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#Everyone go watch Daisy Brown
sharpth1ng · 19 days
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do you think stu and billy would be into more modern horror or analogue horror? like stuff like local 58, skinamarink, mandela catalogue, etc.
Some of it, absolutely! The more slowcore/more esoteric stuff like skinamarink, petscop, ect is probably more Billy's vibe. I just think Stu is more likely to be bored by stuff like that. I think they would have been into this stuff early though, with Marble Hornets and series like that.
I think the Alan Reznik/wham city comedy/Adult Swim type weirdness is mostly going to be more Stu's vibe, there's some parts of This House Has People In It that he would find hilarious (the flag song, boomy the cat). Stuff like Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, Too Many Cooks. I do think Billy would like some of this stuff too, but it just strikes me as more Stu-type content.
There are so many great ARGs and Analogue horror series that I think they would be into and Billy is definitely watching the long ass Nightmind breakdown videos.
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wooahaes · 2 months
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svt - whatever you say, beautiful
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pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader
prompt: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.
warnings: established relationship aus. food and alcohol mentions. jeonghan and reader lovingly calling each other 'ugly' like an old married couple. 96z roommates au (jun). soonyoung's terrible mayo-ketchup concoction (jun). reader gets called beautiful back (jun, soonyoung). friends -> lovers (jun, soonyoung, jihoon). bickering as a love language (minghao, seungkwan). sexual implications from a third party (chan telling seungkwan to let him know if he needs to put headphones on or leave).
daisy's notes: i wrote that vernon drabble and gave myself brainrot. also on jeonghan's: ik there's cultures that do this lol but for those unaware: pls don't take it as a serious thing haha its meant to be akin to calling someone silly or goofy. i just think it gives old married couple energy to be like 'you're a nuisance but you're my nuisance and i adore you wholeheartedly.' like seungkwan tells them: just tie the knot if they want to, because they already act like they've been married for seventy years.
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choi seungcheol
seungcheol was sprawled out in your bed, blanket securely tucked around him while he scrolled through his phone. sleepovers, at this stage in your relationship, weren't exactly uncommon... but the giddiness still hadn't worn off. the two of you didn't intend on moving in together for at least another year, both of you enjoying living on your own for right now after so, so much time of living with other people. still... that would never stop you from enjoying the sight of your beloved in your bed, ready for sleep, and winding down by checking his social media for the second or third time today.
until you saw him stop. he furrowed his brow, that handsome face completely perplexed. and you fought back a grin, because you knew exactly what was confusing him.
today the two of you decided to publicly reveal your relationship to more than just immediate family and very very close friends. seungcheol had been thrilled over it: he'd always been wanting to show you off since you started dating. but when you asked for a little time, he didn't fight: he just met you where you were. and now that everyone knows...
"what is this?"
he turned his phone to face you, giving you full view of the caption you lovingly wrote out. it sat underneath a collection of pictures, some taken by you, others by him, and one taken by one of his close friends in preparation of this special day... and, of course, it was a silly little joke.
i'm not arguing with my man and his big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. ❤️
you snickered, crawling into bed next to him. "what's wrong with it?"
"nothing!" but he was pouting, and you knew what was coming next. "did you see my post?" he was already moving to pull it up, as though you hadn't read and re-read it a million times while he was in the shower.
so you decided to torment him. just a little bit. "you don't like it...?" you frowned, putting on your best 'kicked puppy' look.
"i do like it!" he was quick to try and assuage your worries. he turned over so that he could face you. "but... when we decided to tell everyone, i thought you wouldn't post a meme as the caption."
"so you hate it." you crossed your arms, pouting as hard as you could muster.
"i don't hate it! i didn't say--i didn't mean that, i just--" he looked up, watching you for longer than a few seconds. then he snorted, hand resting over his heart for a minute. "you're going to be the death of me."
with a snort, you crawled closer to him, all but dragging him up so that you could kiss him. "you know you're the normal one here."
he giggled, capturing your lips in another quick peck. "maybe i am," he said. "... i do like it, though. just warn me next time."
yoon jeonghan
joshua (hannie's coworker): [IMAGE.JPEG]
joshua (hannie's coworker): can you come get him he's bickering with seungkwan rn
joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's mostly seungkwan bickering but jeonghan is actually fighting back a little)
joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's literally over who's paying for chan's birthday dinner. cheol literally picked up the check half an hour ago right after they started.)
you: omw. also idk how seungkwan does it. i'm not arguing with a man with big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.
the moment you pulled up outside the restaurant, you should have known exactly why jeonghan was grinning at you. he waved from the sidewalk, turning back to his friends to talk just a bit longer. he didn't move, which... on most days, you wouldn't care. but it was late, and you had work in the morning, and (according to joshua) they just spent the past few hours just chatting after their meal. five minutes melted into ten, and then into twenty...
and so you rolled down your window, yelling out a 'happy birthday!' to chan that finally got jeonghan's attention. another grin, and that was enough to tell you that he'd been waiting for that. he wouldn't do it for everyone, but chan? you knew their friendship was different. he hugged the guy one last time, and then made his way over to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. with a final wave to his friends, you pulled back onto the road, and started the journey home.
"so... you really think my eyes are beautiful?"
ah. that was the other reason the fucker wouldn't stop grinning at you. of course it couldn't just be one thing with jeonghan.
"you think i'm beautiful?" he watched you with this knowing smile, as though the two of you hadn't been dating for years now. as though you hadn't drunkenly confessed it before. "i'm starting to think you actually like me."
"you're just now realizing that?" you flicked on your blinker, coasting into the turn lane. "do you think i'd be living with you if i didn't?"
"you never call me beautiful to my face anymore, you know," he said, reaching for your bottle of water. without a care, he uncapped it, taking a long sip from it. "you just call me 'ugly' whenever you call me something."
that was far from true, to be fair: he was your love, your baby, your honey... and he was 'ugly' when you were particularly affectionate. "i have to keep you humble, ugly. you already know how beautiful you are."
his eyes twinkled a little as he looked at you, that fond smile telling you all you needed to know. "i know, ugly." he'd never been afraid to throw the word back at you, and you hoped that the tiny thrill it brought you never died.
no wonder seungkwan once said the two of you should go ahead and tie the knot. "you already act like it," he'd said, side-eyeing the two of you before taking a long sip of whatever coffee-flavor-of-the-day he'd picked out.
he reached over, prodding your cheek. when you glanced over, just enough to let him know you were listening, he just leaned against the center console with this handsome smile he reserved for you. "i love you."
and maybe he was a little drunk. just a little. but you let him have this one. "i love you, too, handsome."
joshua hong
"am i not worth the effort?" joshua couldn't even fight his playful grin now, his phone in his hand. "you couldn't even come up with an original post for our anniversary?"
with a roll of your eyes, you glanced back over his own post for a moment, pausing your search for movie snacks. he'd written out this long, sappy love letter to you about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life alongside you. it was sweet, and a little silly when he recounted the embarrassing story of how the two of you realized your feelings for one another (all it took was one spilled milkshake, courtesy of jeonghan), but overall a very public display of his adoration toward you. the picture-perfect, romance novel act of love from your boyfriend.
in other words: he was hamming it up so that people would gush over how he was the most adoring boyfriend, and how lucky you two were to have one another based on everything he said. in reality, he was literally eating your snacks right now. and later that night, he'd put his cold feet on you and then laugh over it.
