’t deny that she missed her.

Lexie thought about the phone call in the car when Harry had answered her cell. Afterwards he and Lex had a deep, albeit short conversation about relationships and how sometimes things quit working because you’ve run out of road.

“You’ve just reached a dead end,” he’d said. “And that’s when you know it’s time to say goodbye, let it go and travel down a new path.”

Though she knew he was right, Lexie was hesitant about taking that detour.

As she shut off the water and grabbed a towel, she could hear singing. She grinned when she realized it was Harry in the other room singing along to a commercial. She giggled to herself as she got dressed, finding herself humming the tune as well. Harry was a joy to be around. He made every situation bearable, no matter the circumstances. Perhaps, she considered, her attraction to him was merely his light that shone from within, and not anything sexual. When she emerged from the bathroom, however, and found him sprawled out on the bed in a simple t-shirt and sweats, one arm behind his head as the glow from the television defined the lines and curves of his face, she dismissed that notion.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath before crossing the room to her suitcase.

“What’s wrong?” Harry inquired, his eyes following her. He watched her pull out a small pouch from her bag and return to the vanity.

“Nothing,” she lied, taking out her toothbrush. “That thunder just...doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah, I think it’s getting closer than further away,” Harry commented, shifting onto his side to face Lexie while she brushed her teeth. Resting his head in his hand, his gaze roamed down her body as he noticed her sleeping attire.

“Those are cute,” he said, not meaning to. It just slipped.

“Wha’?” she sounded, her mouth full of toothpaste. Spitting into the sink, she eyed him in the mirror. “What’d you say?”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I just...I like those pajamas. They’re cute.”

“Oh,” Lexie blushed. “They’re old. But thanks.”

She couldn’t think of any other reply. He liked her old, worn out flannel pajamas? She’d had them since before Shel-

Clearing her throat, she ran a brush through her hair before making her way back to the bed. She could feel Harry’s eyes on her as she climbed in beside him again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” she asked, her gaze on the TV.

“Yeah, I was gonna ask you that,” Harry replied. “Unless you’re too tired.”

“I’m not really ready for sleep yet. What is there to watch?”

“Actually, not much. Most anything I found worthwhile is halfway over and has commercials. And I don’t reckon we wanna pay for something, especially if we end up losing power.”

Just as he said the last sentence, another crack of thunder sounded and made Lexie jump.

“Um…” she muttered with a grimace, “maybe we should just pick whatever’s on and hope for the best.”

With an easy grin, Harry rose from the bed.

“While you decide, I’m gonna go get some ice and a few things from the machines, if there is any. What would you like?”

“I'd like you to stay here with me,” she blurted without thinking.

Harry’s smile grew wider as he slipped back into his jacket. Lexie bit her lip as she felt herself blush for the second time.

“I won’t be gone long,” Harry offered.

“But I just brushed my teeth.”

Harry chuckled. “Then brush ‘em again. You know you want snacks, I can see the look in your eyes.”

“Yeah,” muttered Lexie. “I guess I do.”

“Plus if we end up stranded, you’re not eating my leg.”

Lexie burst out laughing. “Good thinking. I’ll take some potato chips and any kind of cookies they’ve got.”

“Soda?”

“Juice if they have it. If not, something without caffeine. Do you need money?”

“Nah, I got it,” Harry said, grabbing the ice bucket. “Be back in a second.”

Lexie sat back on the bed and flipped through the channels before landing on a Spiderman movie. She’d forgotten if she’d seen that one before or not, but it didn’t really matter. It was more for a distraction anyway, from both the booming thunder outside and the thumping of her heart inside her chest.

Harry rushed back into the room in record time, his hands full. Dropping several items onto the bed, he left again only to return seconds later with the ice bucket. Lexie watched as the door shut behind him and he pushed his hood back, revealing his damp curls.

“Were the vending machines not covered?” Lexie asked, grabbing one of the Sprite bottles Harry had brought.

“They were, but the water was dripping between the slats right above them, so I got a bit wet. No worries, though.”

“Harry, why is nothing a big worry to you?” Lexie eyed him as she took a sip of soda.

Harry shrugged as he returned his jacket to the chair and kicked off his shoes.

“Pick my battles,” he explained. “We got food, drinks and ice. Mission accomplished. A little rain didn’t stop me.”

“A little rain?” Lexie scoffed. “Sometimes you’re just a little too Mary Sunshine.”

Harry looked at her as he sat next to her on the bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I stepped in a puddle and nearly hit my head on a metal beam when I heard the thunder?”

Lexie smiled. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Reaching for a bag of Lay’s, she could feel his eyes on her. Finally when she bit into a chip, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re one to talk.”

“What?” Lexie raised a brow.

“Mary Sunshine.”

“Excuse me, I am not Mary Sunshine.”

“Yeah, you are,” said Harry. “You were totally cool with taking me along on this trip. You were fine with us sharing a room here, even just the one bed. Right now, you seem perfectly fine with that soda instead of the juice you’d really wanted. Honestly, you’ve barely even said one negative thing the entire time. Except maybe regarding Shelby, and even that you seem to be taking in stride.”

Lexie considered his words for a moment before giving a shrug. “Maybe I pick my battles, too.”

“Fair enough.”

Taking another swig from her Sprite bottle, she looked down at her lap. “It might have something to do with present company, too,” she said softly.

Harry turned his head and looked at her, his eyes seeming to study her face, hoping she’d expand on her admission.

“You’re easy to be with,” she added. “You don’t judge me and you’re considerate and nice and...I dunno, I just like that about you. Rubs off on me, I suppose.”

Harry continued to look at her as she ate her potato chips, her eyes on the television.

“Oh,” he finally managed to voice. “That’s...really lovely, Lex. Thank you.”

Lexie gave him a soft, short smile before biting into another chip. The two of them ate and watched the movie in silence for a while, until the next commercial break. When Lexie rose from the bed to shake off the crumbs and throw away her trash, she heard Harry speak again.

“I like that about you, too, you know?”

“What?” she raised a brow.

“I like that you’re easy to be with. Fun, actually. You don’t complain a lot, and you almost always have a smile on your face.”

Lexie tried to hide her current smile but failed.

“I’m not sure that last part is true,” she commented.

“Oh, it definitely is,” said Harry. “I just noticed it earlier. I know you’re...still getting over...um...someone...but you still seem happy.”

“That’s a facade,” Lexie confessed. “Inside I’m a mess.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Lexie eyed Harry with a smirk. “I guess I just did.”

Softening his expression, Harry nodded. “‘m sorry. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Harry studied Lexie’s face for a moment, wondering if she would change her mind. But when she didn’t, he knew not to push her. “Okay.”

Lying back on his pillow, he folded an arm behind his head. Something about his relaxed state made her want to cuddle with him and tell him all her problems. Shaking away the thought, Lexie lied back too, her eyes on the TV.

“I think we just grew apart,” she finally muttered.

“What?” Harry turned his head to look at her.

“Shelby and me,” she explained. “We just...got too comfortable, I guess? If that makes sense. It became boring. And when I get bored, I start to get restless.”

“I think that makes sense,” Harry commented. “You can only spread yourself so far.”

“Exactly!” Lexie nodded. She rolled onto her side, facing Harry. He blinked at her nearness, her wide-eyed expression.

“Like I’m willing to give myself to somebody, everything I have. When I love someone, they’re my world. But after a while it felt kind of one-sided.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again. “How did Shelby feel about it?”

Lexie shrugged. “We would just end up arguing when I brought it up. She said she wasn’t like me, that she needs her space and time separate from me. I told her I understood that, but I still needed her to meet me in the middle once in a while.”

“And maybe more?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?”

This time, Harry turned onto his side, so he was face to face with Lexie. “Maybe sometimes you needed her to make the full effort like you were doing, so you didn’t have to meet her in the middle at all.”

Harry watched Lexie’s eyelashes flutter rapidly until a tiny drop fell down her cheek. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to brush it away with his thumb.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered.

Lexie shook her head, then reached her hand up and grasped Harry’s wrist. “No. You’re absolutely right. How did you know?”

Harry shrugged. “‘s not hard to figure out, Lex. You’ve worn yourself thin.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t try,” she choked.

“I know.”

“I loved her.”

“Course you did. Maybe you still do?” Harry lowered his hand, releasing it from her grip.

Lexie pursed her lips. “I dunno. I guess I’ll always love her in some way. But I think the real love was gone a long time ago.”

“You think she feels the same?” Harry asked.

“Well...she was angry when we broke up. But now she says she wants to get back together.”

“What do you want?”

Lexie sighed, running a hand through her hair as her eyes darted around the room. “I guess...I dunno I just don’t think she can change. She’s just...she’s probably gonna keep calling me…”

Harry stopped her by taking her hand, making her look at him again. “That’s not what I asked, Lex. What do you want?”

Lexie opened her mouth to speak but shut it quickly. Then biting her lip, she really considered Harry’s question.

“I just want to move on, to be honest,” she finally admitted.

“Then move on.”

A loud boom of thunder sounded then, once again timely as though it punctuated Harry’s words. Neither of them, however even made a move. They lay facing each other in silence, the movie credits scrolling up the ignored television screen.

Butterflies danced in Lexie’s stomach as she stared at Harry, his green eyes seeming to say unspoken words. Though she wasn’t quite sure what those words were, she had an idea. Swallowing hard, she loosened her hand from his grip only to thread her fingers with his. Harry dropped his gaze to their joined hands before his eyes darted back up to her face, landing on her mouth. Instinctively, Lexie licked her lips and in one split second, she felt Harry’s lips pressed against them.

They were so soft. That was the first thought that crossed her mind. The second was that she hoped he didn’t stop any time soon.

Thunder cracked once again as Harry released Lexie’s hand to cup her cheek. She sighed against his mouth, and that was enough for him to know it was okay to deepen the kiss. Lexie opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to meet hers. She felt something then - something more than just arousal.

Rain continued to pelt against the roof and the window, the sound so loud, one would think the glass might break and water would rush in. But at that moment, Lexie heard nothing but the beating of her own heart in her chest.

Harry shifted slightly then, resting his leg between hers as he laid on top of her. Their kisses became intense, an apparent hunger as though they couldn’t get enough. Lexie’s hands found the back of Harry’s jeans, her fingers looping into his belt at his waistband. She held on for a few moments as his hips began to buck against hers, causing a friction that drove her mad. When his lips finally left hers and dragged across her jaw, she gasped for air.

“Ha-harry…” she sounded. Swallowing hard, she blinked to get her bearings. “Harry.”

Lifting his head, he looked at her face, her eyes reading uncertainty.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Jesus, Lex, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“No,” Lexie interrupted. “Don’t. Don’t be sorry.” She shook her head. “About anything.”

“Really? Then why…”

“It’s just…” she licked her lips. “I’ve never...been with a guy...before…”

Harry’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, but Lexie pulled him back.

“I mean...not like this. I’ve dated men. Well...boys really,” she chuckled nervously. “But it’s been a while.”

“But have you…”

Lexie shut her eyes and shook her head. She heard Harry sigh and felt his body relax against hers. She felt a flutter in her chest at the idea that he hadn’t moved off of her. She liked the feeling of his body against hers. When she opened her eyes, she saw him eyeing her, his expression sweet and calm.

“I don’t wanna make you do something you’ll regret, Lex,” he said. “But you should know, I didn’t tell you to move on in hopes that you’ll sleep with me.”

Lexie giggled. “But I am sleeping with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Lexie said softly. “I also know I like you.”

Harry’s smile grew as he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You do?”

“Mhmm,” Lexie nodded. “The truth?”

Harry raised a brow as Lex grazed her fingertips across his back. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever had these kinds of feelings about.”

“What kind of feelings?” he whispered.

“You know…” Lexie hesitated. “Feelings like...I think you’re incredible and sweet. And I want to touch you. And I want you to touch me.”

Lexie felt Harry shift again, his thigh nearly pressing exactly where she wanted it to.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes studying her face intently.

With the flutter of her eyelids, she nodded again. “Please.”

“Lexie…”

Before she could say more, before she barely had time to process how sexy and deep his voice sounded when he said her name, his lips were on hers again.

Lexie shoved her pajamas into her overnight bag as she watched the light yet steady rain continue to fall outside. The weather wasn’t as bad as it had been during the night. The thunder and lightning had stopped, and the parking lot wasn’t flooded like Harry had predicted.

Harry.

She could hear his footsteps coming up the sidewalk. Taking her eyes from the window, Lexie turned toward the sink to grab her toothbrush and other toiletries. She heard the door open behind her and the sound of feet stomping to rid of their dirt or water.

“We’re all checked out,” he announced. “So...whenever you’re ready…”

“Okay,” Lexie called over her shoulder before turning around and dropping her toiletry bag inside her suitcase. Then she zipped it up and gave a tight smile. “All set.”

“Here, I’ll take that,” Harry declared with a nod as he reached for Lexie’s bag.

Sucking in her lips, Lexie decided not to argue, accepting Harry’s chivalry as she slid her arms into her raincoat. Then she followed him out to her car where she unlocked it and popped open the trunk. Lexie sat in the driver’s seat, the engine running while she heard Harry slam the trunk and rush to his side.

“Rain’s not so bad now,” he commented, rubbing his hands together, “but the temperature’s dropped.”

“Yeah, it’s cold,” Lex agreed, immediately regretting it.

The entire morning had been nothing but short, redundant replies to his comments or questions, punctuated with tight-lipped smiles and nods. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the thick air between them.

“Breakfast?” Lexie managed to ask when she shifted the car into reverse.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said as he buckled his seatbelt. “Don’t reckon those potato chips and sodas lasted long after…”

Though his words trailed off, Lexie looked at him with wide eyes. When his gaze lifted from the click of his seatbelt and he gave a smirk, however, she felt herself blush. A small, nervous giggle escaped her throat as she shifted back into drive and turned out of the parking lot.

Still catching a flicker of a grin on Harry’s face out of the corner of her eye, Lexie quickly found a radio station that was to her liking, and she quietly hummed along. Truth was, she was nervous as hell, though she wasn’t quite sure why. She didn’t like it that Harry suddenly made her nervous either, because he never had before. He was her friend. But now he was…

Harry.

Her mind wandered to the night before, his soft kisses, his hands on her hips as his own pressed against her. He hadn’t tried to rush her. In fact, he had been completely gentle and respectful, knowing she was hesitant. Her own brain had been spinning like a whirlwind, unsure of how far to go. She knew she liked him and was attracted to him, that was a given. And the feeling of his lips on hers only confirmed that. But it had only been a short time that she’d been broken up from Shelby, her long-term girlfriend and the only person who’d even seen her naked in two years.

She’d let him touch her. When his hand had slipped inside her pajama bottoms, she hadn’t stopped him, though his eyes questioned her. She’d bit her lip and opened her legs, a sigh quickly releasing from her lungs when she felt his fingers on her. His gaze had been focused on her face the entire time while his hands had done the magic, making her throw her head back and moan as her legs shook. She thought she might have breathed his name, though she wasn’t sure. It was a possibility it had gotten lost behind the sound of the thunder. She did remember, however, the tender kiss he’d given her when she’d come down, his hands cradling her face as though she was a china doll.

“Lex?”

“Huh?” Lexie blinked. She blushed again, realizing her focus was not on the road.

“Looks like there’s a diner up there,” Harry pointed. “Unless you just wanted to find a McDonald’s.”

“Oh! No...yeah...that sounds great, actually.”

“I know I could go for some pancakes,” Harry commented, patting his belly.

Lexie smiled at him. “Yeah. Me too.”

Pulling into a spot next to a pickup truck, Lexie put the car in park and killed the engine. Pushing her door open, she felt something brush her hand. But just as she turned to look at Harry, she saw him quickly peel his eyes away and open his own door, shutting it with a thud.

The overly chipper waitress seated them at a table by the window. After ordering coffee and juice, Lexie pulled out her phone, prepared to text her sister when she suddenly frowned. Harry caught it, his breath stalling in his throat as he waited for Lexie to say something.

He watched her silently as she typed hastily on her phone. He wanted to snatch it from her hands and throw it out the window, but instead he waited. Despite what happened between them the night before, it was none of his business whom she was texting. But he really hoped to God it wasn’t Shelby.

The waitress returned with their beverages then, and Lexie laid down her phone with a smile. They both ordered a big breakfast with pancakes, but suddenly Harry wasn’t very hungry.

“Um…” he hesitated, reaching for his silverware. “Everything okay?”

“What? Oh…” Lexie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine. I had a text from Shelby, but I ignored it. I was texting my sister to let her know I made it through the storm, and that I’ll text her again once I’ve dropped you off.”

Harry sucked in his lips and nodded, though he felt his insides release the tension they’d been holding.

“I’m sorry I had to tag along,” he muttered.

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Lexie waved him off before dropping a straw into her orange juice and taking a sip.

“Well, if you didn’t have to take me to Brian’s, you could get to your sister’s sooner. You have to go out of the way.”

“Harry, it’s not out of the way. In fact, it’s exactly on the way. It’s fine.”

Harry watched Lexie’s eyes as she took another drink. He liked the way her eyelashes fluttered slowly, laying delicately against her cheeks. He thought of kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. He’d never been this awkward around anyone before, the morning after. But this wasn’t just anyone.

“Besides,” Lexie added, sitting back in her seat, “it was you that needed the ride. It just so happened that I could visit my sister at the same time.”

The waitress returned with their food, and for several minutes they ate in awkward silence. Or perhaps it was only Harry who felt awkward. He wanted to mention the night before, but he reckoned in a diner while eating pancakes was not the best place to bring it up.

“So, are you excited about the wedding?” Lexie asked, breaking the silence.

Harry shrugged. “I like weddings. But I’m not sure excited would be the right word.”

Lex giggled, making Harry look up from his breakfast. He’d come to notice that he really liked her laugh.

“Why not?”

“Well…” he began, swallowing the bite in his mouth, “Brian’s an old friend of mine. And I’m happy for him. His family’s always been great to me. Looks like he’s found a great girl. It’s just…”

Lexie looked at him, tilting her head. “Just what? You’re not jealous, are you Harry?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not jealous. I just...he’s got a big family, lots of cousins and friends. I’ll be the only person there alone.”

“Oh,” Lexie mouthed. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Last time I visited them,” he added, surprising Lex, “I was seeing someone.”

“Oh,” she whispered again.

With another shrug, Harry dismissed his own thoughts, diving back into his pancakes. “Doesn’t matter, I know. It’s my mate’s wedding. It’s not about me.”

“That’s true,” Lexie nodded. “You’re just there to show support.”

“Exactly,” Harry said with his mouth full.

With an odd feeling in her stomach, Lexie managed to eat the rest of her breakfast. She mentally kicked herself for even bringing up the subject and vowed to stay quiet about it until they’d reached their destination.

Back on the road, Lexie gave Harry control of the music, letting him choose a playlist from her phone. Except for a comment here or there on the songs, the conversation was sparse. They were on a long stretch of highway with nothing much on either side but pasture and the occasional farm or herd of cows.

“So, um…” Harry hesitated a moment before deciding to just admit what he was thinking. “I enjoyed last night.”

“What?” Lexie turned her head quickly before returning her eyes to the road. She heard Harry let out a soft, deep laugh, making her weak in the knees.

“I was wondering how long it would take either of us to mention it, but it’s been hours now and...well, I reckoned I’d have to be the one to address the elephant in the room...or, um...car.”

Sucking in her lips, Lexie felt herself blush as she gripped the steering wheel.

“Sorry,” she finally muttered, stealing a glance at Harry. “Guess I’m not very good at this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Harry. He paused before adding his question. “Did you enjoy it?”

Lexie felt her lips curl up as she kept her eyes on the road. Then tapping her thumbs on the wheel, she nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

“Good.” Harry sat back in his seat then, trying his best not to seem cocky. But she’d said she’d liked it. And that made him happy.

“I um...just want you to know…” he added, “it doesn’t have to be...weird between us now.”

“Oh, yeah, I know,” Lexie agreed hastily.

“It’s just...um...I’d really like to do it again, but if you feel-”

“If I feel what?” Lexie eyed him, her cheeks still pink.

Harry grinned, looked down at his knees and licked his lips. He was kind of enjoying the obvious effect he had on her, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Just...if you don’t want to, I’ll understand.”

“Harry, I um…” Lexie shifted in her seat, gripping the wheel. “Something else you should know about me. I’m not a one and done type of girl. I don’t...sleep around.”

Harry’s lips widened, his dimples deeper. “I know that, Lex.”

“But by the same token,” she continued, “I don’t rush into things either. I mean, I just broke up with-”

She stopped when she felt Harry’s hand on her elbow.

“Say no more,” he murmured. “I understand.”

Slowly releasing her grip on the steering wheel, Lexie lowered her arm to the seat, laying her hand next to her, palm up. Taking it as the gesture it was, Harry gracefully slipped his fingers through hers. Their hands remained like that through the next three songs as they both hummed softly along until stopping at the next exit to fill up on gas.

Harry had gone inside the food market to get a few snacks for the road while Lexie pumped the gas. Paying the cashier, he pushed the door open to see Lexie with her back to him, leaning against the driver’s side. It wasn’t until he got closer that he realized she was talking on her cell.

“I just can’t do it anymore, Shel,” he heard her say. “I just...I think it’s time we both moved on.”

Afraid he was intruding, Harry started to turn back to the market, pretending he’d forgotten something.

“Harry!”

Stopping in his tracks, he turned around again. Lexie beamed at him as she pushed a strand of hair from her face. He never thought she looked so pretty. Except maybe last night…

“What’d you get me?” she asked, jogging around the back of the car. Peeking into the paper bag, she raised her brows. Then she giggled, recognizing the potato chips, cookies and juice. “All my favorites.”

“Well, you didn’t get your juice last night so-”

Lexie planted a haste kiss on his cheek. “You’re sweet. I’m going to the ladies’. Be right back.”

“Hey, would you like me to drive for a while?” Harry inquired.

“If you like,” she smiled, handing him the keys.

Harry watched her practically prance into the market. He didn’t want to jinx it, but it certainly seemed like she’d gotten the closure she needed with Shelby. He was happy to see her with a little pep in her step.

Setting the groceries in the backseat, Harry put the key in the ignition. Then reaching back, he grabbed the two juices and placed them in the cup holders between the front seats. Just as Lexie returned to the car, Harry noticed it was sprinkling.

“Good timing, I guess,” remarked Lex as she climbed into the passenger seat. “I saw the dark clouds forming a few miles back.”

Switching on the windshield wipers, Harry pulled out of the gas station. As soon as they were back on the highway, he heard Lexie open the bottles then hand him one.

“Cheers,” she said with a sly grin.

Harry mimicked her, tapping his bottle against hers. “Thanks.”

“So, tell me more about this Brian guy,” said Lex as she pulled out the bag of potato chips and opened them.

Harry looked at her and then back at the road. “You sure are in a good mood.”

“Am I not supposed to be?”

“I dunno. I just thought…”

“That I’d be sad or still hung up on Shelby?” she asked.

Harry shrugged. “I couldn’t help overhearing.”

Lexie was quiet for a moment as she stared at the chip in her hand.

“It’s over,” she admitted softly. Then turning, she captured Harry’s gaze. “I ended it. Officially.”

Swallowing, Harry set his juice in the cup holder and nodded. “How do you feel about that?”

With a grin slowly spreading across her face, Lexie popped the chip into her mouth.

“I feel good about it,” she announced. “Great, actually. Is that awful?”

Harry shook his head. “Not at all. I’m glad you got the closure you needed.”

“Me too,” Lex agreed. Then like before, she laid her hand palm up across the console. Harry took it as an invitation and with a tiny flicker of a spark, he threaded his fingers through hers.

“Thank you.”

Harry wasn’t exactly sure what he’d done, but the look on her face and the touch of her skin was enough reason.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now hand me some of those cookies.”

“Hurry before you catch pneumonia!” Lexie heard the woman at the door call out.

The rain had been coming down nonstop for the last couple hours. Though Lexie had been grateful to Harry for taking over behind the wheel, she felt guilty for making him drive through that grueling weather. They’d finally made it to his friend Brian’s house, or rather, his mother’s, but the rain was determined to be difficult, the wind only adding to the arduous driving conditions.

Closing the trunk of the car, Lexie followed Harry as he carried both bags up the steps of the large farmhouse, stomping his feet on the massive wrap-around porch. Lex had given Harry a short questioning glance when he’d grabbed her bag, but with the woman shouting and the rain pouring down, she decided not to argue.

“Virginia!” he shouted. “Nice to see you.”

“Harry Styles, get in this house this instant!”

Practically shooing him over the threshold, the woman wasn’t slow to notice the girl following behind.

“Hello, dear!” she greeted. “Welcome.”

Lexie barely got a thank you out before Virginia addressed Harry again. “Who did you bring, handsome?”

“This is Lexie, Virginia,” Harry answered as he dropped the bags in the foyer. “We drove here in her car.”

“Oh, I see,” Virginia beamed. “Lovely to meet you...Lexie, you said?”

“Well, it’s Alexis actually, but…”

“Oh, come here, give me a hug,” the older woman insisted. “I’m so happy for you.”

Lexie wasn’t sure if she was more embarrassed because she was wet from the rain, or because the woman obviously thought she and Harry were a legit couple. Catching only a slight twitch of nervousness in Harry’s reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, she opted to once again leave it be. Virginia was certainly used to playing hostess, and from the aroma in the house, Lexie could already tell she was good at it.

“Styles, you made it!”

Lexie looked up to see a man around Harry’s height and build saunter down the stairs. Meeting Harry, he caught him in a tight embrace, murmuring thank yous and missed yous.

“Lex, meet one of my oldest, dearest mates, Brian Ramsey.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lexie nodded, extending her hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

“And you already met his mother, Mrs. Ramsey, AKA Virginia, AKA the best cook aside from my mum.”

“AKA the one you never come to see anymore,” Mrs. Ramsey swatted at Harry with her dishcloth.

“I’m sorry love, I’ve been busy,” Harry smirked.

“Mhmm, I see,” she nodded, eyeing Lexie and then giving a wink.

“Well, c’mon, Harry, let’s go have a drink,” Brian gestured down the hall to where Lexie only assumed was the kitchen. “Pretty sure Pops, Jenny and Serena are back here.”

Eager to join him, Harry looked back at Lexie with a smile.

“Oh,” she mouthed. “Actually, I should probably get going.”

“What?” Virginia asked incredulously.

“Yeah, um...I was actually just dropping Harry off. I have to get to my sister’s.”

“Oh, honey, you can’t go out in this weather!” Virginia insisted. “It’s supposed to be raining all night, possible flooding. Maybe even a tornado.”

“Oh.”

“And the roads around here usually flood pretty quickly, so they close them off. You probably won’t be able to get out until tomorrow morning, at the earliest.”

“Oh,” she whispered again.

“Don’t worry about it, Lex,” Harry offered. “I’m sure Mrs. Ramsey won’t mind you staying over.”

“Of course not, dear!” she exclaimed. “Trust me, you’re not going anywhere in this.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” Lex started to argue.

“Nonsense! I have enough rooms, blankets, towels and food for an army!”

“Ugh, the army line again,” scoffed Brian.

“Hush, you!” Virginia said, daring him with his own swat from the dishcloth.

Reluctantly, Lexie followed the two boys through the hall and into a large open area with the kitchen to the left, and a family room to the right.

“I thought a heard a raucous out there!” announced the man sitting in the leather recliner. Rising from it, he quickly held his hand out. “Harry, good to see you, son.”

“Hey, Pops,” said Harry, giving him a big hug. “How’s life treating you?”

“Can’t complain.”

With a grin, Harry stepped back and placed his hand on the small of Lexie’s back. “Pops, this is Lexie.”

“Hello, Lexie,” the older man greeted with a handshake. Then placing his other hand on top, he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Just so you know, he’s one of the good ones.”

“What are you telling her, Pops?” asked a young woman who’d just walked into the room.

“None of your business.”

“Lies.”

Lex eyed Harry who let out a burst of giggles.

“Hi, I’m Jenny,” said the woman. “Brian’s older but wiser sister.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“And that one over there,” she pointed to the brunette in the kitchen, “is Brian’s fiancée, Serena.”

“Not for much longer,” Serena sang, taking a cookie sheet from the oven and placing it on top of the stove. Then wiping her hands on her apron, she walked around the counter, holding out her hand. “Hi, so nice to meet you, Lexie.”

Lexie suddenly felt as if she was in a movie, one of those wholesome Christmas films that were shown on television every year. Everyone was so nice and hospitable, it seemed...unreal.

Brian emerged from the kitchen then with two glasses of wine, offering them to Harry and Lex. Lifting his glass, Harry proposed a toast to the happy couple, wishing them all the best.

After several games of cards, and a couple rounds of charades, in which Harry won both, plus far too many of Serena’s cookies, the evening had finally wound down. The wedding pair retired to their room upstairs and Mrs. Ramsey set both Harry and Lexie up with their own rooms, across the hall from each other. Lexie had already called her sister to tell her the situation, and that she would be arriving later than scheduled.

After brushing her teeth, Lexie opened the bathroom door to find Harry standing in the hallway. A smile slowly spread across his face as he took her in. His gaze suddenly made Lexie self-conscious, and she looked down at her ensemble.

“Different pajamas,” she remarked.

“I can see that,” Harry smirked. “I like those, too.”

Blushing, she bit her lip, then ran a hand through her hair. “Um, did you need the restroom?”

“Oh...yeah.”

As Lexie turned down her bed, a beautiful blue and white rose quilt, she found herself humming one of the songs she and Harry had listened to earlier that day in the car. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she recalled the way he’d told her he’d enjoyed the night before.

Suddenly, a knock sounded behind her, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Lexie gestured.

Harry stepped into the room, gazing up at the photos and paintings on the walls, then walked over to the dresser and inspected everything on it.

“The Ramseys are really nice,” Lexie remarked, taking a seat on the bed as she watched Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “They’re like...my second family.”

“I can tell. They’re definitely fond of you.”

“Yes.”

“And it was very kind of them to let me stay. Even though it was mostly Virginia’s idea,” Lexie laughed. “I don’t think she was about to let me set foot outside again.”

Harry chuckled nervously in agreement. “She’s a tough one, that Virginia. What she says goes.”

Placing an old, framed photo back onto the dresser, he let out a sigh. Finally, turning around, he sucked in his lips. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Harry looked at the floor.

“Um...hey I know it’s kind of last minute, and you need to get to your sister’s and all…” he paused, biting his bottom lip before finally lifting his eyes to Lexie, “but I was wondering...and you totally don’t have to...if you’d like to stay...a little longer tomorrow...and be my date. For the wedding.”

Lexie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected him to ask her that.

“Oh!” she breathed. “Oh, well...I…”

Harry shook his head. “It’s alright. It was a dumb thing to ask.”

“No!” Lexie exclaimed. “I mean...no, it wasn’t a dumb thing to ask. I mean...actually…”

The corners of Harry’s mouth quivered slightly before his lips spread into a smile and his dimples appeared. He let out a tiny chuckle, causing Lexie to glare at him.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re as nervous as I am,” he replied.

Lexie blushed as she realized he was absolutely right. With a smile that nearly blinded Harry, Lexie stepped forward and took his hand.

“I’d love to be your date,” she beamed.

Lexie stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. While she wouldn’t call the dress exactly her style, she was grateful that Jenny let her borrow it for the special occasion. She liked the dainty blue flowers and flowing sleeves.

“I think it’s perfect,” declared Brian’s sister. “You look so pretty.”

“I do?” asked Lexie bashfully, her cheeks blushing a light pink.

“Definitely. Looks better on you than it ever did on me. Lucky we’re the same size.”

Biting her lip, Lexie ran her hands across her waist. She silently wondered what Harry would think.

“What about your hair?” asked Jenny. “Were you planning on wearing it up or down?”

Lex grinned nervously. “I actually hadn’t thought about it. This whole thing wasn’t planned at all.”

“Of course,” Jenny smiled.

“I usually wear my hair down though,” Lexie added, winding a strand around her finger. “What do you think?”

Jenny’s smile widened. “I have a great idea.”

Turning to her dresser, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a headband, bringing it to Lexie.

“What do you think of this?” she asked. The headband was simple, adorned with dainty flowers and leaves in gold metal.

“I love it!” exclaimed Lex.

With gentle ease, Jenny placed the headband on the center of Lexie’s head, allowing her soft, delicate hair to fall around it.

“Yes,” beamed Jenny. “Absolutely perfect.”

A knock sounded on the door then, and Jenny walked across the room to open it.

“Harry, you can’t see us yet,” Lex heard Jenny say. “It’s bad luck.”

“I thought that was just the bride and groom,” Harry chuckled from the doorway.

“Even so,” Jenny whispered. “I wasn’t quite finished.”

“With what?”

It was then that Harry spotted Lexie across the room, her reflection in the mirror as she looked down at her hands.

“Oh!” he sounded, his eyes wide.

With a sigh, Jenny stepped back and allowed Harry to enter the room.

“Wow, Lex, you look amazing!” he announced.

“Thanks,” she muttered, turning around to face him. Grabbing the sides of the dress, she felt herself blush again. “Jenny let me borrow it.”

“It’s lovely on you.”

Lexie and Harry seemed to stare at each other for a few moments until the silence was broken by Jenny’s voice.

“Shoes!” she squealed, nearly making Lexie jump. “What size shoes do you wear?”

“Um…” Lexie swallowed, “eight.”

“Aw crap,” Jenny scowled, snapping her hands on her waist. “I’m a nine. They’d be too big.”

“It’s okay.”

“I bet Serena’s your size,” she added. “I’m not sure if she brought any other shoes with her, but I could ask.”

“Really, it’s okay,” Lex chuckled. “You’ve done enough for me. Besides after the weather last night, I might be glad I’m in my sneakers.”

“Oh, that reminds me why I came up,” said Harry. “Your mum needs you downstairs. Something about a broken table and angry caterers.”

“Ugh,” Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Oh no, I hope everything’s okay,” said Lexie. “Maybe I should help.”

“No need,” Jenny held up a hand as she headed for the door. “When Virginia Ramsey’s involved, there is a way.”

“Send out an S.O.S. if you need us,” called Harry.

“Will do!”

Harry’s shoulders shook with laughter as his best friend’s sister left the room, leaving him alone with Lexie.

“Look at you,” said Lex, making Harry turn and raise a brow. “You clean up nice, Styles.”

Harry looked down at his suit, his hands on the jacket lapels.

“Wha’ this ol’ thing?” he smirked, causing Lexie to giggle.

Stepping closer to him, she reached for the cross around his neck, displayed in the center of his chest.

“I take it you’re not a tie kind of guy,” she remarked.

“Not particularly,” Harry grinned at her. “Why, do you think I should wear one?”

Lexie shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

She felt his hand on her waist before he pulled her closer, his chest colliding with hers. His green eyes seemed to dance as his other hand slid under her ear.

“You look really pretty, Lex,” he said softly.

“Thanks. So do you.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched before he leaned forward, his lips so close to hers she could feel his breath on them.

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” he asked.

“I was beginning to wonder why you hadn’t already.”

Lexie gasped when Harry opened the back door, and she followed him out onto the large porch. It was trimmed with dangling lights and floral garlands that cascaded down the banisters to the large canopy in the backyard.

“Kinda magical, innit?” asked Harry, catching Lexie’s eye. She smiled and nodded.

“C’mere you two!” someone called from the yard and Lexie turned to see Mrs. Ramsey beckoning them. “I could use your help.”

Taking her hand, Harry lead Lexie down the steps and between the rows of white chairs to where Virginia stood.

“At your service,” offered Harry with a grin. “What do you need us to do?”

“Oh honey, don’t you look lovely!” exclaimed Virginia when she finally got a good look at Harry’s date up close.