"uh-huh." you continued searching through the cabinets after pocketing your phone. "should i have told everyone about how you somehow always manage to eat the last poptart in the box, even though you straight up told me that you keep count just so you can tease me over it?" you tossed an empty box into the bin, making a mental note to add them to the list. "or the time you literally ate all of my fries when we were on that road trip?"
"you're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"
"didn't mention how god awful your workout clothes stink, either." you grimaced at the memory alone. "seriously, dude, how fucking hard do you go?"
"i forgot to wash them twice!" he turned around on the couch. "all because i said i thought it was cute when you mumble in your sleep and keep me up all night--"
"listen. i'm just doing damage control for you, hong," you pulled down a bag of chips, carefully rolled and clipped to keep them fresh. making your way back over, you continued, "really, you should be hiring me. i called you beautiful and mentioned those big brown bambi eyes." you threw yourself down next to him, bag crinkling as you unrolled it. you held up the first chip, an offering to him that he leaned over to take. "i think i deserve payment for it all."
but he grinned at you, settling back in. "i'll think about it. i'll get the big box of poptarts next time," he poked your side, just hard enough to get you to move off of his blanket, and then drew you right back in once he could throw it over you. "and i'll let you pick the first movie."
with a roll of your eyes, you reached for the controller. "what a gentleman."
wen junhui
your life was truly, sincerely, over. this was it. this was the big one. the big fuck-up that would kill you from embarrassment alone. if you were a sim in the sims 4, little sim jihoon would be sobbing over your body right now as the grim reaper came to take you away.
instead, he was just stiffling his laughter, patting the top of your head as you bury your face in a pillow. "it's not that bad."
"it's terrible! i was only posting that picture because we looked good!" you jerked up, staring at him. "and--and jun liked it! did he not read the caption?!"
"oh, he read it," soonyoung was doing something unholy in the kitchen, from the sounds of the ketchup bottle being opened alongside the smell of mayo. not another thing to ruin your day. "he's on his way home, by the way."
yep, this was how you died. surrounded by two of your roommates and being confronted by the guy you've had feelings for for... fuck, how long had you known him? since college? he'd been there for you after a particularly nasty breakup not long after the two of you met, and that was when your stupid heart fell for him. you'd always pushed back against it: it wasn't the right time. he was dating someone at one point. he wouldn't like you back. but the more the two of you started spending time alone, the deeper you fell.
"have you thought about just telling him how you feel?" jihoon asked, stealing your pillow and hugging it against his chest. "i know it's scary, but i don't think it'd go badly."
soonyoung looked over, condiments smeared on the outsides of his mouth as he chewed. he swallowed, wiping his face with a paper towel as he spoke, "even if he didn't like you, he'd let you down easily."
"soonyoung!" jihoon turned to face him. you rarely saw jihoon mad, but this had to be the closest.
soonyoung realized what he said. and immediately took off, shutting himself back into his room as jihoon raced to encounter him first. while he tried to jostle the door open, the yelling faded into background noise.
jun... what?
the apartment door opened after a while, wonwoo standing there with jun right behind him. without hesitating, you hopped up off of the couch, immediately excusing yourself as you went to hide in your own room. jun called after you, and you just shut the door behind you, face in your hands. this could not be happening. this wasn't happening. if soonyoung was telling the truth, and, because jihoon yelled at him, he definitely was... what now?
jun knocked on your door. everything outside of your room was silent now. if jihoon was chewing out soonyoung, you'd probably hear some of it. yet... quiet. peaceful quiet that you weren't exactly used to with this bunch.
"can we talk?" he spoke up after a moment. "i don't exactly get the caption, but... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"
oh. he had no idea it was some meme you'd seen online that always reminded you of him. yet the gentle way he'd asked made your heart flutter all the same. you said nothing, just sitting with your back against the door.
"it's okay if you do." you could hear the sound of him moving, and slowly, it sounded as though he was sitting, too. "i... i think you have pretty eyes, too." was it possible to hear his uneasy smile in the way his voice shook just a little, his nerves so, so evident? "the others left, by the way. so we could talk. wonwoo was confused, but jihoon dragged both him and soonyoung out for a walk."
that answered one question, at least. again, you just said nothing, curling up as tight as you could. your heart hammered in your ears, and you shut your eyes. was this really happening?
"i've liked you for a long time," he said, voice just as gentle as it was before. like he, too, was scared of what this all meant. the two of you were crossing a line you never thought you'd even tread near, let alone vault over. "it's okay if you don't feel the exact same way. but... you're sweet. and i--"
you bit the bullet. you got up, opening your door to see jun turning to face you. he'd been sitting there, back against the door, talking to the air while you'd been too scared to face him. he stood up as quickly as he could, watching you carefully.
he was the one who spoke first. "hi."
"hi." you said it back, heart racing. "i think you're beautiful."
and oh-so-shyly he smiled back at you. "i... think you're beautiful, too."
maybe this would be the start of something good.
kwon soonyoung
with your eyes screwed shut, you knew that seungcheol was going to give you so, so much shit about this when you told him. knowing your luck, it was going to go horribly, and you'd probably die right here and it'd be your ghost haunting seungcheol... but that was something you could deal with.
yet the moment 'tiger kwon' popped up on your phone, you knew you couldn't avoid this forever. you'd pester soonyoung later for changing his name in your phone again. for now, you just answered the request for a video call, and you were met with those pretty eyes staring at you in the low light.
"hi." he giggled. "i don't think that text was meant for me."
astute observation, considering the first three messages before you gushed about his eyes and called him beautiful were "FUCK" and "CHEOL I CAN'T DO THIS" and then a picture of the two of you from when you grabbed dinner together earlier. you expressed your romantic frustrations in the only way you knew how: a screenshot you'd seen of someone's tweet. the same thing you'd said to seungcheol many, many times before.
"so what does that even mean?" he's grinning, and you knew that it's half-genuine. he was smart enough to get the gist of it (to put it simply: you were, as you'd been told, down bad) but you weren't sure how often soonyoung saw memes like this. he was watching your face, those cute eyes shining with the light from his phone screen, and he rolled onto his stomach. "when did you get worse at technology than me?"
was this what confessing to soonyoung would bring? a lifetime of having a cute man tease you oh-so-lovingly?
"are you alive?"
you managed to squeak out a deeply embarrassed, "yep."
he just giggled, head resting on his hand. "do you text seungcheol like that a lot?" he waited. and when you didn't answer, too embarrassed to speak, he continued on, "i think he and jihoon trade war stories, then. jihoon..." his cheeks were dusted red. "jihoon hears a lot about you."
holy fuck. your stomach was doing flips. "soonyoung?"
"this is embarrassing, isn't it?" he chuckled, eyes focusing on his screen again. "jihoon said it's some sort of joke. vernon showed it to him once. but... i think you're beautiful, too."
truly, this man would be the death of you if he kept smiling at you like that. like you were his world already, eyes shiny and cheeks red.
"i..." your mouth felt dry. "can we... maybe... a date?" something about seeing his face right now made your mind go blank.
he chuckled. "i'm free this weekend," he said, still smiling. "we'll talk tomorrow morning. okay?"
"okay." you licked your lips, just trying to come down from this high. "goodnight."
the moment he ended the call, you were texting seungcheol: LET'S FUCKING GO GOT A DATE W SOONYOUNG!!!
and in return, he sent you three words: about fucking time.
jeon wonwoo
people always warned you about marrying the love of your life. the honeymoon period was something strong, that tinted your days with sugary kisses and honeyed skies until it all dissolved when reality washed back over the two of you. yet you had been married to wonwoo for two years now, and that sweetness never seemed to melt from your lives. the honeymoon period was over, yes, but the work you put into your relationship kept things lively. arguments came and went, and you always found yourself enamored with the man who guarded your heart in the same way you guarded his.
that was why anniversaries were special. not because they were another milestone, another celebration of a year the two of you made together... but an excuse to gush about wonwoo. you kept it to two days in particular: your wedding anniversary, and his birthday, both dates set months apart. wonwoo was different than you, however: he didn't want to broadcast his feelings for the world to see. he reserved all the sweet things for words he physically wrote down for you to read, or as things he said to you outright when he was sappy enough.
and you? well... he knew your true feelings would never be one-hundred-percent out there. those were reserved for him. but if you wanted to gush about how much you loved him, then who was he to stop you?
he'd been scrolling through his instagram feed that night while brushing his teeth, only to snort when he finished reading your post. the duality of your relationship was beautiful: he'd posted a short, sweet caption for you underneath a lovely quote from a book the two of you loved. and you had gushed... and finished it off with a meme that you sent to him the moment you saw it. i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. the same words you teased him with when you were in a particularly playful mood.
so when he returned to you, he just crawled into bed, pressing kisses against your face. his affectionate moods would always take you by surprise, and he was glad for that. it spiced up the relationship just a little that he was still able to surprise you after all this time.
"you're so cute," he curled up with you, pulling you into his arms. "happy anniversary. i love you."
you snorted a little. "i see you've noticed."
"should i have read it sooner?"
you waved him off, "no, no... i'm glad you didn't see it until now. check the comments when you get the chance. a bunch of your friends loved it."
he was sure that they did. they all seemed to adore the duality of the two of you more than he did. the quiet, studious wonwoo and his silly love who made him laugh more than anyone else. but he knew as well as you did: no one would love your dynamic more than the two of you did.
he was your home, just as you had become his.
lee jihoon
all jihoon wanted to do was ask if you wanted to go to dinner. he'd suggested a place, you'd suggested another, and he mentioned not wanting that kind of cuisine... only for the words to appear on his phone within the next few minutes: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.
... beautiful?
"soonyoung!" he yelled out for one of his housemates. if he wasn't here, then seungcheol would come in. yet he heard the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, soonyoung sliding against the wooden floor a little as he looked in. "read this."
so he did. he read it once, and then again before looking up. "... they're flirting with you, i think."
"that's weird, right?" jihoon looked up. "they don't like me back."
"how do you know that?" soonyoung grinned, leaning against the empty doorframe. "you don't know that. they're hitting on you. shoot your shot."
"i'm not going to--"
his phone started to ring. he looked down, wide-eyed, as he realized you started to call him. before he could debate denying the call and pretending the text never came, soonyoung bolted forward, answering it before immediately leaving his room. the little shit--
"oh my god," you said, "i'm so, so fucking sorry--mingyu's here and i was trying to look up other places to eat on my laptop, and he had the bright idea to text you that shit. i left my phone alone for one minute, and this is what happened--"
"why would he text me that?" jihoon could feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest. why would mingyu tease him like that? mingyu knew that you were off limits when it came to this kind of thing. unless...
"i--well, i--" you stammered, all sentences melting in your mouth before you finally let out a long sigh. in the background, he could hear mingyu begin to laugh. "shut up!" and then the sound of a door slamming behind you. "fucking--" you let out a sigh. "sorry. made the mistake of putting you on speaker."
"that's okay." jihoon leaned against the back of the chair. "but my question...?"
with another sigh, he could hear you settle into something. a chair, a couch--he wasn't sure. "this isn't how i wanted this to go... but... i like you. and i guess mingyu's had enough of hearing about it. it's okay if you don't feel the same, but... that's all."
quiet. neither of you moved to speak, to pitch another restaurant to go to. jihoon opened a new tab on his browser, already typing in a new search for the best places to take a first date.
"jihoon?"
no point in not taking the leap now. you'd already taken the first step: he could do the next one. "can... can tonight be our first date, then? instead of us getting dinner as friends."
quiet.
"jihoon..." your voice was soft. "i'd love that."
note to self: thank mingyu.
xu minghao
"what does this mean?" minghao looked up from his phone, where you could clearly see the post you'd made earlier. it was a combination of candids and the actual pretty pictures you'd taken of him, all captioned with a joke. he began typing something out, "we bickered about toast this morning."
"oh my god, hao--"
then your phone buzzed. you looked down, and there it was: minghao calling you out on your own damn post. when you looked up from your phone, he just had that stupid smug grin on his face. he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as he waited for you to defend yourself.
"it's a joke. it's a meme. maybe you should learn them, old man."
he rolled his eyes. "it's a lie and i'm not standing for it. everyone knows that we argue about everything."
even before the two of you started dating, you'd bicker about the smallest things. none of it was ever serious--the two of you had only fought a handful of times in the entirety of knowing one another--but you remembered the annoyed look you would get sometimes. just go make out already had been what his friends would say. eventually, it turned into mingyu telling minghao to go ahead and give you the marriage papers already. the two of you were in it for life, weren't you?
which, ultimately, turned into you and minghao bickering about that, too. the two of you hadn't even been dating at the time, but you would both be lying if you said that conversation hadn't made the two of you figure out your feelings. you'd retorted that minghao wouldn't get along with your parents like that, leading to him actively calling them to prove that, yes, in fact, he would.
(you would simply never live down both of them going "he isn't your boyfriend? we were waiting for you to be ready to tell us," and the subsequent call where your mother chewed you out for hanging up on her right after.)
"we don't argue about everything."
minghao gave you a pointed look. "strawberry jam."
you pinched the bridge of your nose. "not this shit again. i thought we agreed that butter is--"
... fuck, he was proving his point.
"fine," you said. "we bicker a lot. doesn't mean i can't lie via meme."
he just smiled, happy to have won whatever little argument this almost turned into. "everyone knows this is our love language," he said, head resting in his hand. "but fine. you can lie through your memes."
and thus he put the two of you on equal grounds once again: a truce, in a sense. just like most of your little debates ended in.
kim mingyu
"you know you could just call me pretty if you wanted to."
your face burned at the way mingyu was giggling now. all you did was text him a meme (yes, from the other end of the couch) and wait for his response. he'd read it under his breath before bursting into giggles, so, so enamored with the way that you were. he always had been: mingyu, unlike you, wasn't shy when it came to his affection. he complimented you constantly on anything and everything, whether it be your appearance or the way you rambled to him or the way you clammed up "all cutely embarrassed" (his words, not yours) when you realized just how much you said. you told him once that you weren't the most open about your feelings or the loudest.
and he'd merely kissed your forehead and said that was okay. he was loud enough for the both of you. if loving him quietly meant that you loved him, then that was all that mattered to him.
you whined his name at him, trying to hide your face. you knew that you always would get this doe-eyed, dreamy look on your face whenever he teased you like this. you caught a glimpse of it in a mirror once when you were at a store buying furniture, and swore to yourself you'd never let him catch you like this so obviously ever again.
of course, that was moot because mingyu saw that sappy look on your face and treasured it every time... but for your own sake, you couldn't let him notice.
yet he laughed anyway, crawling over to pull your hands away from your face. "i mean it!" he squished your cheeks, "just call me pretty next time. that's what you wanted to say, right?"
you pushed his hands away from your face, just so that you could speak clearly. "i think you have pretty eyes."
his smile dropped, eyes going wide. and he slowly pulled away, face turning redder by the second as he turned from you. "you can't just say it like that! i wasn't prepared!"
you felt a little bold this time. "whatever you say, beautiful--"
the groan that mingyu let out, fully flustered by you now, only made you feel more confident in teasing him. no wonder his friends loved to pick on him... he was so cute about it.
lee seokmin
the minute you finished saying it, seokmin had burst into giggles. all because you wanted to jokingly flirt with your beloved and see his reaction. he had looked up from his phone, where he'd been idly googling to find dinner options, and then you could see those gears turning before he started laughing.