“Thank you,” Lexie said shyly, looking down at her sneakered feet.

Her hand went to her forehead to brush a strand of hair from her face when she remembered the headband. Gently, she adjusted it, careful not to make a mess of it before the wedding as she caught the gleam in Virginia’s eyes when she smiled at Harry.

“If you wouldn’t mind, my dears,” said Mrs. Ramsey, “could you kindly stand outside the gate to greet the guests as they come in? Brian’s cousins are ushers, but I’d just like to have someone out there to make sure they’re entering on the right side, and no one steps in a mud puddle or anything.”

 “No problem,” Harry and Lexie replied in unison.

Squeezing her hand that he was still holding, Harry gave Lexie a wink before guiding her around the corner to the large fence that surrounded the Ramsey’s backyard. Then unlocking the gate, he released her hand only to push it open.

“So, we just stand out here?” inquired Lexie.

“Yep. Guests should be arriving soon.”

Twirling around, Lexie inspected the view of the backyard through the gate, getting an idea of what guests might see when they walk through.

“This is really a great place for a wedding,” she commented.

“It is,” agreed Harry with a nod.

“And convenient, too. They probably saved a ton of money.”

“You better believe it,” Harry chuckled. “And not just because it’s the Ramsey’s house. Virginia will find the best deal anywhere. She’s kind of famous for it.”

“Really?” Lexie smiled, intrigued.

“Yeah, if she can do it herself, or get Pops to do it, she will. If not, she knows everyone within the next three towns, and she won’t let them take advantage of her. She always gets her way.”

Lexie laughed. “She’s a pretty cool lady.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched as he stepped closer.

“You’re a pretty cool lady, too,” he declared.

“Stop,” Lexie playfully swatted at him as he tried to put his arms around her.

“Too cheesy?”

“Hmm, maybe a little…” she bit her lip.

“Sorry,” said Harry as he managed to pull her closer. “I’ll cut back on the cheese.”

“No, it’s...it’s cute.”

“I really like you, Lex. And I’m glad you’re here.”

A big smile spread across her face as she slid her hands up his arms. “Me too.”

Harry was just about to ask which statement she was agreeing with when an older couple approached them from the front yard.

“Don’t tell me the wedding’s started already,” the man chided.

“No, sir,” Lexie began before she noticed the twinkle in his eye.

“Harry,” he added, holding out his hand. “Good to see you, young man.”

“Mr. McRay, a pleasure,” Harry greeted.

“How’s that beautiful mother of yours?”

“She’s just fine, sir, thanks for asking.” Harry reached for Lexie then, placing his hand on her back. “Lex, this is Mr. and Mrs. McRay, the Ramsey’s neighbors.”

“How do you do,” Lexie smiled.

“I do wonderful, pretty lady,” Mr. McRay said, giving her a wink and earning himself a poke from his wife.

“Charles is a big flirt,” she scoffed. “Don’t mind him.”

Lexie felt herself blush as Harry’s fingertips dug into her waist as he gently pulled her closer to his side.

“You two look lovely,” Mrs. McRay added. “I trust Virginia’s inside, running herself ragged?”

“Just a wee bit,” said Harry, making Lexie giggle.

“I better see if she needs my help. Hope to see you two later.”

“Enjoy the wedding,” smiled Lexie.

By the time the McRays made it inside the gate, a short line of cars had formed along the curb, some on the driveway. Lexie took a deep breath as she watched guests exit their cars and begin the walk up to the gate.

After greeting at least half a dozen couples and clusters of families, Lexie noticed something. Harry’s hand had remained on her back the entire time. Perhaps it was a silent reassurance that even though she wasn’t a member of the wedding party or even an originally invited guest, she was still very much a part of the day’s activities because she was Harry’s date.

His date. Lexie let the word roll around her brain for a moment while she watched him chat with someone else he’d known nearly all his life. She liked the word. It was simple, not too formal or labeling. He’d introduced her as his date a couple of times already, a big, dimpled smile on his face as he’d said it.

“This is my date, Lexie,” he’d beamed, his hand giving her another light squeeze.

She liked that he hadn’t said “friend”. Although she certainly was his friend, she always thought that word held little romantic value. Even Shelby would sometimes introduce her as her friend, after they’d been dating for months, and it would rub her wrong to put it mildly. It wasn’t that she thought she and Harry had crossed the line into more than just friends after just one night together, but…

“Lex?” Harry asked, making her blink.

“Yeah, sorry,” she swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I was just telling Jackson about our little adventure on the road to get here.”

“Oh!” Lexie’s eyes widened.

Harry let out a gleeful chuckle and leaned into her. “Not the motel part, love.”

Lexie couldn’t help but laugh in spite of herself, and when she found she couldn’t stop, she rolled her head into Harry’s chest.

“Seems she’s gotten a fit of the giggles,” Harry explained to Jackson who’d joined in on the humor of an obvious inside joke.

“I’m so sorry!” Lexie shouted, muffled from Harry’s shirt.

“I’ll meet you inside,” laughed Jackson. “Good to meet you, Lexie.”

“You too!”

Harry’s chest continued to shake with laughter as he gently rubbed Lexie’s back. Once Jackson was out of earshot, she slowly lifted her head.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whined.

“Why?” Harry asked, an enormous grin on his face.

“It’s not that I thought you’d told him...it’s just...it’s the first thing that came to mind, and...oh, God.”

Grabbing the lapels of his jacket and burying her face in his neck, Lexie got a good whiff of Harry’s cologne and suddenly felt her legs go weak.

“You are so fucking cute, Lex,” she heard him say.

“I am?” she asked, breathing him in. His skin was so close to her lips, she wanted to touch it.

“Yeah. I kind of always thought of you as very confident and self-assured.” Harry’s free hand found the back of her head and began to lightly brush his fingers through her hair. “And you are, I find it very sexy. But this…”

“Hmm?” Lexie sounded when he paused.

“This is a different side of you,” Harry explained. “I dunno if it’s because of me, but...it’s like you have your guard down a little bit. And I think it’s very sexy, too.”

Her legs now jelly, Lexie shifted slightly until her lips met the warm skin on his neck. She pressed three soft kisses there until she felt him hum against her mouth.

“Lex…” he whispered.

Lifting her head, she saw a deep green in his eyes she’d never seen before. He brushed a tiny strand of hair from her face before cupping her chin. Just as he was about the lean forward, however, a voice behind him interrupted.

“Harry, son, they’re getting the wedding party ready,” announced Mr. Ramsey.

“Oh yes, of course,” Harry cleared his throat. “Be right there.”

Lexie gave another look of embarrassment that only earned her a grin from Harry. Then taking her hand, he kissed the back of it.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to your seat.”

“You know, I knew you were the Best Man, but I guess I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you wouldn’t be sitting with me. Makes me kinda sad.”

“‘m sorry, love,” Harry frowned.

“It’s okay. I’m being dramatic,” Lexie teased. “At least I get to watch you.”

Harry chuckled low as they reached the end of a row of chairs where Lexie took a seat.

“Who says I won’t be watching you?”

“Please, it’s a wedding, Harry. Nobody’s even looking at anything but the bride and groom.”

“Hmm...that’s what you think.”

With another giggle in her chest, Lexie watched Harry turn down the aisle and walk up the porch steps. Soon enough, the music started and Brian escorted Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey to their seats on the front row. Serena’s mother was escorted next, followed by Harry and Jenny, serving as the Best Man and Maid of Honor.

Finally, the wedding march began, and Serena emerged from the porch and down the steps, her arm looped with her father’s. Lexie immediately felt the heaviness in her chest as Serena walked down the aisle, her face all aglow as her eyes met Brian’s. Then turning in her seat, Lexie caught the look on Brian’s face and just about lost it. No matter how strong and self-assured she sometimes seemed, Lex was no stranger to crying at weddings. Perhaps she was a true romantic at heart.

Just when the ceremony began, Lexie heard a familiar sound and realized it was raining again. However, with the party safe under the large canopy, it was almost tranquil.

As the couple said their vows, Lexie’s eyes veered toward her date who stood behind the groom. Her insides nearly melted when she realized he was looking at her too. And when the rings were exchanged and a tear made its way down her cheek, Lexie caught Harry’s lips curl up until they widened into a smile.

When the happy couple was pronounced husband and wife, the guests clapped and watched them make their way up the aisle. As Harry followed, he discreetly held out his hand to allow it to graze across Lexie’s shoulder. As if the looks he’d given her during the ceremony weren’t enough, her entire skin was now on fire.

Moments later, as the reception began, Lexie had just finished chatting with a friend of Serena’s that she’d met earlier when she felt the familiar hand on her waist.

“Did you enjoy that?” he whispered in her ear.

“Did you enjoy mocking me?” she teased.

“Mocking you?”

“Yeah, what was with the huge grin while I was clearly in tears over the vows?”

“That was not mocking,” argued Harry. “I was happy.”

“Happy I was crying?”

“Well...kinda, yeah,” Harry shrugged.

“Meanie!”

“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean I was happy that it moved you that much.”

“Oh.”

“I told you I was gonna watch you,” Harry added.

“Glad to be your entertainment.” Lexie folded her arms and looked down at her sneakers.

“Heyyy,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it was...it was a beautiful wedding.”

“It was. But it’s not over yet. We have a party.” Harry spread his arms out.

“Yeah...I can’t stay that long though.”

“Oh,” Harry dropped his arms and frowned. “Why not?”

“I just...I have to get to my sister’s.”

“I thought you had that all worked out.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad. I was supposed to be there a long time ago, and now I’ll only get like a day and a half with her as it is.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered.

“Not your fault,” Lexie waved her hand. “I should...I should probably go ahead and get changed. Pack my stuff. Looks like the rain stopped, so I should get out before it starts again.”

As she turned toward the back porch, Harry grabbed her hand.

“But wait…” he pleaded. “We...we haven’t had our dance yet.”

“Dance?”

As if on cue, a slow love song began to play, and a few couples took to the dance floor.

“Please?” Harry held out his hand.

With a sigh, Lexie took it and followed him. They began to sway in each other’s arms, the music leading them.

“Thanks for coming with me, Lex,” Harry said low. “And for being my date.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I wish we...had more time.”

Lexie stared at Harry’s lips for a long while before shifting her gaze to his eyes which seemed to burn into hers.

“Me too,” she finally admitted.

“Yeah?”

Shutting her eyes, Lexie leaned forward.

“Harry…” she whispered. “I don’t wanna go.”

“What?”

“I mean...I still wanna see my sister, but...I don’t wanna leave you.”

“Lexie…” Harry breathed, lifting his hand to her cheek.

“Is that awful?” she asked when she opened her eyes.

“No.”

Harry’s face looked so serene and beautiful, Lexie couldn’t help but feel a sudden calmness, even though her heart was beating a mile a minute.

“I’ve had the best time with you,” she confessed. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

“Me neither.”

“Would it be...completely awkward or inappropriate if I asked you to come with me?”

“To your sister’s?” Harry asked.

“Yeah…” Lexie’s expression faltered. “Never mind, forget it. It’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not,” murmured Harry as he blinked slowly, pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers.

Rain began to pelt against the canopy once again just as the fire she’d felt before returned full force and Lexie fell into the kiss. Their bodies continued to sway as their lips and tongues collided, until the song finally came to an end. Then leaning his forehead against hers, Harry gave her another of his dazzling smiles.

 “I’d love to,” he said.

Hope you enjoyed!

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[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: the first cracks; they're here - and, again, you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was silly. Joe was being silly.

He knew it, and felt so stupid for it. Like, in hindsight, the worrying felt so dumb. The constant milling shit over didn’t change anything, there was no real point to it. Although, maybe you being on his mind in this... new manner was what summoned you last night.

You just showed up, talking about a crazy day, no sad pouts, no needy touches. Just jittery movements and a lot to tell him.

Joe kind of sat back on his sofa, spread out and leaning into his left elbow and watched you pace around his lounge. Something about something a colleague had said that then turned out to be lies and you found out something by overhearing a phone call you weren’t meant to overhear – Joe was barely following along. Didn’t really try his best to, if he was honest.

He was moreso paying attention to what you were actually doing – were you even aware that you had started grabbing random things he had left lying around on his coffee table, on the kitchen island, on the counters, and one by one, put everything away where it was meant to go?  

Joe pursed a smile as he realised you knew exactly where everything went. Why did that make his chest ache in the best of ways?

This new casual form of intimacy seemed so small, but Joe felt how it smothered that little grain of doubt that resided in his chest. That little grain that had convinced him that you were probably going to fall into a new routine with your new flatmate after he moved in and, then you would probably grow close to him and Joe knew how you... no.

No.

He couldn’t think that.

It wasn’t fair on you. He caught himself trying to finish the thought a lot, but he knew it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t true. He didn’t even fully believe it. It was this thing. Still, he also couldn’t help how it simultaneously made him grow a little more possessive and made him want to prepare for the worst.

But, she was here, he had to remind himself.

She’s here.

And she was wandering around his space, letting her train of thought flow freely from her brain into his living room and he used to witness this all the time when you lived together still. Joe realised he’d actually missed it a lot, and wasn’t that the whole point? That he got to miss you now?

God, Joe missed you a lot and you were right there and he could just burst at the seams at how fucking lucky he felt.

He was a just normal guy in a normal flat with a normal relationship– well, normalish relationship, anyway. Not that you had talked about anything yet. Of course you hadn’t. But it was pretty fucking obvious what this was. So he had started shrugging whenever someone would ask if you were actually together, which felt a lot better than the forever, “No, we’re flatmates, what are you talking about?” he used to throw at people, practically gaslighting them out of whatever they thought they’d witnessed between him and the girl that he used to live with.

It was working. The plan he had made, this vague idea of normalcy; it was working out the way he had wanted it to.

And yea, sure, you were getting a new flatmate and Joe had a difficult time not feeling some type of way about that, but, he had made the decision to move out and, look at you now.

“Do you think I can get a raise out of this? Or at least get a weird bonus, mid-term?”

Joe had a hard time not laughing at your question as he saw you had already mentally moved onto something else. You were stood in the middle of the room, both hands on your hips, eyes scanning the room. Everything tidy and organised.

“Joe, when did you last clean?”

Joe followed your gaze up into one of the corners of the ceiling.

“I cleaned today.” Joe said, knowing you’d likely not take it as an honest answer. You had lived together, remember? No fucking way was Joe ever going to feel the urge to maybe sometimes swipe a feather duster across the upper corners of his living room.

You shuddered at the thought of what resided behind his curtains there.

You sighed and tutted and turned back to Joe’s kitchen like you were going to start cleaning his fucking ceilings at half past ten at night.

“Hey, no. No, no. Stop. Will you come sit down a second? My god.” Joe huffed, feigning annoyance. When you turned on your heel and giggled as you scurried over, Joe let a laugh escape his throat just before you let yourself fall into the cushions next to him.

He hooked an arm around your neck to pull you in so he could press his nose into your cheek a second. You gladly let him, and when he held you close like that for longer than you initially thought he would, you suddenly realised you’d just been talking about yourself for twenty minutes straight.

Just barged in with unimportant thoughts on your mind that you just verbally vomited right into Joe’s space. You knew it was mostly nervous energy that was only there because your new flatmate picked up his keys earlier, which now meant there was every opportunity for someone to just... walk into your flat at any given time. That had unexpectedly brought on way more anxiety than you previously thought it would do.

Hence why you decided to just... escape it, and went over to Joe’s to spend the night there.

Joe was pressing his nose into your cheek and held you in place for a bit before he moved his head down, hiding into your neck a second.

“You okay?” you asked softly, head tilting down a bit.

“Mm, yea, fine.” Joe inhaled deeply, before pressing a few small kisses to the crook there and moving back to look at you the in eye. He unhooked his elbow from around your neck and placed two cupped hands on either side of your face, swiping bits of hair back in the process.

Joe was leant all the way back into the sofa, head squished in between two of the back cushions and you took a moment to look at each other. Joe studied your face and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks until you grew shy.

“You look tired,” you softly said before Joe sat up a little and leant closer. It had you close your eyes just before scrunching up your nose as he kissed the very tip of it.

“I am tired.” He mused, copying your nose scrunch when you blinked your eyes open again, and Joe looked so soft. Sort of pleased with life, happy to be where he was and like he’d just had a really good productive day. He blinked slowly, eyes only half open, and looked sleepy enough to slip right into dreams the second his head would hit his pillow.

You loved him like this. His hands on you, all soft touches. Comfy and cosy and calm. Just you and him. No one else. No threat of someone randomly walking in.

This was perfect.

“Mmm, me too.” You smiled and let Joe grab one of your elbows to pull an arm across his stomach as he sat back again.

“I’m not surprised. You’ve just done a 5K as you tidied this room, I think.”

You huffed a laugh as you sank into Joe’s side, and then you sat like that in silence for a moment. No TV on. No phones in sight for some easy distraction. Just you and Joe and the view of his living room.

“Are you okay?” Joe suddenly asked, emphasis on the you, and you tried hiding the small, hitched intake of breath by quickly nodding and casually going, “Yea. Fine.”

You could feel how Joe tucked in his chin to look at you.

He waited. Wasn’t going to tell you, “No, be honest...”, but also wasn’t going to accept it and move on. It was still like that. He knew you were lying, and you knew he knew, no words shared at all.

So you sighed and took a second, and then said, “Josh picked up his key today.”

And you didn’t want to explain what that meant.

Didn’t want to tell Joe that, for a while, this existing-in-two-flats thing had just felt like a bit of a joke. Just the two of you playing and being silly about whatever you really were. You still sort of thought of him as a flatmate because he still came over all the time, and you went over to his all the time too. You existed in the same space almost just as much as before, sort of.

But now a new flatmate was actually moving in, and suddenly, it felt like reality had slapped you right across the cheek like it had done that day that Joe moved out.

You’d gotten to hide away for a lot of that.

And there was no real hiding this time around.

You couldn’t go home and pretend Joe was going to move back in eventually, because now Josh’s things were going to be all over the flat. Which was fine. Josh signed a lease. His things were allowed to be all over the place.

It was just... things were getting real now.

Shit was real.

“Which reminds me,” you suddenly piped up, pushing uncomfortable thoughts down, tucking those away for another time and place. “This is going to save you some money!”

You saw how Joe’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile as he watched how his own feet rubbed against yours. Then he caught himself and quickly furrowed his brow, saying, “No, I don’t think it works like that.”

You copied his expression, but were more confused than anything else.

“Of course it does. Josh signed the papers, he’s going to start paying rent now, you–”

“I said that I had taken care of things, didn’t I?” Joe interrupted you, fingers playing with the folds in your sleeve of the arm that rested over his stomach. “Can’t just not keep a promise like that.”

You blinked at him a second, then moved to sit up to stare at him harder. If both Joe and Josh paid rent, that basically meant that you... got to live for free for a while? That math wasn’t mathing. One plus one wasn’t equalling two here. You looked around Joe’s flat and tried to think of his own expenses, and... what the fuck was he doing?!

“Joe,”

“You’re not going to be able to talk me out of this.”

“Joe.”

Joe ignored you and faked a yawn, sped it up along with stretched out arms above his head and quickly said, “So tired. Bed?” before getting up and leaving you on his sofa as he left the room.

“You’re insane if you think I’m just going to accept that!” you called after him and heard him laugh from down the hall.

“Did you not just say you were after a weird mid-term bonus?”

And you hated how that made you smile. Made you punch one of the cushions and sink your teeth into your bottom lip begrudgingly as you forgot to breathe a second.

Joe smiled to himself too as he turned on the lights in his bathroom. It felt like he was winning a contest - there was no contest, no one to fight, not really, but, he was definitely winning.

“You coming?”

Breathe.

Calm down.

You could pretend to fight him on this once more in the morning.

Crawling into bed with Joe had its own little routine which was different from the one at yours. Different order of things, because the lay out of the flat was different.

Bathroom first. You brushed teeth together, always had to stop Joe when he washed his face too aggressively and then used your own moisturiser on him. “Just for your dry patches,” you’d always say, but would end up swiping delicate fingertips all over anyway. There’d be a snarky comment, of you using too much, of him feeling too greasy, of how he was going to stick to his pillow all night now, and then you’d always kiss him to shut him up before moving on to do your own skincare routine.

When you’d get into bed, Joe would already be in there, giving his phone a last once-over before he’d scoot down and get comfortable.

This time, however, when you walked into his bedroom, the lights were already off, and it looked like Joe was already falling asleep.

This soft man.

So sleepy.

He was all messy curls and bare arms, duvet tucked under them, curled up right in the middle of his bed. You slid in and cuddled up right behind him, hips against his bum, chest to his back.

You were right.

Joe was already falling asleep.

You pushed a leg in between his for warmth and snuck an arm around his front.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered into the skin of his shoulder which prompted Joe to grab hold of your hand and pull it into his chest so you were hugging him properly. The big spoon to his small one. Then he just hummed as you pressed a small kiss to his warm skin there.

“So crazy.” you nuzzled into his pillow, your nose rubbing his back as you did, and you felt how he ducked his head down to press a small kiss to your fingers.

You fell asleep warm, comfortable, and smiling.

You woke up in the same way.

Just on your stomach now, and with Joe’s heavy limbs slung over your body. When you turned over, it woke Joe up, and for five blissful early morning minutes, you tried crawling into each other’s skin as best you could. Breathed each other’s breath and tasted each other’s skin. Stroked hands underneath clothes and had fingers crawling into underwear, just to touch and to hold.

When you quietly asked if Joe wanted coffee, he groaned and told you to shut up. He was able to feel you giggle to that, and he could cry with how happy he felt in that moment. Why would you have to go and ruin it by getting up to go and make coffee?

“Five more minutes.”

“Mmm... it’s never just five.”

Joe sighed, “Just five.” speech slurring with early morning drowsiness and then burrowed himself into you even more.

And fine.

Joe could have five more minutes.

But then they easily turned into twenty, because they always did, and you had to eventually bribe Joe with breakfast for him to let you go so you could sit up.

“If you take a slow shower, I’ll have it ready when you finish.” You looked over your shoulder where Joe, still with his eyes closed, smiled widely. His nose was slightly red from pressing it into your skin, and his bedhead made you have to suppress a giggle that you hid by leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before you got out.

Joe barely even felt that little grain of bad in his chest when he thought of how much he loved you.

Because he did.

Joe fucking loved you.

There was going to be a moment soon where he was just going to have to say it. It was going to spill out of him in some other way if he wouldn’t simply use the words, he just knew it.

Joe loved you as he watched through squinty eyes how you reached for a pair of white socks of his to borrow.

Loved you as he watched you pull one of his old sweaters over your head before you walked out, bare legs still on show.

Loved you when he stepped into his living room after his shower to the smell of burnt toast and scrambled eggs and coffee.

Loved you as he watched you step onto a chair in the corner of his room, wet dishcloth in hand to remove the strings of dust you had scolded him over the night before.

Loved you as he felt what the sight of your stretched body, your bare tighs, and the little peep of your bum did to him inside of his boxers.

Loved you as he groaned and let his head fall onto the counter, having to breathe through it, because you were just cleaning his living room, and not giving him a sensual striptease act or whatever.

Loved you as you looked back over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows in surprised confusion before accusingly asking, “Really, Joe? Cleaning?”

Loved you as he stutteringly defended the blood rush down south by saying, “You have no idea what you look like right now.” into his elbow where he had to hide his face for a second.

Loved you, loved you.

He was hardly able to deny any of it.

And he didn’t feel that he had to, either.

Because, you were there. In his flat. In his clothes. Cleaning his dusty ceiling corners. And wasn’t that just something he wanted to tell the whole fucking world about?

That small little green grain of doubt and worry and negativity dried out and got no sunshine to really grow into anything. Thank fuck.

He got to ignore it for a while.

Forgot about it entirely, and pretended it wasn’t even there for a bit.

It was easy.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

Would tell you soon.

Didn’t know how.

Or where.

But he was going to say it.

He was going to use his words because he was just a normal guy who loved a normal girl and you weren’t being weirdly secretive about what you got up to in private. At least, not how you used to be, anyway.

Joe loved you.

You brought Joe flowers and cleaned his ceiling and wore his clothes and cooked his breakfast.

Joe loved you, even though your new flatmate Josh turned out to be impossibly good-looking in addition to being incredibly kind as well, so Joe didn’t even get to have a real reason to dislike him at all, which seemed unfair, but, all right.

Joe loved you, even when suddenly two shiny black acoustic guitars appeared on your living room wall, because Josh worked in music, and wasn’t that just so cool?

Joe loved you, even though his very first thought after that was, well I know how to play guitar too, don’t I?! which you had never even mentioned before.

Joe loved you, even when he walked into your flat one evening and interrupted a dinner you were having with Josh and one of your friends and, look, Josh cooked for us, and for the first time ever, he felt uninvited and intruding.

Joe loved you, even when your friend jokingly said, “You’re over here at lot for someone that moved out.” right to his face, to which you then heartily laughed, because she was only joking, Joe, and then you didn’t say anything about how you were together, but, you were together... weren’t you?

Joe loved you, even when he stuck to the bit and handed you his flat key like he always did, expecting to find it in his coat pocket later, but then ended up finding both his pockets empty when he went home the next morning, which, yea actually, that made sense, because Josh lived there now, and it was a little weird to have a key still, wasn’t it?

Joe loved you, even when you had told him to come over on Friday evening because you’d had a shit day at work, and for the first time ever, he had to ring the doorbell to get inside.

Joe loved you, even when Josh was the one that answered the door, and Josh almost didn’t let him in, telling him, “Oh, she’s fallen asleep on the sofa, mate.” to which Joe just smiled as he stepped around him, because what the fuck did Josh even know about falling asleep on the sofa in this flat?

Joe loved you, even when he found you asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket he’d never seen before, with an empty pizza box bar some crusts still on the coffee table, and you never ate a whole pizza yourself, so that was obviously shared with someone else.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

But there was a playstation besides the TV now, and a cool record player on the side, pile of vinyl next to it, and, God.

Joe fucking hated this.

Whatever was inside of Joe’s chest, that thing he didn’t even want in there, was growing.

Was getting fed without Joe even fully realising he was feeding it.

He hated those guitars. He hated that he no longer had a key. He hated that stupid blanket. And he hated that empty pizza box.

Still, he sat down beside you and placed your socked feet onto his lap. Watched the last scenes of whatever film you’d put on as he slowly kneaded a foot and let you sleep, and he tried his best to not get bitten. To not let it sink its teeth in. To not let it hurt.

It was silly.

Joe was being silly.

Rational thought saved him.

Rational thought told him he still loved you.

And he hoped rational thought was going to be enough.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[pumpk1n-writes]

Tell Me All About The Dark Places You Hide

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. stalking, in-depth descriptions of how the reader would murder someone, Billy uses “princess”, reader is a bit insane}

Part Two | Word Count ~ 720 (sorry, this one’s pretty short. The next few parts will be longer — this is more of an intro than an actual part and I was rushing to finish it)

The media you consume is your own responsibility and I will not be held accountable for your choices. I’m not going to block minors from this account, but proceed with caution anyway.

Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid

It was a normal Friday night for you, some old black and white horror movie on, parents gone, and homework lying forgotten about on the kitchen counter.

The phone behind you rang and you groaned, leaving it for a few moments before getting up to answer. “Who’s this?”

Somebody on the other end — clearly using a voice changer — began speaking. “Do you like scary movies?”

“Eh. I enjoy them but the suspension of disbelief needed for most of them is too much.”

“Oh? What do you mean by that?”

“Well, for one, the way that the killers in a lot of them actually do it is disappointing. They hardly toy with their victims and just straight up kill them. There’s hardly any fear, it’s just a single moment of blood and gore before it’s over.”

Billy grinned underneath his Ghostface mask. “You’re an interesting girl, what’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know that right now. What’s your favorite color?”

Without thinking Billy answered. “Red.”

“Like blood?”

“Sure, princess. Like blood.”

“Princess?”

Billy smirked again. “Well if you’re not going to tell me your name I have to find something to call you. You got a boyfriend?”

“Oh god no. They’re all toxic little shits that don’t know how to act. Besides, it’s too messy to clean up their blood.”

A beat of silence then; “For legal reasons, that was a joke.”

And all of a sudden, you were a much more fascinating person than Billy had ever imagined you would be to him. He wanted to know everything about you, all your strange little habits and personality traits that made you the way you are, your daily schedule, what your blood looked like spilled over his blade and hands.

“Hello?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’m still here. And I have more questions for you.”

“Well I’m getting kind of sleepy so hurry it up.”

Billy smiled to himself, using his binoculars to glance around your room. You sat up on your bed, playing with something he couldn’t see. You also — he noticed, blood pooling southward — were only wearing an oversized t-shirt.

“What would you do differently as the killer in those movies?” That wasn’t the question you’d expected. Maybe your favorite band or your least favorite food. Maybe your name again. But not how you would commit murder.

You thought for a moment, humming under your breath. “For one thing, I wouldn’t make it so obvious it was me. In a lot of those movies the audience is guessing who it is in the first five minutes. That wouldn’t be me. I’m pretty outgoing and bubbly around my friends anyway, so I wouldn’t really be a suspect. Plus, my friends say I’m wicked smart but no one can tell when they first meet me.”

Billy nodded to himself. That much was true. He would never have expected you, one of his classmates who sits next to him in English, to go so in depth on how not to get caught murdering people.

You kept going. “So I would play that up. Cry at any mention of my dead classmates, but not too much or it’ll get suspicious. I’d keep up the facade of ‘perfect student’ and act disgusted when anyone brings up how I killed them. That alone would help.”

Billy laughed. “You sound like you’ve thought about this a lot.” But secretly he was taking notes.

“Sorry, I get really bored sometimes, and this is just what my mind strays to.”

Really? This is what your sick, twisted mind thought up in your free time? He wondered how many times he’d glanced over at you in English and you were plotting his death, spaced out with a happy smile on your face.

“Keep going, princess.”

“Well that’s just how I wouldn’t get caught. The actual murders themselves I would make as grisly and gory as I could think of so people would think a sweet, innocent, ‘perfect’ girl could never commit them. I would maybe draw satanic symbols on the wall in their blood or something to throw off police. I would only kill crackheads or past criminals so that the police wouldn’t really care very much to solve it. And I would only kill weeks apart so that they don’t feel immediately threatened.”

“Jesus Christ,” Billy was mostly thinking to himself, but still. He was impressed.

He also thought he might be falling in love with you a little bit.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Part 2, chapter 6- eviction notice

Series masterlist

Warnings- This one’s a lot more jj centered, but some rafe and reader moments (: two exes still pining for each other Is my favorite

Summary: you’re finally back home, the pogues missed you and Rafe can’t get over you

A knock on the door interrupted your nightly routine, you sighed, standing up and opening the door.

“Hi.” You said, a little shocked at Rafe’s appearance this late.

“Okay, so…” he pushed past you, sitting down on the bed, next to you. “we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“You mean… back to Kildare?” You asked him.

He nodded. “I- I already asked if you could use a phone, but, my dad doesn’t really trust you right now. But… I can…” he sighed. “I can see if I can try and email one of them or something.“

You nodded at him. He stood up, going to the door before you called his name.

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at you.

“Thank you.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind as he walked back home. When he got there, he saw yellow tape on the door, along with an eviction notice. Going up with furrowed eyebrows, he held back tears.

“What?” He mumbled, confused. You told him that you were paying for it, that you were just staying at Ricky’s because you couldn’t bear to be at the house. Not because you lost it.

He looked on the back when he saw some marker bleed through, you had written on it.

“I’m sorry, JJ.” You scrawled out on it, he saw some tear stains on the paper as well. With a small sigh, tears threatening to spill, he entered through the window, grabbing the pills from the counter, sitting on the couch, and throwing them.

He ran his hands over his face, beginning to cry into them while taking a sip of the beer his dad had left.

He was outside, fixing his bike with Kiara came up behind.

“Eviction notice. For like, non payment or whatever. My sister didn’t even tell me.” He stood up, facing her now. He sighed, looking back at the house.

“Doesn’t matter. This place sucks anyway. Great to be back in the outer banks, right?”

“So get this. I uh, had an email waiting for me when I got home. John B actually found Big John. He’s alive..”

JJ paused, turning his head to Kiara now.

“Seriously?”

Kiara nodded. “Yeah. He’s at the Chateau.”

JJ smiled, standing up again. “Damn.”

“Yeah, he thinks we’re close to the same treasure Singh was talking about.”

JJ nodded, sniffling as he grabbed a towel.

“Hey, look. My parents didn’t even wanna let me out of the house. But I told them I had to come check on you.”

“Well, it’s not me you have to worry about.” He exhaled.

“JayJ, what’s up? Is it something Pope said? I know he’s not all obsessed about what happened between me and him. We’re both past that, but something’s bugging you. And it’s not just your sister.”

“It was just weird, what almost happened on the boat with us. It was just weird.” He said, inhaling.

“Yeah, Yeah, I mean it was… it was weird for me too, but… not bad weird.”

“No. Not bad weird.” He came closer to her, the both of them staring at each other.

“What are we doing?” He asked, heart picking up. “What are we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this, nah.” He repeated, moving his face away from hers, walking away. “We shouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah..”

“We shouldn’t!”

“If you say so.”

“I mean, it would like all blow up anyway. You know? Like…” he panted. “Look at you. You got your new threads on, look at me what do I got? This?” He pointed to the house. “This piece of shit?!” He picked up a rock, throwing it at the house.

“Getting kicked out of this place in like a week anyways. Shit, I don’t got parents right now, or my sister. Why would you care? Why would you care? I’m just some loser that- that-“ he stuttered.

“jj…”

“You don’t do care.”

“I do-“

“No, you don’t!”

“I do care!” She argued.

“No, you got parents that live in figure 8, you know? You know… you…”

“That’s not my fault.”

“That’s your future. You got that.” He walked away again, his hands on the back of his head.

“Look if you need us, we’re gonna help you. I’m… I’ll help.”

“It’s that right there! Okay? Like- it’s so easy for you to say that. You know why? Because you’re a kook. You’re a kook, Kiara!”

She nodded, looking down. “Yeah, I’m a kook. I was such a kook when I was living in a cave with you for a month. Soaking in the kook life.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. God!” He threw on his hat, getting on his bike, and starting the engine.

“JayJ, don’t leave.”

He didn’t listen, just ran away. The only thing he knew how to do.

On the dock, he paced, staring out, even breaking it and throwing things down, kicking and throwing shit.

He paused, looking over you sleeping for a moment. You looked peaceful. He missed this. He would do anything if it meant he could have you so peaceful like that with him again.

It would take time, though. Even Rafe knew that.

“Rise and shine,” Rafe spoke, hitting your shoulder to wake you up.

You mumbled something incoherently, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up with a yawn.

When you opened your eyes, you had a small smile at the sight of the island. Finally.

His eyes were set on you, while you looked out at the island.

When you got to Tannyhill, you helped Rafe with the boat and went up the dock.

Rafe lead you to to the front, both of you standing in front of each other now.

“Thanks, again.” You told him, staring into his baby blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off.

“You know, Rafe, you could be a really good man when you try.” You told him when you began to walk away.

He rolled his eyes, a small smile gracing his features when you turned. “Whatever.”

But when you left, you spotted Sarah leaving as well.

“Sarah?” You questioned, making her turn to you.

She said your name, her tone confused and shocked.

“Holy shit, y/n?!” Kiara practically shouted when you came up on the boat with Sarah. You smiled at her, and she came up and embraced you.

“Hey, Kie.” You said with a laugh,

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to push you off-“

“It’s fine. I know.” You shrugged.

“I went to go grab some clothes and a phone, and I found her, but…”

“Rafe is back.” You finished her sentence.”And the cross is coming back. To Wilmington tomorrow night. I heard him on the phone yesterday.”

“And I heard him not that long ago.”