"really?" he reached over, drawing you into his arms. "so you won't argue with me tonight?" seokmin squished your cheeks to pucker your lips, planting an loud kiss against them. "all because you think i'm beautiful?"
you just fought back a laugh, reaching up to toy with the hair at the base of his neck. "whatever you want, beautiful."
another giggle burst past his lips, and he dropped one hand down, sliding it up your thigh. "do you mean it? or are you just flirting with me?" he gently squeezed your thigh, just a little. "you don't have to flirt with me like that. i'm already yours."
ever the romantic. you drew him in for another quick kiss, soflty laughing against his lips. "gotta keep you here somehow," you teased. "it's hard to compete with you when you're mister perfect."
his nose brushed against your own. "i think you keep up just fine." he paused, drumming his fingers against the outside of your thigh idly. "can i confess something?"
you watched him curiously. "huh?"
"your best friend..." his hand slid up to your hip before he loosely draped his arms around your waist. "when we got together, they messaged me to tell me you talk about my eyes a lot."
oh no. "you know you have pretty eyes--"
"like a baby seal." he giggled. "and something about having puppy dog eyes, too."
ohhh no. of course they'd rat you out. "but am i wrong?"
he just nuzzled his nose against your own for a minute, planting a tiny kiss against the tip of it. "i just like you. you're so silly, it's cute."
with a smile, you just settled against him. "i mean it, though. pick wherever you want, beautiful." his giggles only made you happier. "i'll pay."
boo seungkwan
"chan and i bicker less than we do."
seungkwan wasn't phased by your flirty word or the way you were trying to call him beautiful (my boo-tiful boo, if your silly phone contact was anything to go by). he just looked up from his phone with a flat expression, which... probably meant he saw that post somewhere for himself. the lack of originality probably also got you here.
"okay, fine, that's true," you said, rolling your eyes. "you're still beautiful, though."
"i know that," he said. "but we argue a lot over silly stuff. vernon said he thinks it's a love language."
another roll of your eyes. "seungkwan, we don't argue that much."
"don't we? remember that time the neighbors got concerned because we got a little too heated about the way one of our dramas ended?" he crossed his arms. "i still think the ending was good, but you got angry over the way it tried to incorporate greek myth and--"
"it was incorporating greek tragedy and didn't give it the sad ending!" you threw your hands up in the air. "don't promote it as being based on the myth if you aren't going to have a tragic ending!"
"it didn't have to! it was a retelling! things don't have to adhere strictly to--"
chan's door opened, and he walked out of his room. he looked at the two of you before groaning. "this fight again?"
"we're not arguing!" the two of you said together, turning to face him.
chan just rolled his eyes, making his way over to the kitchen. "sure..." then he took one look at the two of you, shaking his head. "i'm going to see if yeonjun wants to go out. don't do anything until i'm gone or have headphones on."
"we don't--"
"you do. just keep arguing or whatever," he pulled out his phone, walking back to his room.
his door shut. and the two of you just looked at each other. seungkwan rolled his eyes, flopping back down on his end of the couch.
"i hate him," he said offhandedly, no venom behind it. you knew just as well as seungkwan did that if chan was in trouble, seungkwan would be one of the first to run there. "who does he think he is? he always acts as if he knows our relationship better than we do."
you slid over closer to him, and he lifted an arm so that you could cuddle in. "he's a jerk," you said, again, no real malice behind it at all. "you should come live with me."
he rolled his eyes. "you always say that." he turned his face, kissing your temple. "like we don't have plans already."
once his lease was up. but you just looked up at him, smiling a little. "whatever you say, beautiful."
that shy smile told you all you needed to know. keep calling me sweet things, then.
chwe vernon
"uh-huh." he didn't even look up from his phone, scrolling through his youtube history. "did i send you this video?"
you frowned. "you're not even going to say anything?"
"you've used that on me before." he continued to scroll. he looked up for just a moment. "also, i'm thinkin'... maybe we could go get tacos for lunch? haven't been to that place in a while." vernon turned his attention back to his phone. "i'm down for whatever, though."
with a groan, you slumped into the couch, already googling for cheesy pick-up lines. the back-up plan, always, for when you need to tease your boyfriend. "hey, nonny? do you have a map--"
"because you're lost in my eyes," he said without missing a beat. "actually, i'm really craving tacos now. i think we could get an order to-go if you don't feel like going out."
he hated you. this had to explain everything. "do you believe in love at first sight--"
"i might," he moved over so that he was closer to you, pulling your legs into his lap. "so, were you being legit about the not arguing thing? because i might take my chance and order anyway."
with a roll of your eyes, you gave up. you weren't going to win this time around. "get your tacos, beautiful," you reached up, turning his face toward you. "i'll pay."
he snorted, bursting into giggles as he leaned over to kiss you. "you're such a dork."
you just smiled into his kiss. "but you love it."
lee chan
you loved confusing chan so, so much. all he did was ask what you wanted for dinner, and you hit him back with "whatever you want, beautiful. i'm not gonna argue with a man who has big brown eyes." thus began the confused looks as he looked at you, then his phone, unsure of how to respond to that.
"... what?"
"i said we can get whatever you want," you shrugged. "i'm not picky--"
"that's not what you said." he frowned just a little, clearly aware that you were teasing him in some way... but not quite connecting the dots quite yet. "you never call me beautiful," was what he settled on a moment later.
which was true. you often opted to call him handsome, usually with a soft laugh and a smile that showed just how endeared to him you really were. on occasion, you'd call something about him pretty--the way he styled his hair, or the makeup he wore once when mingyu roped him into being a model for him--but beautiful? as much as you thought he was (chan deserved all the complimentary words, in your humble, unbiased opinion), you'd never voiced that opinion to him directly. the closest was the time you told one of your friends that he had beautiful eyes.
he narrowed his eyes at you. "is this a joke?" for a split second, he glanced down at the phone in your hands. "... are you recording?"
"i can't call my man 'beautiful'?" you put on a fake pout, just to tease him further. "you really think i'm cruel enough to make fun of you like that?"
chan, however, knew you. he knew that you were easily swayed into pulling pranks on him. that time he introduced you to jeonghan was enough proof of that--and every subsequent trip with his friends always seemed to result in them picking out his weak spot and turning you against him, just for a simple joke. if it bothered him, he would have said something... but it did leave him fully aware that you were the kind of person to lovingly tease him.
lovingly, he told himself. he knew it was. but sometimes he wondered if you were put on this planet just to mess with him in a way he'd secretly love. if you were going to be the death of him, then at least he'd die loving you.
"okay." he made his way over, pulling up a restaurant. he showed you his screen, and immediately you focused on the fact that this place was far from cheap. "i want to go here."
"channie, we--"
"you just said you weren't going to argue," he smiled at you, leaning against you. "hm?"
with a sigh, you shook your head. "whatever you want, beautiful," you reached up. "i'll just eat ramen for the next few weeks--"
he snorted, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "just book it for our anniversary, then." he paused for a moment, just watching you with a tiny smile. "... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"
how could you say anything other than 'yes' when he was staring at you with them?