“What?” She looked at Sarah and back at you.

“I was gonna tell Pope at the Chateau.”

“He can’t. He’s on lockdown.”

“Okay, um… then.. I’ll hit up Pope, and then maybe you go to the Chateau and tell John B. And JJ?”

Kiara swallowed at that.

“Wait, is he.. at the chateau?” You asked them.

Kiara shrugged. “I don’t know. He blew up on me earlier. He… uh.. was at the house.”

“Shit..” you murmured.

JJ pulled up to the Chateau, whistling for John B. You stood up, Kiara was inside, not wanting to intrude on you two.

“JJ.” You spoke quietly.

He turned around at the sound of your voice. He whispered your name, repeating it louder now as he came up to you.

He wrapped his arms around you, tears falling down his face.

“Holy shit. You’re- you’re-“

“Yeah.” You laughed, tears falling down your own face now.

“You didn’t tell me we got evicted. I would- I would have helped..” he told you, looking at your face now.

“I didn’t want you to. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You shook your head feverishly. “I’m saving up for a better house, now.”

He smiled and shook his head again.

“I missed you so much, dude.” He said, pulling you in for another hug.

Kiara came out, waiting. He turned to Kiara now, clearing his throat and wiping his tears.

“Is uh… John B not here?” He asked with a sigh.

“Nope.”

Kiara cleared her throat, cutting through the awkward silence.

“What’s up?”

“Uh, Rafes what’s up.” Kiara spoke.

“He’s back on the island, JJ.” You continued her sentence. “He said he’s staying for a little, for business or some shit.”

“Spectacular.” He said sarcastically.

“It’s not just that. I overheard him saying the cross is coming into Wilmington tomorrow. Wards trying to sell it.” You said.

“Great. Does Pope know?”

“Yeah. Sarah went to tell him. He’s locked down.” Kiara told him. “And I guess John B and his dad went and got the Twinkie. They’re off to God knows where.” Kiara handed him the envelope.

“Yeah, of course. Just when we need them.” He threw his hands up, staring out into the water.

“Wait, hold on though.” He stopped, turning to you both now. “We know where the cross is gonna be. That means it’s still on the field. Okay, alright. So we can come in and swoop, we’re still in this. We gotta get everybody together, then we’ll come up with a plan. Get our asses to Wilmington.”

Kiara looked at you. You urged her as he walked away.

“Hey, hey, JJ, before we can formulate some crazy plan, can we talk?” Kiara spoke, catching up to him.

JJ took a deep breath, talking was never really his thing.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.”

“Something almost happened. Between us on the boat.”

“Mmm-hmm..”

“And I know that’s got to freak you out. It caught me off guard too. And I know, your whole life, I know you freak when people get close, and I get it. I don’t blame you.”

He looked away, because he knew she was right.

“Just please don’t ever say that I don’t care about you. And you called me a kook…”

“Okay, well, hold on-“ he started.

“Which is lame.”

“I know. That was lame..”

“It was uncalled for. Yeah, it’s a low blow.”

“All right, Kie. Look, Kie,” he put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right. I flipped. You know how I be. Just uh.. just… look. We should just… just call it a truce. Just.. etch a sketch it. Clean slate. Truce?”

“Truce.” She held her hand out.

“So, how we gonna jack this cross?” You came up to them suddenly, both of them jumping at you.

“Jesus! You just got back and you’re already trying to give me a heart attack?”

don’t like this chapter too much ugh

Tag list:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

[kinkyliterotica]

(This image belong to Sony and I do not claim ownership of it)

(Part 2)

Venom x OC Period Sex Smut

Summary: Shannon unexpectedly starts her period, Venom has a creative solution.

Warnings: Period sex, blood play, oral sex, rough sex, rough penetration

———

Shannon, Eddie, and Venom had formed a much more intimate bond since their first night together. The initial lust was strong, and Shannon’s chemistry with Venom was substantial. There were moments when Eddie felt like he’d been sidelined by his own Symbiote.

He tried to remember that he fronted most of the time, Venom had little time and space to be free. Perhaps he owed Venom this.

That evening, Eddie invited Shannon over to cook. He was not an excellent chef, but he was eager to try. Anne had done most of the cooking during their relationship, and he was ready to prove himself as a partner.

Eddie was pan frying sausage while Venom mixed pancake batter. Shannon rang the doorbell, and Venom dropped the bowl on the counter, and extended himself to answer the door.

“Hello Darling.” Venom greeted her.

Shannon moved smoothly past Venom, “Hey, sorry I have to use the restroom. Give me a sec.”

Venom was caught off guard. Eddie had to remind him to close and lock the door. Venom’s wide white eyes watched Shannon as she headed to the bathroom. Eddie continued cooking, shaking the pan to flip the sausages.

“There is something wrong, can’t you feel it?” Venom asked Eddie, his head floating next to him.

Eddie dismissed him, “What’re you talking about? She just had to use the bathroom.”

“Listen to me Eddie, I smell blood.” Venom ground out.

That got Eddie’s attention. He killed the heat on the pan, and turned his attention towards Shannon. He rushed down the hall and knocked on the door.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” Eddie asked. Venom pressed his head against the door to listen.

Shannon sighed, “Yes, I’m fine.”

Eddie didn’t want to drop this issue, he pressed on, “Venom said he smelled blood.”

Shannon was irritated, “Could I get a little privacy please?”

Eddie held his tongue, he didn’t want to piss her off, but he needed to know what was going on.

“Just tell me, are you hurt? Should I be worried?” Eddie’s voice was laced with concern.

Suddenly Shannon pulled open the door, her underwear and pants were around her ankles. On the crotch of the pants there was a puddle of red. She had fresh red blood dripping down her legs. Her brows were drawn together in frustration.

Shannon’s voice was frantic, “I started my fucking period 3 days early, I don’t have any spare clothes, and I’m bleeding everywhere!”

Eddie couldn’t hold back his laugh. He hunched forward and gripped his stomach. The laughter burst from him.

“Oh shit,” Eddie exclaimed, “I thought it was something serious.”

Shannon’s mouth formed a dangerous looking frown.

“This is serious for me Eddie.” She said between clenched teeth, “It’s humiliating. I’m a grown woman.”

Eddie realized his reaction was less than ideal, “Sorry, sorry. Let me run down to the store and grab you some stuff alright? I did it for Annie all the time. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

Before Shannon could respond, Venom consumed him. Enveloping his form, and growing around Eddie.

“What a waste. Why not let me solve your problem?” Venom purred.

His tongue lashed out, flicking through the air. Saliva dripped from it and landed on the vinyl floor beneath them.

Shannon’s brows hit the ceiling. She had not expected this kind of reaction. She stumbled back, her hand grabbing the sink for support.

“What–what do you mean, Venom?” Her voice, a moment ago so full of anger, had faded down to a meek whimper.

Venom’s enormous black arms wrapped around her, forcing her down on top of the toilet. Her bare ass shivered against the cold porcelain. Her pants and underwear were still around her ankles.

“Sit back, relaaaaaaax…” Venom’s voice was equal parts hypnotic and eerie.

His hands were so large they easily closed around her biceps. His huge body was crammed between the wall and the toilet. He got onto his knees, his head hovered right above her bleeding cunt.

Her flow had just started, the blood was fresh, and quickly pooling inside of her. It leaked out of her hole just a bit.

Venom smiled, his teeth bared, enormous and terrifying. The tip of his tongue traced his lips like he was about to devour his favorite meal. His wide white eyes looked up at Shannon’s face for a moment. There was lust there, so much lust it frightened her.

All at once his tongue dove into her. The blood inside of her made a noticeable SQUELCH. It didn’t stop Venom from digging the fat muscle futher inside. He was moaning, growling. He withdrew for just a moment, her blood coated his tongue. He swallowed it, sighing contentedly.

“What a treat!” Venom said, “I want more.”

Before Shannon could respond, his tongue was back inside of her. Exploring her folds, and lapping up all of the blood. She couldn’t hold back her own moans. Her voice was foreign to her, full of meekness and hesitation.

It did feel good. Extremely good. But all the same it was strange, this was not what she’d been expecting. She knew that Venom had eaten people before, but she didn’t know about his affinity for blood drinking. It was entirely new to her, she’d never had a guy fetishize something like that. She wondered for a moment how Eddie felt about this, if he was enjoying himself, or just allowing Venom to indulge himself. Either way, it felt too good for her to risk stopping it. Venom was fronting, so she had to trust him.

Venom’s grip on her tightened, he was truly ravenous. The blood continued to flow from her hole, and Venom drank it like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Shannon writhed and moaned as his tongue played with her cunt. The tip traced along her folds, leaving no part untouched.

Shannon was shivering, her body unable to resist but struggling to find comfort or purchase on the seat.

“The taste of fresh blood,” Venom’s voice was deep, “There is nothing like it. Eddie does not want to scare you, but you’re not scared, are you?”

Shannon cried out, “No, no, please, keep going!”

“Yes, yes, this is all mine. There is no shame, I want all of it.”

Venom lifted her up, holding her hips and ass in his enormous hands. He buried his face in her cunt. She grasped his head for support, nearly hitting the wall. She could barely register the sensation of his tongue lapping at her pussy. He was moving so fast, she was afraid his teeth would puncture her. She wrapped her arms around his head, trying to keep herself upright.

Venom’s pace was torturous. The sounds he made were primal and deep. Eddie was in there somewhere, but now, there was only Venom.

Venom pulled his tongue out of her. She let out a held breath, tears coming to her eyes. She was shivering, her heart racing beneath her breast.

“I want more. I’ll have to speed things along.”

Venom’s hands ran up her ass, along her back, until he held her upright entirely with his own hands. He slid her down onto the floor carefully, making sure she didn’t hit the door or the counter. When Shannon was about to get her bearings, Venom’s tentacles slithered out. His tentacles wrapped around his midsection, lifting her from the ground once again. Just enough that she could be flipped over onto her knees. Her hands came up to support herself, but one of Venom’s hands pushed her down.

Her ass was prone in the air, her cheek pressed against the fuzzy rug on the floor. Her arms were tucked under her form, no space to move, she was trapped. Before fear could overcome her, Venom used one of his thick long tentacles to prepare her cunt for him. It pressed in and out of her, stretching further, going deeper. The friction on the inside of her walls was maddening, she ground against him. The tentacle suddenly swelled, pushing the limits of what her cunt could take.

“Venom, please don’t break me!” She begged.

Venom purred, the appendage stretching her did not let up, but he did slow the pace down. He gently entered, and pulled out, dragging out the sensation. His form fell over her like a shadow. His mouth was by her ear.

“I will not break you, but I will make you bleed. Again and again for me.” His voice was a promise.

The tentacle slid out of her entrance, and was quickly replaced with the tip of his cock. The head was so much larger from the back, she knew that in this position she would be the most vulnerable. She tried to take a deep breath, and steady herself. But when his dark head pressed into her heat, she whimpered.

It hurt. It hurt so much. His girth was inhuman. There was nothing that could soften this. She knew by now that enduring was the best she could do until her walls adjusted. Her cunt would learn to take him eventually.

Venom let out a dark laugh. The sound rumbled in his chest, and vibrated against her back. She wondered what had caused him to laugh, but in a moment she felt it. When his tip hit her cervix, he had caused another wave of fresh blood to flow. She was bleeding on in, because of him. It lubricated her tight hole, and provided some relief.

Venom teased, “You’re coating my cock with your sweet red juices. Such a filthy Human.”

His hips drove into her, forcing her tits to drag across the small bathroom rug. Her pelvis strained from the effort of Venom slamming into her. Venom was primal now. Growing and drooling and using all of his strength to hurt her, just enough to make her bleed once again for him.

She wondered if Venom could keep this up all night.

[heytheredelulu]

Imagine nomad Steve is reader’s possessive boyfriend and she just wants to rile him up by making him think she’s been cheating on him with Bucky.

Also Bucky smokes in this because I said so.

Like Sin

Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Content Warning: Language and a lil blood

You fumbled with the knob at the front door of your apartment, the dim light in the breezeway coupled with the whiskey you’d drank only making it harder for you to slot the little silver key into the lock. Just as you had finally succeeded, the lock clicked before you could turn your key and you drew your hands back, looking up as your very angry boyfriend yanked the door open.

Steve glared down at you with his arms folded across his broad chest. “You’re late.” He states sternly, stepping aside to allow you entry. “Where the hell were you? You haven’t answered a single one of my texts all night.” He asks, leaning against the wall in the foyer as you tossed your keys on the table.

“I told you I was going to happy hour with some of the others.” You say with a hint of annoyance, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, happy hour.” He repeats with equal annoyance. “It’s nearly 1 in the morning.” He scolds. You lose the fight and finally roll your eyes as you perch on the arm of the couch to take your shoes off. “Okay, happy ‘hours’, then.” You mumble, tossing one shoe towards the shoe rack.

“And you didn’t think to text me back? You’ve been gone for hours and haven’t even bothered to check in.” He points out, uncrossing his arms as his lips curve downward into a frown.

You sigh and pull off your other shoe, tossing it to land near the other as you look up at him. “Steve, I was with our friends. If I’m out socializing I’m not going to just sit and stare at my phone, it’s rude. It’s not my fault that you didn’t want to come out with us.” You counter, standing up.

“It’s rude?” He asks, incredulously. “And it’s not rude to ignore your boyfriend all night and keep him up late, worried sick?”

“You’re being dramatic.” You mumble, unzipping your coat and walking over towards the coat rack, where he was still leaned up against the wall.

He sucks his teeth at your comment and nods, eyeing you up and down. “I’m not being dramatic.”

You scoff, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up. “Yes, you are. If you were so worried about me going out without you, you should’ve come along.”

He opens his mouth to respond but his eyes flick over to your coat pocket and he steps away from the wall, reaching into it and fishing out a pack of cigarettes. He turns the pack over in his hand as his eyes narrow in recognition.

This is Bucky’s brand of cigarettes.

“Who were you with again?” He asks, not looking up from the smokes in his hand.

You’re in the kitchen at this point, getting a glass from the cabinet and is unaware of the bomb in his hand that was ticking towards an inevitable explosion. “Tony, Nat, Bruce. A few others from the team.” You call out, filling your glass with water from the sink.

Steve steps into the kitchen and crushes the pack of cigarettes in his fist before tossing it onto the table. “And Bucky?” He asks, though it wasn’t much of a question.

You glance over at him mid drink and swallow, setting the glass down slowly. “He’s part of the group, yeah?” You question, brow furrowing as you look to the crushed pack of smokes now discarded on the table.

“Why do you have his shit in your pockets?” He asks, his expression hardening.

“I don’t know, Steve. I probably just picked them up with my things when I was leaving. You know sometimes I smoke when I’m drinking.”

He places both hands on the kitchen table, the muscles in his arms flexing as he leans forward and lowers his voice. “You were alone with him, weren’t you?”

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m sure at some point, yeah. I was alone with Nat at some point too.” You argue.

He slams his fist down on the table, the legs shaking in response to the assault.

“You were alone with him!” He shouts.

“What the hell is your problem?” You yell in return, throwing up your hands in frustration.

“My problem is that you were alone with Bucky.” He growls.

You tilt your head curiously. “And the problem with that is what? Your own insecurity? Your jealousy is showing Steve, and it’s not attractive.”

He bows his head and sucks in a deep breath before lifting his gaze to meet yours in a menacing stare.

“I am not insecure. I see the way he looks at you.” He whispers harshly. “And I’ve seen the way you are around him.”

He leans back and steps around the table, slowly moving into your space as he backs you against the wall.

“Who knows what the two of you do when I’m not around.” He says, "You could be flirting, you could be touching him, hell-" His voice drops to an almost inaudible whisper "you could be fucking him." His eyes flash dangerously as he leans his face closer to yours.

"Excuse me?" You ask, your face contorting in anger. "What the hell did you just accuse me of?"

He grits his teeth, and slams his palm against the wall behind your head. "Don't you try to play innocent with me. I know you two get a little too friendly with one another and I'm sick of it!" He yells.

"I'm not playing innocent, I'm asking you to look me in the face and repeat what you just fucking said, Steve!" You shout, your eyebrows knitting in anger.

He glares at you for a long moment before speaking in a low voice laced with quiet rage.

"I think you're fucking Bucky." He says, taking a threatening step towards you.

"Oh, do you?" You ask, your voice dripping with mockery.

"Yes, I do." He says through clenched teeth.

You shake your head and laugh in disbelief. "Wow,” you breathe out. “So is that what you think I was doing tonight? You think I was out fucking Bucky?"

His glare never falters. A muscle in his jaw twitches as his hands curl into fists. "That’s exactly what I think." He whispers harshly.

You lick your lips and cross your arms as the corners of your mouth twitch up into a cruel smirk. "Maybe I was. Why don't you kiss me baby? Tell me if you can taste his cock on my tongue." You dare, looking up at him in defiance.

His eyes widen as you issues him the challenge. At first he doesn't react, but then without warning he closes the gap between you both, pressing himself against you and crashing his lips into yours. He takes your mouth in a rough, punishing kiss, his lips moving against yours fueled with all his pent-up rage and jealousy.

You kiss him back angrily, violently as you parts your lips, deepening the kiss and meeting his tongue with your own in a dance of dominance. You break the kiss abruptly, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth as your pull away, nipping hard enough to draw blood as you lean back and look up at him with your chest heaving.

He releases you with a gasp and glances down at you in confusion as he tastes blood. It takes him a moment to speak. “Did you just bite me?” He asks, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he stares at you with a mix of shock and arousal.

You reach up and cup his jaw roughly with your hand, tracing your thumb along the curve of his bottom lip, smearing the blood across it. "Is that what you're worried about?" You ask in a low voice "You aren't going to tell me how your best friend tastes?"

His breath catches as a shiver crawls its way up his spine and he meets your gaze narrowing his eyes.

"What did you just say?" He whispers, leaning forward and pressing his bloodied lip against your thumb.