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taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog
@actuallynarii @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunnyunny
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risingoftime · 10 months
Text
one night only
⤷ coriolanus snow x fem!reader: coriolanus’s classmates gets him a personal birthday present.
contains: 18+ MDNI, virginity loss, escort!reader, virgin!coriolanus, porn with plot, dub-con, smut, oral, p in v, sex work, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation.
word count — 2k
From above, you observed a line of women entering Pluribus's nightclub from the changerooms. Each woman seemed to cater to every man's fantasies, meticulously groomed and prepared for what the night might bring. As your turn to go on stage approached, the music transformed into a slow and seductive rhythm, signalling your cue. Taking one final swig of the strong white liquor, you felt a burning sensation as it went down your throat, causing your eyes to water. The spotlight illuminated the top of the staircase. It was now or never.
Your sheer daisy blue robe hinted at the white lace lingerie hidden underneath; almost everyone’s eyes were on you. Almost. A single gentleman by the bar with his friends kept his eyes on the stirring glass of moonshine that he held in his hand. He masked his face as bored and indifferent, but his body language communicated a different story, tight and wound up as if he’d be ready to bolt at any moment. It was evident that his friends dragged him here. He stood out like a sore thumb with his buzzcut light blonde hair and tall, broad physique. The lighting was low, but you knew who he was instantly: Coriolanus Snow, the first student-mentor from the Academy. He’d helped that girl from District 12. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys, especially ones with deep pockets that would pay a hefty price for just one night.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like to introduce our one and only Capitol Gem.” It took everything within you not to roll your eyes at the nickname Pluribus had come up with as you descended the steps. Hoots and whistles erupted from the crowd as your hips swayed with each move, flowing through different positions to accentuate your flexibility. In a passive motion, you unwrapped your robe with a coy smile on your lips, entirely in character now. Gone was the girl from District 11. The song's base bounced off the wall, creating a numbing hum in your chest and ears. Combined with the liquor, it was easy to ignore the lust-filled stares. The robe cascaded at your feet, fully exposing your scantily covered body. Some men began throwing cash on stage, yelling, “Take it all off, baby.”
You swiftly climbed the pole, contorting your body to swirl around, allowing them to view you from all angles. This is what they came for, to watch you—whining your waist up and down while holding the rod, serving the fantasy of how you’d look when riding someone’s cock. Dropping into a split, the crowd went wild. Glancing at the public, you could see the other women beginning lap dances, writhing their bodies to the rhythm of the music. Coriolanus kept his eyes on the drink in hand, only glancing up to sip the moonshine. Your eyes met briefly, and he offered a shy smile before his friend caught his attention to whisper something in his ear. Coriolanus shook his head in protest, but his friend seemed too intoxicated to care about their friend's opinion. The man was slightly shorter with dark brown curls and had a big, goofy smile as he unfurled a fat wad of cash from his pocket. The friend pushed it against Coriolanus’s chest, forcing him to grip the money before it dropped on the dirty speakeasy floors. If you didn’t approach them now, then another girl would.
Elongating your body across the stage, you grabbed the miscellaneous bills of cash on the floor into a pile and stowed them away in the bag you hid by the steps. Pluribus knew your routine and smoothly transitioned to a new tune. With a charming smile, you quickly walked through the crowd, evading eager hands, keeping your eyes on the prize - Coriolanus Snow. But before you could approach him and introduce yourself, his unnamed friend positioned himself between you.
“Hello, Darlin, I’m Augustus,” he slurred your stage name as if it was meant to remain secret. His skin glistened, and the smell of alcohol reeked from his pores. Poor thing was drunk off of his ass. Augustus’s other friends watched, amused at him, while Coriolanus sorted and pocketed the money into his pants.
“What can I do for you, baby?”
“Oh no, not me! For my dear friend Coryo. It’s his birthday! Think he needs a private dance–”
“He needs more than that!” One of the boys quipped, earning quite a few laughs. There appeared to be only a few members from Capitol University, but you only saw walking dollar signs. “Well, it’s only your birthday for one night; I can make it worthwhile,” You replied. They nodded eagerly and practically shoved Coriolanus to stand in front of you. His eyes widened, and his face tinged pink with embarrassment.
“I– I’m sorry about them.” He fumbled over his words as he tried his hardest to keep eye contact and not wander further down to your breasts. You appreciated the effort. Quite the change of character in comparison to what you were used to.
“Don't worry, I don’t bite! But I do need to be paid before we go any further.” You looked up at him and his friends shyly, laying the innocent role on them thick, and they did not hesitate to hand you a sum of money that could cover all of your monthly costs. The sons of Capital families were always the easiest to deceive. They’d learn eventually.
You led Coriolanus upstairs to a simple and minimalist room, clean and warm. He let go of your hand before you could guide him to the bed.
“We don’t have to–”
“Don’t have to what… fuck? Are you a prude?” The question came off more blunt than you had intended; your surprise was evident. Many men of the Capitol fantasized about fucking a girl from the districts with the presumption of sex being more exotic with women who did not come from the same socioeconomic background. Yet he seemed bashful and unsure of how to converse with you and, nonetheless, have sex. “No, no, it’s not that…” His eyes wandered around the room, avoiding eye contact. In the dim lighting, you could still see his cheeks flush with embarrassment or perhaps from the alcohol - most likely both.
“Oh. You’re a virgin.” It became painfully apparent as his face deepened in shades from pink to beet red at your discovery. “It’s hard to believe the Coriolanus Snow hasn’t been with anyone. Has no one caught your eye? You are quite popular amongst the Capitol.” You walked to the bed and lay on the duvet facing him.
“There was this one girl, but it didn’t work out.”
“So you've never thought to act on impulse on your desires? or are you a romantic?” His answer to the question was inconsequential, but it would’ve been a lie to say you weren’t attracted or intrigued by the young man standing before you. The real question you wanted to ask was whether he’d act on his desires with you. Would he give in?
“I’m far from a romantic,” he confessed.
He walked to the bed and tentatively sat beside you. Coriolanus was watching you now, allowing his eyes to take you in. Your supple dark skin glowed in contrast to the crisp white lingerie set. If he looked closely, he would see your hardened nipples underneath the unlined lace. His heated gaze made you feel aroused without even being touched - a foreign sensation you hadn't felt in a while. Coriolanus's face drew closer to yours, lips mere inches apart.
You weren't sure who made the first move, but everything else faded away when his lips met yours. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, slightly tugging it to deepen the kiss. Coriolanus’s tongue slid over yours, and he tasted like mint and moonshine. You whispered between kisses, “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Snow.” Taking one of your hands, Coriolanus guided your hands to his clothed crotch. “Tell me,” you repeated with another kiss.
“Suck me off.”
Unbuckling Coriolanus’s pants revealed a deep v line to his long, girthy cock sprung free from his pants. He inhaled sharply as your tongue trailed his length from the base to the tip before taking the head of his dick in your mouth. You watched as Coriolanus bit back a moan while he watched began sucking the precum leaking from his slit.
“Oh fuck” he rasped. Your head began bobbing up and down his cock with lips wet from saliva, using your hands and mouth together to make sweet pressure build up in his core. The once untouchable Coriolanus Snow was like putty in your hands, whimpering and begging for you to provide him release. You looked up to meet his eyes as he watched and moaned pitifully, trying his best to hold back. Snow looked so pretty like this, vulnerable. “Shit, I- you’re so beautiful,” he groaned. Coriolanus inhaled sharply as you continued to suck his dick, taking it all in your mouth with precision.
“I’m going to cum” Coriolanus cried out.
As you removed his member from your mouth, strands of saliva trailed behind. You continued to stroke him slowly with your hands. "No, not yet. I'm not done with you," you said, shimmying out of your panties. Grinding your wetness against him, you teasingly rubbed your pussy against his cock. Positioning yourself to let your clit rub against him, you worked yourself up, feeling an indescribable need for more. Your tightness clenched around nothing, longing to be filled by Coriolanus. "Snow put it inside me." The chemistry between the two of you intensified.
Coriolanus fumbled with the condom before gliding it on his member. Sinking onto his cock, you were unsure if you can take it all. With each inch, your body shook, waves of pleasure overcame your body once he was entirely in, and arousal pooled between you. Digging his fingers into your ass, in a calm voice, “Your pussys’ so tight,” Coriolanus said. He pounded into you relentlessly as you straddled him. His hooded eyes trained on your cunt, taking him all in. Wet slapping sounds filled the room, betraying the explicit activities within.
“Fuck, slow down. I'm going to cum Corio-”
His lips overtook yours once more in a passionate kiss as he panted between each thrust. “Feel s’good,” Coriolanus slurred. His toned arms wrapped around you, locking you into position with no room to run from his dick, completely taking possession of your body. Your silky walls coiled around him, only for Coriolanus to take. Both of your waists moved frantically as the tension between the two was about to snap.
"Cum inside me, baby," you purred. Coriolanus was on the edge, lost in the sensation of your pussy as he thrust into you. His movements became languid and sloppy. "Ugh, don't stop," Coriolanus choked out between moans. His breath hitched, and his grip tightened as you rode him toward orgasm.
“You’re all mine,” he growled.
“Only for tonight, just one night.” You huffed, still slick with sweat and your juices. Your clit throbbed each time you rolled your hips. Coriolanus erection is still hard inside of you. He got his, and now it was your turn to get yours. He winced at the continued friction as you bounced on top of him. His once rough grasp around you turned gentle, unable to handle the pace that you set.
“I… I can’t.”
“Shhhh, let me take care of you.”
You placed tender kisses along his neck before gently nibbling on his earlobes. The heightened sensitivity awakened a different side of Coriolanus. "I'm gonna cum again," he sighed, blissed out. Your pussy tightened like a vice grip as your legs trembled in bliss, milking him of every last drop of cum, leaving you both feeling euphoric.
"That was fucking amazing... I never..." After struggling to form a coherent sentence, Coriolanus touched your chin, guiding your lips back to his. It was intimate as you melded into each other, foreheads pressed together. Coriolanus and you remained in that position for what felt like hours, inhaling each other's breath.
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pedrospatch · 2 years
Text
jealous
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You aren't together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. asshole Joel, jealous Joel, he softens up a bit though. established dynamic, Joel and reader have known each other for a decade.
word count: 2k
a/n: highkey i recycled this idea from myself b/c jealous Joel is like...so hot to me. i love this trope, my favorite variant is when he gets aggressively possessive however i don't think i can top some of the amazing fics out there that have gone that direction so i took a softer, fluffier approach to it. also, happy tlou finale day everyone, we'll get through it all together 💗
Jackson, Wyoming
Winter 2024
“Before you head out for patrol, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night.”
Joel’s blood boiled hot in each and every single vein in his entire body as he watched the scene that was unfolding before him just outside of the horse stables. It was late in the evening, and Tommy’s group was gearing up to head out for tonight’s patrol.
You had just finished saddling up your borrowed horse, Daisy, when Owen had sauntered up to you. Joel didn’t know the man, aside from his name. He had been placed in Owen’s patrol group once or twice in the past several months since returning to Jackson, but for the most part, he’d never spoken more than two words to him, and even when he had, it was only when he really didn’t have a choice. Though he didn’t know Owen, one thing was for damn fucking sure—he didn’t like the way that he was looking at you.
And he definitely didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.
In the decade that he’d known you, Joel had never seen you lay your eyes on another man before, not until this very moment.
And it was bothering the fucking shit out of him.
“Yeah, I had a really nice time too,” You replied, flashing him a warm and friendly smile. It was in your nature to be sweet and kind to just about anyone you felt you could trust, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but seeing you interact so effortlessly with him only made Joel’s anger bubble even hotter.
Owen reached out to take your hand in his and Joel angrily clenched his fists the moment he touched you. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a night when you’re not stuck with patrol duty?” he suggested.
You nodded, smiling once again. “Sure, I’d really like that.”
Joel couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
He was mere seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. Though he had every desire to go up to Owen, snatched his hand away from yours and give him a piece of his mind, Joel had to remind himself that the last thing he needed to do was cause any kind of trouble in the settlement—Maria wouldn’t have any of that in her community, even if he was her husband’s brother.
After taking a minute to somewhat calm himself enough to a point where he knew he wouldn’t throw a punch, he stiffly walked towards the two of you, calling your name. “Hate to interrupt,” he practically sneered, “But we’re startin’ to lose our time. Tommy’s waitin’ for us at the gate.”
Owen grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand. “Sorry about that, Miller. I didn’t mean to keep your patrol partner, here.”
Ignoring him, Joel narrowed his dark brown eyes at you. “Get on the horse and let’s fuckin’ go. Now.”
Your smile faded, your mouth falling open slightly in shock at his tone.
Though you knew Joel had always been rough around the edges with other people, he’d never spoken to you like that before. For a brief moment, it almost felt like he’d just slapped you across the face.
Without waiting for your response, he whirled around on the heel of his leather boot in the snow and stalked off towards his waiting stallion, his rifle hanging over his shoulder.
Owen frowned, letting go of your hand. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered slightly. “But I’m certainly going to find out.”
After bidding a quick goodbye to Owen, you quickly walked over to Joel just before he could climb up into the saddle of his horse.
“Excuse me, but what the fucking hell was that?” You asked fiercely as you approached him. 
With his back still to you, he rigidly replied, “What was what?”
“Get on the horse and let’s fucking go. Now,” You mimicked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “How dare you fucking talk to me like that! What’s your fucking problem?”
He remained silent.
“Joel?” You waited for a moment, but still, he said nothing. “Hello? Joel, I’m talking to you! Answer me!”
Slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes had gone stone cold.
You’d seen him give those eyes to others before, but he had never given them to you.
“In case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot of work to do around here. Tommy and Maria expect both of us to pull our fuckin’ weight if we want to stay here. You understand that?”
“But Joel—”
“We don’t have time for you to stand around flirtin’ with your little boyfriend over there and wastin’ time.”
Despite being angry, you could have laughed—you almost did.
Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you managed to hold it back.
“First of all, we’re not fucking teenagers, Joel, so cut that shit out,” You said, letting your arms drop back down to your sides. “I hardly know Owen. We met at the Tipsy Bison last night, we had a few drinks and we were just telling each other that we had a good time, that’s all.”
Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, ain’t that fuckin’ sweet.”
You raised your eyebrows at him, taken aback by his behavior.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, Joel Miller, I would say that you were jealous or something,” You accused him. You felt a shiver go up and down the length of your spine. It was hard to tell if it was because of the frigid, negative degree temperatures outside—or was it due to the fact that there was actually a possibility that the man you had been helplessly in love with for almost ten years now was bothered by the idea of you being with someone else?
He scoffed in response. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain’t jealous.”
“Then why the hell are you so upset?”
“I ain’t upset, either.”