You let your thumb slip between his lips pressing it down on his tongue as you hold his gaze, then you withdraw it and pinch his cheeks, saliva wet against his skin "I asked you a fucking question." You repeat dangerously "How does Bucky taste?"

His eyes darken as he looks down at you. He can’t help but notice the subtle way your voice changes when you say his best friend's name; Just like how he can’t help but notice how it makes his heart race and a heat spread in the pit of his stomach when you do it.

He shakes his head to clear the thought.

"I'm not justifying that with an answer." He says, swallowing the lump forming in his throat.

You lean in towards his ear, your breath hot as it fans across his skin. "I will." You whisper, sucking a finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it before reaching to run the wet digit down his neck "Like sin."

[jackhues]

in love love - alex lyon

notes: this is part of @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange, and written for the amazing @2manytabsopen !! this is my first time writing for alex and honestly first time writing in a while, but i had lots of fun with this and i really hope you like it <33

summary: 3 times the world realized alex was in love with you + the 1 time you realized it

word count: 2.7k

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

gif not mine

i.

you and alex had known each other your whole lives. as long as you could remember, it was you and him. sure, you both had friends that came and went, but at the end of it all, it was the two of you who made it through.

you made it through your elementary years, all the way to college, and now even beyond. despite graduating early, alex was still in contact with many of the friends you both made in university. it was a good thing too, because you could just go together to all the events you were invited to.

“i don’t know what i was thinking, making so many friends,” you muttered to yourself, nursing your drink.

it was late at night, and you were no longer the same person you’d been at college. instead of pulling all-nighters and partying with the crowd, you wanted to be in bed once it was dark.

“are you tired?” alex turned to face you. “we can go home if you want.”

“that’s okay,” you smiled tiredly at the tall boy. “it’s not like we get to meet up with them often. it’s been a long time since we were all out. we can stay.”

“you sure, love?” he asked, eyebrows knit in concern. “you look ready to drop.”

“i’m fine,” you promised. at his unconvinced look, you continued, “really, i’m okay. i think i just need another drink.”

“i’ll get you one,” he offered immediately, heading up to the counter to get your drink.

unbeknownst to you, some of your college friends were giggling to each other, wondering if the two of you were finally together.

“i mean, they have to be, right?” one of them whispered. “they’ve both got heart eyes for each other.”

“alex isn’t even trying to hide it,” another one laughed a little. “good for them, i guess. i always knew he liked her.”

you smiled once alex returned with your favourite drink, handing it to you. 

“a special drink, for a special lady,” he grinned.

“thank you,” you took it from him, taking a sip. 

indeed, all you needed was a little something in your system to get you going. you took alex’s hand, leading him to the dance floor where you ended up spending most of the night.

after some time, alex broke away from you, drifting to the edge of the dance floor and allowing himself a moment to admire you.

“so? you two finally together, huh?” one of alex’s old teammate’s wiggled his brows, sliding up next to the goalie. 

“what? me and y/n? no — no, we’re just friends,” alex insisted. 

“oh, really?” he asked, looking between the two of you. “i guess i haven’t seen you guys in so long, i forgot how close you were.”

alex nodded, despite the lump in his throat, before excusing himself to get some air.

your friends exchanged glances at that interaction — at alex running away, and at you now dancing with another friend, clueless to it all.

“well shit,” one of them muttered. “he’s in love with her, and he knows it.”

“but does she?”

ii.

“here, let me get that for you.”

“thank you,” you smiled as alex took the plates from your hands, placing them in the sink.

you were at a family friends house, inviting alex along to celebrate with them. since most of your family lived further away, you often celebrated the holidays and other events with them. alex was someone you’d known your entire life, and by extension, your family and family friends knew about him too.

after years of trying to convince you to bring him along to one of these gatherings, you finally caved in. it wasn’t that you were embarrassed of alex. if anything, you were a little embarrassed of your family friends.

not in a bad way. they were just loud and talkative and much more rowdy than alex’s family. you were worried how well he’d fit in if he came along.

so far, he had proved you wrong, getting along with absolutely everyone there. the younger kids kept trying to steal him to play games, the older aunts and uncles doted on him — everyone loved him.

you took the broom out, getting ready to sweep around the house a little. everyone was busy cleaning up after themselves or gossipping with each other. might as well make yourself useful.

“here, let me do that,” alex appeared next to you, reaching for the broom.

“it’s alright, i got it,” you assured him. “besides, you’re the guest. go sit and talk with the older people. i’ve got this.”

“y/n,” he said your name in a strict tone. “give me the broom, i’ll sweep up around here. you’ve been on your feet all day, take a seat and let me do this.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, realizing he wasn’t going to budge. “okay, go grab the dustpan. i’ll sweep, you collect it, okay?”

alex sighed, “all right, fine. but you’re sitting down and hanging out with everyone after this. no more work for you.”

“alex, that’s not how it works—”

“if someone needs you to do a chore, i’ll step in,” he said in a strict tone. he softened his voice, “you did a lot today, okay? i can do a little bit of work around here too. i’m not entirely useless, you know?”

you laughed a little, “i can think of multiple instances where you were entirely useless.”

“right now,” alex amended. “i know how to sweep and do the dishes and stuff. i couldn’t help you out in the morning, but i can now. so let me, please.”

“okay, okay,” you raised your hands in surrender. “i’ll sweep and then take a seat. happy?”

“very,” he grinned, happy that he’d finally won this argument.

behind you, one of your cousins shared a look with their sibling, wondering if anyone else just saw what happened.

“that’s so weird,” one of them whispered. 

“i wonder how long it’ll take for them to get married,” another thought aloud.

“oh, he’s in love love,” another one muttered.

they looked at you, sweeping the floor with a little smile on your face, and behind you, alex watching you with the same smile on his face. it was so painfully obvious, just by the way he watched you.

“i hope she realizes it soon.”

iii.

“come on, come on, come on,” you grabbed alex’s hand, pulling him along.

there was a new cafe that opened down the street, and based on the reviews, it had some really nice hot chocolate. alex was the one who’d found their page on instagram, forwarding the message to you.

so of course, you dragged him along for your first visit.

the interior of the cafe was chic, with a checkerboard floor and a cozy interior. you immediately claimed one of the couches at the store, scanning the qr code for the menu.

before you even opened it up, alex spoke, “you’re getting a hot chocolate?”

“i didn’t even look at the menu yet,” you rolled your eyes. 

“yeah, but it’s why you came here, right?” he asked. “to try their french hot chocolate?”

you opened your mouth to argue, but simply sighed. “yeah, that’s why i came here.”

“that’s what i thought,” a satisfied smirk appeared on alex’s face. “so, one french hot chocolate for you, and one cinnamon hot chocolate for me.”

you gave him a thumbs up in approval, letting him place the order at the counter while you saved your seats. you pulled out your phone, scrolling a little as you waited for alex to return.

near your seat, an older woman smiled to herself, waving to her own husband at the counter giving their order. she remembered their earlier days together, when her husband first learned her order and immediately went to the counter. it might be a really small thing to someone else, but she’d associated that act with his love for her. she wondered if one day you’d do the same thing with alex.

“i’m back,” alex announced his return as he took a seat next to you.

“yes, i can see that,” you replied. 

he flicked your forehead, “congrats, you have eyes.”

“you’re such a child,” you laughed.

“you’re just jealous because you’ll be old and wrinkly while i stay young and hot.”

the two of you kept it together for three seconds, before bursting out into laughter.

your waitress smiled to herself, placing your drinks on the table in front of you. the cafe was new and it didn’t get many customers yet. seeing you two in here laughing loudly warmed her heart.

she wished she’d get to experience that kind of love one day, with someone who looked at her the way alex looked at you. as if he’d seen the entire world and decided you were his favourite thing in it.

“enjoy your drinks,” she smiled at you two, heading back.

“thank you,” you smiled at her, reaching for your hot chocolate.

you smiled at the sight of how delicious the hot chocolate looked, reaching towards it as if it were gold. to you, it might’ve been.

the second you took that first sip, you sighed in content, melting back into the couch and closing your eyes.

“so, it’s delicious?” alex asked, taking a sip of his own. he blinked in surprise, “okay, wow. this is pretty good. you know, y/n, i think you were onto something when you fell into that hot chocolate obsession.”

“i’m always right,” you grinned, turning your head to look at him.

alex caught his breath at the sight of you. after all these years, and you still managed to make him speechless with just a look.

“always,” he merely agreed.

you smiled triumphantly, going back to your drink. around you, the people whispered — they always whispered the same thing, but you never heard it.

“they’re so cute,” one person would whisper.

“oh, he’s so in love with her,” another would say.

“too bad she doesn’t even know it,” one would sigh.

“she knows it, she just doesn’t realize it,” another would respond. “she doesn’t even realize how in love she is with him.”

and alex would hear it all, and he’d keep his mouth shut. because whether you knew or whether you didn’t wasn’t the question.

the question was whether you’d do anything once you did realize.

iv.

you looked at your caller i.d., trying not to cry at the sight of alex’s face.

even though you saw him a day ago, the sight of him was so comforting to you. especially after the shit day that you were having at work.

“hello,” you answered, wanting nothing more than to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

“hey — wait, what’s wrong?” he asked. you could imagine the furrow in his brow, the exact face he was making as he continued. “are you crying? y/n, are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you promised, taking a deep breath. “it’s just — it’s been a long day alex. i’m happy you called, i needed to hear your voice.”

“anytime,” alex responded immediately. “i’m always here for you, you know?”

“i know,” you smiled to yourself, because he was. “what’s up with you though? why’d you call?”

“i was just calling because i was bored,” he responded a little sheepishly. “i wanted to bother you a bit.”

“instead you’re comforting me,” you laughed a little.

“it’s an honour to do so,” he responded, followed by a small thwack sound. you laughed, imagining him pounding his chest to play the part, even though you couldn’t even see him.

the two of you continued talking for a bit, until you finally ended the call. you took a deep breath, looking at the time on your phone. two more hours, and then you were free.

--

you locked the door behind you, placing your bag and keys down. 

you were finally home, and ready to put this long day behind you. except now that you were inside, you could hear some noise from somewhere in your house. music was playing softly and a familiar voice was singing along. the smell of something baking made its way to you — banana bread, you thought happily. after a long day, you needed something like that to cheer you up.

you followed the source of the noise, stopping at the sight of alex in the kitchen making banana bread and singing along to the song. you watched him for a minute, smiling to yourself as he spun around and put on a little show.

when the song ended, you clapped, laughing as alex jumped at the sudden noise.

“bravo, that was beautiful!” you cheered. “encore, encore, encore!”

“ah, as much as ii would love to do so for my wonderful fans, the banana bread i am baking for a very wonderful woman will burn if i don’t take it out now,” he spoke in a posh accent before reaching into the oven, pulling the tray out and setting it to cool.

you looked around at the kitchen, noticing for the first time how spotless it was. you’d left some dishes this morning because you were in a rush, and you were pretty sure you made a mess last night while cooking dinner. you were normally pretty clean, but you were just in a lazy mood these past few days.

“did you clean the kitchen?” you asked alex.

he looked up at you, shrugging to himself, “yeah. when you said you had a bad day, i wanted to make you feel a little bit better. so i came over, cleaned a bit, and cooked.”

“thank you,” you whispered, your heart heavy with too many unspoken emotions.

“you’d do the same for me,” alex shrugged.

it was true. you had done and would continue to do the same thing for him. people often thought you two were just friends, but you were so much more than that. you were everything for the other. alex was the one you’d run to when you got good news or bad news. you were the one alex would find for comfort or to share his joy.

you never questioned it, but you finally realized that somewhere along the way, with the jokes and the laughter and the unbreakable friendship, love had also blossomed.

“y/n?” alex called your name. “are you okay?”

you blinked up at him, realizing that you’d basically zoned out in the middle of the kitchen. lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t know how to reply.

and so you blurted out, “are you in love with me?”

alex froze, staring at you for long enough that you began to wonder if you wildly miscalculated. maybe those lingering gazes and longer than necessary hugs were something you imagined. maybe you two were just friends in his eyes. 

“and if i was?” he asked, he met your eyes, not a hint of hesitation in them. “if i was in love with you for as long as i could remember, longer than i even knew what the word meant? that i’ve been waiting for you to notice for years now? what would you say?”

you looked at him, trying to tell if he was joking. it didn’t look like he was. 

“i’d say why didn’t you tell me years ago?” you responded honestly. “that way, we’d already be past then. and then… and then i’d tell you to kiss me already because i’ve been in love with you for a long time too.”

alex stared at you, trying to figure out if you’d actually just said that. you hear practically the gears turning in his head, you could imagine the questions he was asking himself.

“it’s not a dream,” you smiled, answering his biggest one.

“oh thank god,” he muttered to himself, reaching you in two long strides.

you gasped as his hands grabbed your waist, your own arms reaching up to grab his shirt. without a moment of hesitation, alex leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss just as sweet as the confession.

oh, he’s in love, you thought to yourself with a little smile.

it’s okay, because so were you.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Bartender!Kyle x gn!reader Part 3 I feel like this once again turned out kinda sucky but whatevs. Not proofread because my eyes hurt. Part 2 | COD Masterlist | (Part 4)

You’re a joy to have around. Kyle wants to congratulate himself for impulsively hiring you and he wants to thank whoever fired you because they drove you right into his arms and bar. You’re damn good at your job.

Despite how you being fired made it seem like you’re rude, you’re not. You’re absolutely professional and he’s noticed his usual patrons appreciate you being around. Sometimes they appreciate it a bit too much, trying to get close but you can more than handle yourself. Whatever happened that made you react in a way that got you fired must have been serious, because despite your potty mouth you’ve never cursed at someone.

Kyle finds himself being intrigued by you more and more. You’re not a sunshine kind of person, rather aloof but never cold or unfriendly. Every day when you put on your apron he also witnesses you slipping on your work persona, watches you consciously soften your expression although you don’t do the big fake smiles.

He’s behind the counter, cleaning some glasses and keeping his ears on the conversations while he watches you bring a round of drinks to a table in the far corner. The apron suits you and your cute appearance. His head still has a hard time wrapping around the contrast between your appearance and your way of talking. Why does that appeal to him so much?

Then he notices one of them men at the table putting his hand on your waist when you put their drinks down and he immediately makes his way from behind the counter throwing the towel he just used over his shoulder. As he draws closer he can hear your calm voice.

“Hands off.”, you dryly demand.

He’s impressed by your ability to sound so calm yet commanding. You would make a fine soldier, hell with that tone you’d make Price proud. It makes no rational sense but you straighten up and he can practically feel your personal space turn cold and unwelcoming.

The man takes his hand off your waist and raises both in surrender. “Sorry, pretty, just wanted to see if you feel as good as you look.”

Kyle comes to a halt slightly in front of you a too bright smile on his face, a bearing of teeth, a threat. “Everything okay here?”, he asks pleasantly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah Kyle. Just a misunderstanding.”, the man, Jackie one of his regulars, explains slightly frantic at the fact that Kyle caught the interaction. Kyle looks at you. You meet his eyes and subtly nod.

Kyle steps slightly closer to the man moving into his personal space and braces his arm on the table. “You know Jackie, you’re one of my favorite customers, I’d hate to have more of these misunderstandings because that would mean you can’t come back here.”

Jackie shakes his head. “Yeah, no of course. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Kyle straightens back up and nods at the group, his eyes sharp as he meets each of their gazes a subtle threat in his. His hand is slow and gentle when he puts it on the small of your back, giving you time to step away in case you don’t want him touching you either. You allow it and he leads you back behind the counter, turning to you.

The fact that he’s allowed to touch you but no one else is makes a weird part of him purr in satisfaction. His little dove recognizes his hands and welcomes them.

“You okay, dove?”, he asks his eyes worried and you nod.

“Yeah, asshat has a ‘misunderstanding’ of fucking boundaries.”, you grumble slightly but Kyle is pleased that you don’t seem shaken up. He has to bite his tongue to keep in his amusement because how can someone with a face like yours casually say a sentence like that?

“You handled that well. If anyone bothers you, and I don’t see it, tell me. Won’t tolerate that. They can look but they don’t get to touch you.” The last part is nearly growled. No one touches his dove.

You shrug. “It’s part of the job, Kyle. It’s not like that shit’s something new.”

He grits his teeth at that, the thought of people casually touching you like that without your consent making something red and violent raise in his chest.

“It won’t be part of the job here.”, he grits out “The people who come here might be shady but I won’t allow anyone to put their filthy hands on you, dove.”

Your eyes meet his, surprised at his harsh tone and you look at him, your face not betraying any of your emotions. Sometimes Kyle really wishes you were more expressive. If only so he could know what you’re thinking of him in this moment.

“Sounds good.” You grin at him, all teeth. “If anyone does, they’ll regret it.” The predatory way you say that really doesn’t match your dainty appearance and a shiver runs down his spine.

The shiver is followed by heat deep in his belly and he’s not sure what to make of the effect you have on him. One thing he’s sure of is he wants more of you. You’re like a drug, making him high off of each of your interactions. He might be addicted for the rest of his life.

For the rest of your shift he keeps an even closer eye on you than usual, making sure everyone behaves. He purses his lips in thought. Jackie is a small fish. Only selling drugs and smaller delicts. However it’s enough to get him behind bars for a while.

Usually he wouldn’t bother with someone like that, focusing on the people who employ people like Jackie but he touched you. No one gets to touch his dove without punishment.

[lovebugism]

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further. 

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel. 

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car. 

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance. 

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the  building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice. 

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air. 

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you���re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him. 

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that. 

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void. 

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can. 

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to. 

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Heaven or New Vegas

PART ONE: THE WHITE GLOVE SOCIETY

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Courier!Fem!Reader

Summary: Crossover fic (Fallout tv show and Fallout New Vegas), a rewrite based on the “Beyond the Beef” side quest in the game. — You and Cooper take it upon yourselves to uncover the secrets of the mysterious Ultra-Luxe Casino, home to the White Glove Society. There, you get roped into a missing person’s case, and fall into rabbit hole that just seems to get deeper and deeper.