“Okay, then why else would you be acting like such a damn asshole towards me?” You challenged him, causing his jaw to clench tightly. “If you’re not jealous, then why do you look like you’re fucking ready to murder Owen with your bare hands?”
Joel groaned out of frustration. “Jesus, can you just fuckin’ drop it? We have to leave before Tommy—”
You reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out, Joel. I need to know what’s going on with you. Please. Just fucking talk to me.”
He snatched his arm out of your grasp and took a step back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? That you’re absolutely right? That I’m fuckin’ jealous? That the second I saw that prick take your hand, it took every single ounce of strength I had inside me not to walk over and knock his fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”
You exhaled the shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. “Joel, you have no fucking right to be jealous. You know how I feel about you, you have always known how I fucking feel about you. But you were the one who told me that we couldn’t be together, that we could never be together.” Your voice began to tremble, and you paused for a brief moment, trying to collect yourself. “You’re the one who said that we’d never be anything more than smuggling partners. Even after everything that’s happened with us, what we’ve been through with Ellie—you still keep me at arm’s length, now more than ever before.”
“So you finally found somebody else,” he stated, bitterly. “That it? You tryin’ to move on from me?”
“Yes. No.” You let out a small groan, knowing that if there was one thing you could not do, it was lie to Joel. “Yes, okay? I’ve been trying to fucking move on from you.”
Joel’s stomach sank at your admission. “And he’s the guy, huh?”
“Owen is a nice guy. And I really liked spending time with him—” You looked up at him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, alright?” You continued quickly before he could say anything. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now, Joel. Ever since we came back to Jackson, things have changed. Do you think I haven’t noticed that we only ever talk when we’re sent out on patrol together? That we don’t eat our meals together anymore like we used to? That whenever I even try and approach you, you make up some excuse to leave, even when we’re in our own fucking house?” Hot, frustrated tears blurred your vision. Not wanting to cry, you furiously blinked them back. “Ellie asked me the other day if something was wrong with us. Even she notices the way you’ve been treating me these last few months, Joel. How you avoid me like I’m the fucking plague.”
Joel opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, not knowing what to say.
“You can’t be upset with me for trying to move on, not when you’re the one who’s been pushing me away—and I don’t just mean here in Jackson. For ten fucking years you’ve been pushing me away, Joel.” Your voice cracked, and a tear finally gave way and slipped down the side of your face.
His expression suddenly softened. “I had to push you away, darlin’.”
You subconsciously stepped closer to him. “But why?”
“Because, what I felt—what I’ve been feelin’ for you, it’s somethin’ that I didn’t think I could feel for someone ever again. It’s so strong and runs so fuckin’ deep that it scares the shit out of me,” Joel confessed, a trembling edge to his tone. “Before Wyoming, it was so fuckin’ easy not to think about it. We were too busy fightin’ to survive, to protect Ellie—now that we’re here and every goddamn day isn’t a fight for survival, things changed, alright? What I feel for you runs through my mind all fuckin’ day. There ain’t no avoidin’ it.”
“Joel—”
He cut you off. “I never meant to hurt you. When we got here, I thought it’d be best to put some distance between us. I thought that maybe if I spent less time with you, what I feel would just go away somehow. But I was wrong. Wrong and stupid to think that what I’ve been feelin’ for ten fuckin’ years would just disappear.”
“What do you feel for me, Joel?” You whispered, looking up at him.
Your eyes widened in a slight surprise as Joel reached up and gently cupped your cheek in the palm of his gloved hand. He put his other hand on your hip and pulled you as close as he possibly could to him. He looked deeply into your eyes as your arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Joel leaned down into you, and the both of you stood absolutely still, each waiting for the other to make the final move. 
Finally, it was Joel who closed the remaining distance between you and him.
He softly pressed his lips to yours. Any and all hesitation that he might have had before vanished completely as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 
“That,” he said breathlessly once he’d pulled away, “Is what I feel for you.”
“Never thought I’d see the fucking day,” You murmured against his lips, a tiny, joking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
Joel leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Look darlin’, m’real sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just that seein’ you with that prick, the thought of you with him, or with any other man that ain’t me, I just couldn’t fuckin’ handle it.” He paused briefly, taking a look around. Part of him hoped Owen was still around and watching his every move. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make sure every man in Jackson knows you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” You assured him, gently. “Believe me. You are the only man that I could ever want. I’m all yours, Joel.”
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verstappen-cult · 5 months
Text
WAVE OF YOU, C. LECLERC.
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PROLOGUE — NEXT CHAPTER. [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
PAIRING. charles leclerc x female reader.
CHAPTER ONE SUMMARY — It looks like any other shift at the coffee shop until the presence of a brown haired boy with dimples changes everything. The same boy you meet at the beach several days ago — the one who stood you up.
CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, use of Y/N, alcohol use, fluff & friends being a menace.
GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. OH MY GOD! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i was in the worst writers block of all times and couldn't get out of it :( but i forced myself to finish this today and ta-dah! i really hope you like it, your comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. remember that if you want to be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box!
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“Come on, girl! We can’t be late today.” You groan in frustration, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch Daisy shake the sand out of her fur. She sits and looks up at you with her tongue out, head slightly tilted to the side. “Good girl.” You say, giving her one of her favorite dog treats. You put the collar on her and she happily starts walking by your side. 
It’s a short walk, around ten minutes, from the beach to the coffee shop you started working at just two months ago. You like it so much that you probably spend more time there than in your own apartment. It’s cozy and family owned, and there is always a pleasant atmosphere even though there are always people coming in and out, one of the perks of having the shop so close to the beach. 
And everyone loves Daisy too, so you’re allowed to bring her with you. While you work behind the counter, she chills by the door in her bed with her favorite bunny plushie. She brings joy and bright smiles to every single person that visits the coffee shop.
You can’t believe this is your life. 
It wasn’t easy at first but making the decision to drop out of school and travel around the world wasn’t as difficult as breaking the news to your parents. And after everything you went through in these two years you deserve the good things and peace that is coming your way. 
It was all worth it, missing your family, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you made the right decision, the good and the bad… it was all worth it. You wouldn’t change a thing because it brought you to this; to Australia and to the wonderful people you’ve met. 
“Good morning, Fred.” You say to the owner of the flower shop right next door to where you work. He smiles, waving goodbye to a client, before walking out to meet you. 
“Hello, sweetheart.” His smile is contagious. You like to pass by him before going to work everyday because seeing someone be so happy and positive every single day is exactly what you need. “How was the beach today?”
“I had to drag her out of there before she got into the water.” He laughs, crouching down to pet Daisy and, in return, she licks his face. 
Fred laughs and stands up, grabbing a bouquet of tulips. “These are for the shop,” He says before turning around and grabbing a single sunflower. “and this for you.”
Fred is a French man in his fifties that came to Australia following the love of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he just left everything behind; they’ve been married for thirty years. 
“Always so sweet, Fred.” You place a kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye with the promise to bring some coffee for him later. He watches you walk away with that same big smile on his face.
You open the door of Brew’d Awakening, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries welcoming you, as well as the bulldog resting next to the door. 
“Hello to you too, Roscoe.” He huffs like telling you to hurry up. You let Daisy go and she immediately finds comfort next to Roscoe. 
There aren’t many people — it is still pretty early — just a couple of regulars that like to grab their first cup of coffee before heading to work or the beach. 
As you make your way to the counter, you find Kika sitting at one of the tables enjoying a cup of coffee while typing away on her laptop. 
“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, plopping down on a chair next to her. 