WC: 4.1k

Warnings: canon typical violence (some graphic depictions), some canon divergence (with canon NPC dialogue/actions), mentions of cannibalism, mentions of death, small instances of discrimination against ghouls, pre-established relationship sort of (what they have is complicated okay), Cooper’s a companion (and a little shit), aaaand i think that’s it? But lmk if anything else.

--------------

Whispers about the Ultra-Luxe casino seemed to follow you everywhere on the Strip, though all the rumors were pretty vague. Even Yes Man had no real information about what was going on inside. Still, it told you a little bit about the highly elitist White Glove Society and how terrible their reputation was—but the rest you would have to find out yourself by infiltrating the place. 

You didn’t much like the look of the tall white building across the street from Tops casino. It had an air of malevolent arrogance, but you could still see the ruin underneath that veneer, as if the place had been patched up with great haste.

It seemed even more ominous in the darkness of night, even with all its lighting and the large, pretentious fountain at the front. More like a glittering fortress rather than a hotel casino. 

Cooper sniffed and then spat on the ground with clear distaste, his glare fixed right on it. You let out a small sound of agreement, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t worry, tin can, we’ll take it from here,” he said gruffly. “They won’t even know what hit ‘em.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to the Securitron with a polite smile. “Thanks for the information. We’ll be back at some point.”

“No problem! I’ll be here!” Yes Man replied enthusiastically, his smiling face unchanging. 

You frowned at Cooper as you set off, waiting until you were an appropriate distance away to speak up.

“Be nice to Yes Man, it’s been really helpful so far.”

“You know I don’t trust bots,” he said. “Especially not that kind, even if it does agree with everything we say.”

“It’s literally programmed to do that,” you argued, glancing over your shoulder. “We should try to be quick, though. I’m scared someone else will find it and get it to wreak some havoc.”

“See? Not trustworthy.” 

“It is as long as it’s on our side!” You hissed, exasperated.

He chuckled, enjoying pushing your buttons. “Alright, so what’s our story when we go in there? Still sayin’ we’re a married couple?”

“Oh, sure, I know how much you love to use that old tale,” you countered teasingly, raising an eyebrow. “Though let’s not give them too many details. We’re just tourists passing through, it’s our first time on the Strip and we want to see everything.”

He nodded. “I can work with that.”

As you went up the steps to the main entrance, a looming sense of foreboding grew as you got closer to the double doors. Once inside, a well-dressed man wearing an eerie, doll-like mask approached you immediately.

“Beg your pardon, but could I trouble you to turn over your weapons?” he said.

Next to you, Cooper immediately tensed, his hand instinctively inching towards his holster. You surreptitiously stepped on his foot to warn him against doing anything stupid, then proceeded to hand over your weapons.

“Sure, no problem at all,” you said, emphasizing your words a little to further drive the point across. 

Cooper cleared his throat, composing himself and even attempting to smile charmingly. 

“Of course, nothin’ to be afraid of here,” he said, practically shoving his guns into the masked man’s arms. “We trust you’ll take good care of ‘em.”

“Of course, sir. The last thing we want is to cultivate a violent atmosphere. But you have my assurance that everything will be returned upon your departure,” the man said. “Please enjoy your stay.”

Cooper bowed exaggeratedly, clearly mocking him. You smiled awkwardly and quickly pulled him along to stroll around the main floor. 

The place was just as well kept on the inside, entirely too clean, the recent renovations apparent. It smelled like intoxicatingly sweet incense… or perhaps a strong powdery perfume. You grimaced slightly and tried not to wrinkle your nose, wondering if it was meant to cover another smell. 

There were a couple of security guards posted around the vast room, all of them wearing different styles of creepy doll masks. You tried not to look at any of them for too long, their presence keeping you on edge. 

There was a large, ostentatious bar at the center where a couple of patrons mingled about. A grim-faced, rough looking man holding a rifle immediately caught your attention, and you shared a glance with Cooper.

“Well, ain’t that somethin’,” he murmured. “Lucky I kept one of my knives.”

You decided to let that slide for the time being, having much more pressing matters at hand.

“A hired gun…” you mused, noticing he was standing near an older man seated at the bar. “Maybe we should introduce ourselves? Politely.”

“Darlin’, just what the hell are you implyin’?” Cooper scoffed, pretending to be offended. “I’m the picture of politeness.”

You sighed but didn’t respond, instead making your way to the bar as casually as possible. The hired gun eyed the both of you closely, but he made no move. You sat near the older man, keeping an empty stool between you. 

His clothes and his cowboy hat looked relatively new, and there was not one spot of filth on him. Even his hands seemed in good condition, with barely any calluses or recent looking scars. Clearly, he wasn’t just anyone, if the fact that he had a bodyguard wasn’t indication enough. 

“Whiskey, neat,” you told the masked bartender, who nodded. “Thank you.”

Cooper waved him back as he turned away. “Actually, why don’t you make it two of ‘em? This gentleman here sure seems like he needs it.”

The older man looked up at this, frowning slightly in both confusion and suspicion. You smiled sheepishly at him while Cooper tipped his hat.

“This sure don’t seem like the kind of place one would look so glum in,” he continued. “Thought you could use another little pick me up.”

The hired gun took a step forward, lips curled back in a snarl, but the man waved him off, having decided the two of you weren’t a threat. You relaxed some, letting out the breath you hadn’t noticed you were holding. 

“Sorry about that, my, uh, husband always talks before he thinks things through…” you said with an awkward little chuckle.

The man raised his gray eyebrows. “You married a ghoul?” 

“Yes, I sure did,” you challenged. “There a problem with that?”

Behind you, you could feel more than see Cooper smiling smugly, chin raised high with pride. He was also daring the man to say something, anything, that would give him an excuse to get mean, but you wouldn’t let it get to that.

“To each their own I suppose,” the man said with a shrug, dispersing the tension. “I’m here looking for someone. You ain’t seen a young man with dark brown hair and a white hat on lately, have you?”

“No, we haven’t.”

He sighed heavily. “Ain’t nobody got one darned piece of information about my son? I’m here for an hour and he just up and disappears on me.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Mister…?”

“Heck,” he said, extending a hand for you to shake. “Heck Gunderson.” 

“What is it that you do, Mister Gunderson?” Cooper said, giving him a quick once over. “If I may ask, of course.”

“I’m a rancher, I’ve got a whole mess of Brahmin and Birhorners to my name,” he said. “I run one of the biggest ranching operations east of California. We supply meat to a whole bunch of places, including here.”

“That’s quite impressive,” you said, genuinely awed. “I’m sure that’s why your bodyguard is allowed to have a weapon. Gotta take good care of an important figure such as yourself.”

“Well, I made a special arrangement with the hotel. They want to do business with me, so they gotta play by my rules.”

The bartender came back and handed both you and Mr. Gunderson your drinks. The latter raised his glass in a silent, appreciative toast. You nodded and raised your glass as well. 

Cooper cut in once more. “And so, you said you lost your son?” 

He nodded gravely. “His name’s Ted. I told him to stay put for a minute while I talked some things over with the White Glove folks, but he never was one to stay tied down to one spot. Got that from his mother, that’s for sure. I got a whole lot of people looking for him as we speak, but I’m staying right here just in case he decides to show up.” 

You hummed in thought, giving him a sympathetic look. The gears in Cooper’s head were already in motion, his fingers drumming on the table. 

“We’d sure like to help if you’d let us,” he said, nodding towards you. “The missus here happens to be real good at tracking things down. People, too.”

“I’d be more than happy to have you,” Mr. Gunderson said. “Hell, I’ll hire anybody with a pair of legs and at least one good eye at this point. There’d be a lot of money in it for you if you can get him back to me safe… But if he ain’t, I’ll pay for the names of the sons of bitches responsible.”

“Lucky for you, we’re a package deal. Double the eyes and legs at your disposal,” you said, finishing your drink in one swig without wincing. “We’ll see what we can do, Mister Gunderson.”

He let out an amused huff. “I’ll be here.”

After a few more minutes of polite conversation, you and Cooper stood and excused yourselves. You figured the reception would be a good place to start asking some questions, so you had a masked attendant point you in the right direction. Cooper surveyed your surroundings as you made your way there, hoping to find some clues or see if anyone suspicious stood out. 

“He can’t be very far,” you said. “If he hasn’t been gone that long.”

“No, I reckon he’s somewhere deep in this maze of a hotel,” he agreed. “Real smooth with our story back there, by the way.”

You snorted derisively. “I’m sure he totally bought it.”

“Maybe one of these days we oughta just make it official. We’re in New Vegas, after all, and then it wouldn’t be a lie anymore.”

“You’re really asking me to elope right now? Dream on.”

He laughed. “I’m just puttin’ it out there, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, if that were to happen, we would definitely not be honeymooning in a place like this, I’ll tell you that.”

On your way to the lobby, the double doors of the Gourmand restaurant caught your eye. You had a weird hunch that you couldn’t ignore, so you steered Cooper in that direction. He started to protest but thought better of it when he saw the determined look on your face. 

Inside the restaurant, the lights were dimmer and piano music softly wafted out of some unseen speakers, surely meant to give the place a more private, luxurious atmosphere. A refined-looking woman stood at the hostess stand giving instructions to a masked waiter. When she saw you and Cooper walking up, she sent him away and put on her best smile. 

“Welcome to the Ultra-Luxe hotel and casino, we hope to exceed your every expectation,” she said. “My name is Marjorie. How may I assist you?”

“Would you mind if we asked you some questions? It’s our first time here, and there’s so much we’re just itching to know,” you said, trying to sound like an eager, fresh-faced tourist.

“Of course. Ask away, madam.”

“We’ve heard lots of talk about the White Glove Society. Can you tell us anything about who they are or what they do?”

“We are responsible for maintaining the beauty and class of the Ultra-Luxe,” she said. “And as its founder, I suppose it falls to me to decide how we go about it.”

Her words were vague enough that you had to wonder what sort of stuff they were potentially covering up. Cooper’s small hum told you he was thinking the same thing, but you knew you couldn’t press Marjorie too hard lest she completely clammed up. So he let you do the talking, since you’d have a more delicate approach to things.

“Interesting,” you said. “You’ve done a fine job with the place. Mister Gunderson mentioned it when he told us he was here to discuss some business with you.”

“Oh, you are acquainted with him?”

“Why yes, we are helping him look into something. What sort of business were you discussing, if I may ask?”

“His livestock, of course… Though it has put us in a rather delicate position,” she said fretfully. “Our executive chef, Philippe, has transformed Brahmin steak into a delicacy. He really is a genius, you know, everyone wants it. But if everyone can get it, it ceases to be a delicacy. And if the Gourmand only served staples, it would no longer draw the kind of people it deserves. It would just become like… a diner, or a family restaurant.”

“Oh, sure, sure, I understand,” you said, feeling the exact opposite. You internally rolled your eyes at her classist remarks, loathing the place even more. 

“So as much as we’d love for there to be enough steak for everyone, I’m afraid we have more important things to consider,” Marjorie said. “Not that we don’t appreciate his generosity or the trouble he went through to come here.”

“Right,” you said. “Well, you see, we happen to be looking for his son, Ted. Told us he went missing around here pretty recently.”

She seemed genuinely shocked, eyes widening. “Really? Oh my, that is just terrible…”

“Isn’t it just?”

A charged silence ensued in which you stared at each other, challenging, your expressions unchanging. You held your ground and she shifted her weight, hesitating for a moment glancing around to make sure no one was around to listen in. Upon seeing the coast was clear, she let out a resigned sigh. 

“Look, another investigator recently approached me to inquire about another missing person case…” 

“Someone else went missing here?” Cooper interrupted, unable to help himself.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder as Marjorie blinked, startled. You nodded and tried grinning encouragingly for her to proceed. She mirrored the grin as best as she could, though her discomfort still showed.

“Er, yes… A young bride, the night before her wedding,” she continued slowly. “I told the investigator it was likely she got cold feet and ran away. I could not possibly think of another explanation, but I’m sure the groom – who hired him – didn’t want to hear that.”

You tilted your head to one side, thoughtful. “And would he have reason to believe the White Glove Society might have been involved?”

“Indeed, we haven’t always had the best reputation, but all of that is in the past now. Some people just can’t seem to understand that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the White Glove Society has never and will never consume human flesh for any reason. It’s written in the charter.”

You opened and closed your mouth, momentarily unable to form any words in your utter shock. Cooper shook his head slightly, pursing his lips in an attempt not to laugh. Well, it wasn’t necessarily what you’d expected, but it certainly fit the bill. 

“Wait, let me get this straight… The Society was rumored to eat human flesh?” You asked, brows furrowed in consternation. “Now that’s interesting. Very specific accusation to make, don’t you think?”

“I just told you we don’t engage in cannibalism under any circumstance, madam. We weren’t always the White Glove Society. There was a darker time where we went by another name, but I’ve seen to it that those days are behind us.” She glanced at Cooper and then back at you. “But you, on the other hand, might be more familiar with it.”

“Hey now,” Cooper said, his grin easy despite the slight edge in his voice. “We were all getting along just a moment ago. Let’s keep it that way, for all our sakes.”

Marjorie nodded, though her demeanor had changed. Her chin was raised haughtily, and she seemed to look down her nose at you both. You clenched your teeth but didn’t give her any more reason to get riled up. You were not gonna get anywhere else here for the time being, and you all knew that.

“My apologies,” she said, only half sincere. “I already answered all of the detective’s questions as best as I could, but I don’t believe I can be of help in this case. Maybe you could speak to him if he hasn’t checked out yet. I had our maitre d’, Mortimer, give him a complimentary room for as long as was necessary, but it has been a week since we spoke.”

You and Cooper shared a knowing look. If a week had already passed, then the possibilities of him being there were much slimmer, but it was worth a shot regardless. 

“We’ll speak to Mortimer. Thank you kindly for all the information,” you said, promptly heading back out of the Gourmand along with Cooper.

In the lobby, an unmasked older gentleman in a tuxedo – Mortimer – was manning the reception desk. He smiled at you genially as you approached, but it seemed more plastered on when he looked at your companion. 

“How do you do?” he said with that same pompous drawl that all wealthy people seemed to have. “How may I be of service today?”

“Marjorie told us you gave a room to a private investigator. Do you happen to know if he has checked out yet?” You asked.

“A private investigator…” he mused, trying to recall. “Ah yes, I remember the gentleman. Such an awful thing about the missing bride. I do hope he finds her whereabouts… If I might pry, have you found something about this investigation?”

“Er, actually, we just have to speak with him about something else,” you said with a small, nonchalant shrug. 

“I see, I see… Well, we don’t normally give out guest information, but given the circumstances, we can make an exception. Let’s see here.” He glanced over the guest book, seeming to find the name he was looking for. “Ah, it seems he hasn’t checked out yet. Room one hundred eighteen. Once you exit the lobby, you can take one of the stairs up to the first level and find him there.”

“Thank you, Mortimer,” you said.

“You are most welcome, madam. I hope we can finally put these matters to rest,” he said, but his eyes almost immediately drifted to Cooper with a certain curiosity. “Are you planning on staying with us, as well? I’m sure we can find you a lovely room.”

“No, I don’t reckon we will,” Cooper said with a slight shake of his head. “Don’t think we’ll be dinin’ with you, either.”

Mortimer’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Ah, so you have heard those nasty rumors. Jealous people say such horrid things… When you can’t get an inside look at our Society, it’s only natural to speculate the worst, I suppose. All we care about is refinement, whether it is through fine cuisine or dressing well.”

“You are perfectly correct,” you interjected before Cooper could say anything else. “Petty rumors and nothing else. My apologies, please excuse us, we’ll be on our way.”

You tugged Cooper towards the other side of the lobby, where the double doors leading to the hotel rooms were located. You felt Mortimer’s eyes on the pair of you the entire way, sending ice trickling down your spine.

“Do you have to stir shit up with everyone we talk to!?” You hissed, gripping his arm as you politely smiled at a masked attendant passing by.

“Gets ‘em talkin’ sometimes, don’t it?” He countered. “It’s like a good cop, bad cop type of deal. Gotta keep ‘em on their toes…”

“Let’s not shake up the investigator, please?” you pleaded. “He might be helpful, and I don’t wanna get off on the wrong foot if possible.”

“You are too nice, sweetheart,” he said with an amused grin, glancing over at you. “You’re lucky you got me to take care of you out here.”

You simply scoffed, pushing the door open and making your way up the stairs. It was all too quiet, not one soul in sight. You’d always found hotel hallways to be sort of eerie, not entirely in touch with reality. Cooper took the lead then, counting the numbers on the doors until he found 118. 

“So what’s our strategy then? We gonna help him find the runaway bride, too?” He asked.

“Maybe, but we have to focus on Ted first. It’s possible he saw something that might help, you never know.”

He stopped right beside the door and lowered his voice. “He will ask for somethin’ in return for the information, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll figure something out.” You raised your fist and delicately rapped on the door with your knuckles.

There was no sound from within. You waited for a moment and figured he might not have heard, so you knocked louder. This time, the door’s hinges creaked as it opened lightly. You frowned, looking over at Cooper as he unsheathed his knife. He put a finger to his lips and nodded for you to quietly push it further open.

You did so painstakingly slow, peering inside. There was still no movement, not even a voice from the bathroom calling out to ask who it was. You saw the mess first – a lamp thrown in one corner, an overturned chair, and slashed curtains. All the signs of a struggle. 

And then, you saw the private investigator… sprawled out on the floor, dead. 

“Holy shit,” you murmured, immediately recoiling from the smell. 

Cooper let out a low whistle. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

“Looks like he got his skull bashed in,” you said, noticing the chunks of bone, gore, and gray matter staining the carpet, your voice slightly muffled behind your hand. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

He walked past you and knelt next to the body to examine it more closely. He tilted his head to one side curiously and hummed in thought. 

“Relatively recent, maybe a few days,” he said. “They didn’t like him askin’ questions, that much is clear.”

“No shit. Anything else of note?”

“Let’s see.”

He carefully searched him for any clues, moving him this way and that. In his left jacket pocket, there was a matchbook. He tossed it over to you and you deftly caught it, opening it up to find a tiny message scrawled within – Steam room. 4 PM.

You didn’t hear them slip in, but Cooper saw them over your shoulder. Two fleet footed masked men menacingly wielding dressing canes, already raised for the blow. Time exponentially slowed down, but there was no room for hesitancy.

“Watch out!” Cooper yelled, springing to his feet. 

You whirled around, just barely avoiding being striked, the cane whooshing past your ear. Cooper got to him first, driving his knife into the man’s abdomen full force. The man let out a gurgling groan, blood spilling from underneath his mask. Cooper pulled out the knife only to bury it once more into the man’s heart, killing him instantly.

Reflexively, you caught the other cane in one hand and held fast to it, struggling against your assailant. You were decently strong, but given his intent to kill, he started to overpower you. You grit your teeth and planted your feet, fighting back even harder, but then Cooper slammed into the man from the side. 

Swiftly, and with a sickening crunch, he disposed of him too. Both of you were panting with both exertion and adrenaline, still not fully processing what had happened. Your mind still spun, but you broke out of your fighting stance, shaking the energy out through your arms. 

“Well, I guess they don’t like us asking questions, either,” you said, looking at the chaos the room had become. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just peachy,” he said, getting to his feet with a grunt. “You?”

“I’m fine.”

He approached and quickly searched you for any visible injuries, sighing with relief when he couldn’t find anything. You patted his hand in a small, comforting gesture, offering him a little smile. 

“Really, I’m all good, Coop,” you said. “Though we’re gonna have to be a lot more careful from here on out.”

“I’ll bet you it was that asshole Mortimer that did this,” he spat.  “He kinda looked like a starving coyote, didn’t he?”

“Likely, yes, but we can’t be making any accusations. In fact, we should probably pretend it didn’t happen at all. That could buy us some time, if we get cleaned up first.”

“Smart idea,” he said, looking down at his blood soaked clothes. “What does the matchbook say?”

You pulled it out of your pocket, where you had hastily tucked it when the attack had started. “It says we have a meeting with someone at four, so we better start getting ready. Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”

------

Part 2 out now!

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, check out part 2 part 3 part 4 and epilogue!

Warnings: Nothing too serious, Steve/Eddie went to high school together but don't know each other, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray, and my fav tag of all - gay scheming!

A/N: I'm a counselor in training currently but I don't specialize in couple's counseling so this may or may not be accurate? Idk man it's just fun and silly I love our stupid boys sm. Original post by @hxneyfarms

It’s a match!

“Robin, it worked!” Steve shouted from the couch. She ran from the kitchen and joined him, peering over to stare at his screen.

“I told you it would! It’s funny!” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and anxiously pulled up the profile of his new match. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “I remember swiping right on this guy. Didn’t think I had a shot.” He looked through the pictures. They were all candids, slightly blurry, or shots of him with his friends, but due to his distinguished look it was easy to pick him out even in a crowd. 

“Show me his bio,” Robin ordered. Steve closed out the pictures and scrolled until the bio was in full view.

Eddie, 25. Shit at bios.

“Well that’s kind of boring,” Steve said. 

“Yeah. You think he’s a bot?” Robin asked.

 “Or a catfish, maybe,” Steve mused. “Either way, I still think I should take your joke down. I don’t talk like that in real life, and people might get confused.”

Robin had convinced him earlier to change his bio and replace it with - let’s go to couple’s counseling and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other. Steve had been a little tipsy when he agreed, and he assumed nothing would come of it. But then, Eddie matched with him. 

“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Dingus,” Robin replied. “People write weird shit in their Tinder bios all the time.” 

“Eddie didn’t,” Steve countered. 

“Yeah, but look at him,” Robin responded. “He’s distinctive. It’s attention-grabbing in itself.”

“And I’m not?” Steve asked. Robin chuckled.

“You’re the kind of pretty where if you don’t have something witty in the bio, people will think you’re just some ignorant surface-level airhead who’s never worked a day in his life, and that’s not cute.”

“Okay, ouch,” Steve said. 

“It’s a compliment!” she insisted. “Like, you need to show that you’re witty and funny and able to poke fun at yourself, otherwise you’re going to attract the wrong kind of people.”

“And this guy’s the right kind, huh?” Steve opened one of the pictures back up - one where Eddie was passed out on the couch with a beer still in his hand. As they looked at the screen, a notification popped up. Eddie sent you a message.

“Let’s find out,” Robin said. 

-

Eddie: If your bio is serious, I’m in

Steve: Wait, really?

Eddie: Yeah xD sounds fun

Eddie: You got a therapist in mind?

Steve: Honestly didn’t think I’d get this far

Eddie: Boo. 

Eddie: You’re lucky I know just the guy

Steve: Okay…

Steve: So how do we do this?

Eddie: Dude, it was YOUR idea

Steve: Ok but I’ve never done it before!

Eddie: Steve! I’m your first? <3

Steve: Yeah, yeah. I’ve never pranked a therapist before. 

Eddie: I hope you’re either rich or have really good insurance. Otherwise this is gonna be an expensive first date.

Steve: I got it covered. 

Eddie: I figured you did. I’ll call the guy in the morning and get back to you with the appointment time. 

Steve: Okay. How’s your night going by the way?

Eddie: Nope!

Eddie: That’s not part of the deal, Steve. We go into this blind or not at all.

Steve: This is insane.

Eddie: Once again, your idea. I’m excited. Are you excited?

Steve: Thrilled.

Steve: I’m still concerned about how you know the perfect guy for this.

Eddie: 😛

Eddie: Don’t worry about it.

-

“I don’t even think he’s serious,” Steve said after he recounted the entire interaction to Robin.

“I don’t know, Steve. Sounds serious to me.” 

“What if he’s like - not right in the head?” Steve wondered, reading the interaction over and over again. “Like, who is this therapist and why does he know him? Is he actually going to make an appointment? What if this whole thing crashes and burns?”

“I honestly think he plans on it crashing and burning,” Robin replied. “And then after, the both of you either hit it off and laugh about it forever, or you have an amazing failed date story to tell your friends until the end of time.”

“That’s…actually genius.” 

“I know.” 

Steve read the messages one last time, focusing on the bits where Eddie was mildly flirtatious. Steve! I’m your first? He could tell if Eddie was being condescending, or what vibe he was going to bring to this absolute insane first date. But, as Robin said, it would be a story no matter what. 

He tried to focus on that and not the anxiety that started brewing in his veins.

-

The appointment was set for two weeks later. Eddie still refused to talk to Steve other than for details on where to go and at what time, so for the whole fourteen days, Steve assumed he was being pranked right back. Eddie was messing with him, or he’d cancel, or Dr. Bauman didn’t actually exist, or he’d be murdered, or, or, or -

None of that happened. Instead, on a Tuesday afternoon, Steve pulled up to an office building about fifteen minutes from his apartment. He’d passed by it several times and never once wondered what went on inside. 

Apparently, really weird first dates.

They had decided to meet up in the parking lot and walk in together. The whole thing was crazy, but having one of them pick the other up so they could drive in together was way over what was needed to commit to the bit. 

Steve got there first. They needed to be fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork. It was twenty minutes prior to their appointment time. 

This was weird. It felt a lot different than all the times he’d met someone for coffee. In another world, that’s how he and Eddie would have met. But no. He had to agree to this stupid thing, and now he was too far into it to back out. Jesus Christ. 

Eddie’s car pulled in a few spaces down. Steve knew it was him from the hair alone - unmistakable. He got out of his car and walked towards his date, his palms sweaty. Eddie got out of his car a moment later, eyeing Steve as he approached him and smirking. 

“What gave me away?” Eddie asked. 

“You think I wouldn’t recognize my boyfriend?” Steve snapped back, pleased at the way he was able to take Eddie off guard. 

“Touche. Well, come on, then. Let’s do this.” 

-

Before they knew it, they were sitting in a cramped waiting room, alone, filling out paperwork. It consisted of insurance information first, followed by names and some quick background questions about the “couple.” Steve began filling it out, thankful that he was still on his dad’s fancy rich-person insurance. It covered basically everything, even fucked-up couples fraud with Dr. Bauman.

“Are you not worried I’m gonna, like, steal your information or something?” Eddie asked as Steve wrote down his policy number.

“I mean…should I be?” Steve responded. 

“No,” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I gotta say, though, you’re way more trusting than I am. It’s ballsy. I like it.” 

“Uhh…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the paperwork, but the compliment was throwing him off. “Thank you, I think.” He continued filling out the paperwork.

“You’re from Hawkins?” he asked. Steve nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m from Hawkins.” This caught Steve’s attention. 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Small world,” Steve replied before turning his attention back to the form.

“You have a cute middle name,” Eddie teased. 

“Shut up,” Steve responded. He wanted to find Eddie’s pestering annoying, but instead he found himself smirking, even giggling a little bit. This whole thing was so ridiculous. He shoved the clipboard onto Eddie’s lap. “Your turn, lover.”

“Euch,” Eddie groaned. “That is not one of our pet names, no way.” 

“Noted,” Steve chuckled. He was…kind of enjoying this way more than he expected, as weird as it was. He’d grown accustomed to a lot of even stranger things in his life, so this didn’t feel as shocking as he’d initially thought. 

“Don’t look,” Eddie said as he covered the paper.

“What? Why not?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Because not all of us are as blindly trusting, Steven,” Eddie responded. Steve shook his head and looked away. 

“Good thing we’re in therapy to work that shit out, Edward Munson.”

“You looked!” Eddie exclaimed. 

“It was right in front of me!” Steve pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie sighed. “Okay, now we gotta put down a reason for doing this.”

-

Fast forward ten minutes, Eddie and Steve were seated next to each other on a relatively small but cozy burnt orange couch. The color was ugly, but the seats were comfortable. Steve noticed the cushions had a natural dip that kept inching him closer to the person sitting on the opposite side. He figured this was certainly intentional. 

The doctor sat in front of them, reviewing the papers the pair had just filled out.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Bauman, and one day I may let you call me Murray,” he began, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. “I see here on your sheet that you’ve been feeling distant from each other, and that you’re looking to feel more connected, right? Can you tell me more about that?”

“We’re just launching right into it, huh?” Eddie asked. 

“Well, we are on a time crunch here. Your decision how you spend it,” Dr. Bauman answered. 

The man was immediately intimidating.

“Ooookay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it just feels like - like he and I don’t even know each other anymore.” Eddie stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to make it seem like he was maybe getting emotional or perhaps trying not to sneeze. 

“I see,” Dr. Bauman said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Let’s begin with how you two met and we’ll go from there, okay?”

“We were high school sweethearts,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Wow,” Dr. Bauman commented. “Well, it’s common for a lot of development to happen from then to now. How did you two get together?” Eddie looked to Steve, as if to say, you’re up.

“It just kinda…happened, I guess,” Steve began. “We were assigned as partners for a project and really clicked.”

“Yeah, and then we snuck around for a while. Sneaking kisses in janitor's closets and empty classrooms, you know the drill.” Steve tried not to blush at the thought of sneaking around with high school Eddie. If they were both from Hawkins, did they actually go to high school together?

“Snuck around for the thrill?” Dr. Bauman asked.

“No,” Steve responded. “I wasn’t out yet.” Eddie looked at him curiously, as if he wasn’t expecting Steve to say something so serious. He wondered if it was actually true. 

“Well, that and -” Eddie added. “- he was a popular jock and I was kind of a freak.” This time, Steve looked at Eddie curiously. Steve was a popular jock. Eddie could have assumed that, or made a lucky guess, but something told him that wasn’t the case. 

Eddie Munson. Munson. 

Oh.

Oh!

It took Steve a minute to recover from that information. They did in fact go to school together, they just had never interacted. Eddie obviously remembered, and he obviously knew that Steve didn’t. So what was the goal here? Was Steve being punked or something just so Eddie could get free therapy?

“Steve, you look a little pale there,” Dr. Bauman noticed. “Did that trigger something?”

“Yeah -” Steve croaked, now unable to look at Eddie. If he had, he would have noticed Eddie didn’t look as smug as Steve assumed he was. “Yeah, I just don’t think about high school that much anymore.”

“Why not?” the doctor asked. 

“Because, I - I’ve changed so much since then. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to be that guy.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed. “So, Eddie fell for someone who no longer exists. I think I’m understanding the problem here. Eddie, do you feel that you’ve changed?”

Damn. This guy’s kinda good.

“Uhhh -” Eddie began. Neither of them expected this to get so serious so quickly. It didn’t even feel like it was about their imagined relationship anymore. “N-no, I don’t think I have.”

“And Steve, do you think Eddie has changed?”

Steve thought about the limited memories he had of Eddie in high school. Cocky, slightly unhinged, just as he was now. But there was something different, he just couldn’t really pinpoint what. Maybe if he’d talked to Eddie for longer than like ten minutes total in his life, he’d have a better idea. 

Then, he realized the point of this wasn’t to be serious. It was to make shit up. Steve pivoted back to the original plan. 

“Yeah, I mean -” He shifted in his seat, finding himself now thigh to thigh with Eddie, despite not meaning to be. “He’s, uh - it just feels like we don’t have anything in common anymore?” It was something he’d heard lots of couples say.

“Do you want to make this work?” Dr. Bauman asked. 

“Why else would we be here?” Eddie answered. Dr. Bauman narrowed his eyes. 

“You tell me.”

Eddie and Steve were kind of not good at this. Their story was based in truth and not very exciting. They both seemed to realize this at the same time.

“Steve slept with the dogwalker,” Eddie proclaimed. Steve scoffed, half-amused, half-offended. 

“Yeah, well you sold drugs to my mom!” he shot back. The two guys looked at each other, pretending to look angry while simultaneously wanting to laugh. 

“Woooah, there,” Dr. Bauman responded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Do we want to begin with Steve’s infidelity or Eddie’s illegal activity?”

“That’s not gonna, like, go on record or anything, right?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. “Like, the cops aren’t gonna show up at Eddie’s door?”

“Our door, babe,” Eddie clarified, not the least bit nervous. 

“Depends on how long ago this happened, I suppose,” Dr. Bauman answered.

“Long time ago,” Eddie said. 

“Are you still currently dealing?”

“No, I don’t even do drugs anymore. Well, like, except pot - but that’s legal now so it doesn’t really count, I think.”

“Dude,” Steve whispered. 

“You brought it up,” Eddie replied just as softly. 

“Right,” Dr. Bauman responded, taking it all in. “No report needed, then. Let’s move onto the dogwalker.” 

They continued to add to their lore as the appointment went on. At one point, Eddie even faked tears. His acting was…decent enough to avoid suspicion, thankfully. When the clock hit 1:45, their time was up, and they’d successfully managed to fool Dr. Bauman. Mission accomplished, date over. Right?

“Well, thank you so much, Dr. Bauman,” Eddie said. “I think you’ve really helped us out today.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Steve said, smiling. “We feel so much better.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Dr. Bauman said with his hands up. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, in my professional opinion.”

“There is?” Eddie asked, confused. 

“Oh, definitely. Most couples go to a minimum of four sessions, and that’s still a low average. Plus, this was only intake. I mean, unless you guys weren’t happy with the counseling I gave you today…”

It felt like a challenge, and Eddie loved challenges. Meanwhile, Steve was too awkward to come clean or tell the doctor they weren’t interested. 

They made another appointment.

-

“Well, that went pretty well, I think,” Eddie said as they left the building. 

“You knew me already?” Steve asked once they were a safe enough distance from the office and Dr. Bauman. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just knew your name and face, man. And, like, your vibe,” Eddie answered. “Back in high school, anyway.” 

“You should have told me,” Steve said. 

“You should have remembered,” Eddie shot back. “Whatever, it was fun. Right?”

“Eddie, I have no idea what that was,” Steve replied. “We have to cancel that appointment.”

“Why? You don’t want to see me again?” Eddie grinned. Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, I - I mean, I don’t want to waste his time. That spot should go to other couples who need it. Meanwhile, we could go get coffee like normal adults.” 

“I dunno,” Eddie said, kicking a pebble in the road as they walked. “I kinda liked it. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

It was true. Steve couldn’t say that he didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve unlocked his car and made his way to the door. “We’re canceling.”

“He’s the one that wanted to see us again, Steve,” Eddie reminded him. 

“Yeah, because he thought we were an actual couple.” Steve was getting frustrated at Eddie’s antics, and the way he refused to back down. “I don’t know if this is gonna work, man. This has been, uh - well, it’s been weird, but I think -”

“We have to go, otherwise you’ll be charged a cancellation fee,” Eddie blurted out. It was a lie, a bold-faced lie, and yet -

“So, I’ll pay the fee. Can’t be more than the cost of a full session,” Steve figured. 

“Ugh!” Eddie groaned in frustration. “Okay, fine. Look - I’m annoying as hell, I’m a mess, I’m broke, and I could never afford someone like Dr. Bauman. I don’t know about you, but some of the things he said actually made me think and I kind of want to ask him about, like, real shit.” 

Steve stared at him blankly for a minute. 

“You - you want me to keep going to fake couple’s counseling with you so you can get actual therapy?” Steve asked, stunned. 

“I mean, you could work your shit out, too,” Eddie suggested.

“What shit? I don’t have shit,” Steve insisted. 

“Of course you do! Everyone does!” Eddie yelled. 

“You’re insane,” Steve muttered. The thing was, he wasn’t saying it out of anger. He was saying it in understanding. 

Because the thing was, Eddie had a point. Dr. Bauman was good at what he did, and Steve knew he’d never sign up for individual counseling. He already had the appointment. Eddie smirked. 

“You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Fuck.

“Fine,” Steve agreed. 

-

Notes from Dr. Bauman - 3/18

Eddie and Steve

Together since high school

Feelings of disconnect

Steve/dogwalker

Eddie/mom/drugs

Clearly lying

Clients are faking their relationship for me, for some reason. Will continue to work with them to figure out why. 

They aren’t dating…but they should be

(next chapter)

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