“Lewis wanted to discuss some things about the social media content,” She leans slightly to give your cheek a kiss. “and you’re meeting my boyfriend today.”
You gasp, turning to look at her with wide and surprised eyes. “What do you mean I’m meeting him?”
“I told you he’s gonna spend the summer here.” 
“Yes, but I also remember you telling me that he had to go back?” Daisy nudges your leg with her nose, and you immediately know what she wants. “So, he’s back then?” Kika hums while you look for Daisy’s plushie in your bag. 
“He’s coming because I left some things at his apartment.”
“So that’s why you didn’t come home last night.” She blushes, sticking her tongue out. “Whore.” Kika gasps, hitting you in the arm. 
“Hello, pretty ladies.” Your co-worker, who practically lives in your apartment now, leaves an iced latte in front of you. 
You take a sip of the drink, looking directly into his eyes. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you sneak out this morning.” 
“What do you mean? I wasn’t there this morning.” 
“Alex, I literally heard you and Lily laughing at three in the morning,” Alex groans, sitting in front of you. 
“In my defense,” He points a finger at you and really tries to think of something, but comes out with nothing. “Whatever, you like me too much to kick me out.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right.” You stand up when the door opens and a new customer enters.
“Good morning, kid.” Lewis gives you a pat on the back when you join him behind the counter, you kiss his cheek in return.
You spend the morning taking care of the customers while Alex and Lewis are responsible of preparing and serving the orders. It is a quiet and nice morning, like most Saturdays are, and you love it. You owe Kika everything, because if it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have found the coffee shop in the first place. She recommended you and it was all Lewis and Nico needed to hire you. 
Lewis and Nico are a gay couple that, just like you, decided to settle down in Australia after traveling to different parts of the world. They opened Brew’d Awakening just five years ago but it’s going so well they have the opportunity to expand, but refuse to do it, knowing that the warmth and coziness of the Brew’d will be lost. You respect them for that. 
You’re about to swap shifts with Alex when Kika shows up in front of you, a shy smile on her face. 
“He’s here. I like him, okay? So, be nice.”
“I’m always nice!” You exclaim a little offended. 
“I know, sorry. It’s just — I’m nervous.” She looks around before leaning closer. “He brought his friends because apparently we’re doing this ‘trade’ thing where I meet his friends and he meets mine.” 
You hold your laugh, “Cute.”
“Stop making fun of me and come here or I’ll go mad.”
“I’m taking my break, is that okay?” You ask your boss, at which he nods, giving you a thumbs up. 
You take off your apron as you walk around the counter. Kika is waiting for you in the middle of the shop, looking like a nervous wreck. 
“I’ve never seen you so nervous before.” You place a hand on her shoulder, massaging to help her relax a little. 
“Meeting the friends is a big deal.” 
Well, she is right. You just didn’t realize how serious her relationship actually was until now. 
Daisy wags her tail as she makes her way to you. And you immediately lean forward to scratch behind her ears. 
You’re too busy to pay attention to the guy wrapping his arms around your friend and kissing her lips as a greeting. It is only when Kika clears her throat, kicking your leg to draw your attention, that you force yourself to let Daisy go.
“This is Pierre.” She says as you straighten back up. “Pierre, this is my friend Y/N.”
You look at the guy in front of you for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes are a little too familiar, but the more you try to remember from where you know him, the more you think that is probably just a coincidence. 
“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” Pierre laughs, making you and Kika frown. “This is fantastic.”
“What is fantastic?” A voice draws your attention, making you look behind Pierre.
Your heart skips a beat the second you see a pair of green eyes.
The green eyes of the surfer boy you met a few weeks ago at the beach. 
Charles; who you never saw again.
It turns out that Charles wasn’t at the beach the next morning. You sat on the sand longer than necessary, thinking that maybe he was running late. But he never came. You didn’t see his friends either, so you simply picked up what was left of your dignity and walked back to your apartment with Daisy by your side. 
The morning after that you decided to confront him, but he wasn’t there. 
He never showed up at the beach again. And for a minute you thought it was all in your head, but that option was discarded when you bumped into the group of teenage girls sitting on the sand, wondering why the hot guys weren’t there. 
At least you weren’t the only one looking for them. 
You hadn’t thought about Charles in several days. 
And now he’s standing in front of you with a big smile on his handsome face.
Ugh, you had forgotten the dimples. 
“Y/N?” He asks, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here.” You mutter bitterly, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him. 
It’s childish, you have to admit it, but why is he gonna ask to see you just to not show up? And, okay, you were going to the beach the next day either way but you got all excited for nothing. You really wanted to get to know him, maybe even ask for his number. He seemed like a nice guy and his accent made butterflies erupt in your belly. But that was before he stood you up. 
Kika looks between you and Charles with a confused expression on her face. You make the mistake of making eye contact with her because the next moment she’s gasping, her eyes wide as she finally puts the pieces together. 
“Charles is the boy you met at the beach?!” You want to cover her mouth with your hand but you can barely move. You love her, you really do, but right now you want her to shut up. 
Even from a distance, you can see the way his blush spreads over his cheeks. Charles runs a hand through his hair. You would pay a million dollars just to tangle your fingers in it to see if it is as soft as it looks. 
You’re dragged back to the present when the doors open and Charles’ friends walk inside. 
“Oi look who’s here!” One of his friends says — the curly-haired one — and they wave in your direction before walking to a nearby table. Daisy recognizes them, even though they were barely a few minutes in her presence, and she walks over to them. 
“Nice to meet you, Pierre.” You plaster on a smile, turning to face him and Kika. “I wish I could stay and get to know you better, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pierre smirks, nodding along. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work.” 
You walk back to the counter without looking at Charles again. Lewis looks at you with a raised brow and you shrug, that must have been the shortest break of all times. 
You’re putting on your apron in front of the cash register, a line of customers ready to order, when you see Charles joining the line and waiting for his turn. 
“Is that Kika’s boyfriend?” Alex whispers next to you while making an order. You look at where they’re sitting, the same table where all of Pierre and Charles’ friends are. They’re actually cute, unable to keep their hands to themselves. 
You nod, busy writing the last order. “Hi, welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you?” When you look up you’re met with Charles' blushed face, a small smile directed at you. 
“Can we talk?” He looks genuinely nervous, and you feel a little guilty for making him feel that way. He’s the last one in line, so you nod. “I’m really sorry,” Charles breathes, closing his eyes. “I really wanted to be there the next morning but Pierre had to fly back to France and I couldn’t leave him alone.”
Your expression softens. He didn’t mean to stand you up then.
“We came back literally two days ago.” 
You feel really bad now. 
“Oh my God,” You let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed and so, so guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little hurt because I thought you stood me up — not that it was a date and we explicitly agreed to see each other.” You feel blood rushing to your face. 
“I wanted to text you but I didn’t have your number,” Charles frowns, a nervous smile dancing on his lips. “and I couldn’t find you on Instagram.”
Your entire body shivers and the corners of your mouth curl up. “You really looked me up on Instagram?”
“Yea’,” He chuckles, shrugging. “I wanted—no, I want to know you. You are really pretty—cool, I mean.”
“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” You lean forward, hands resting on the counter and supporting your weight. 
Charles' cheeks heat up as he tries to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. 
You take him out of his misery by giving him a little push on the shoulder. 
“I’m joking.”
Charles looks at you for a second, and then says, “You are. Pretty, I mean.”
It is your turn to blush furiously. You have to look away if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him. 
“Are you gonna order or not?” 
You both turn to look at the person standing behind Charles, clearly annoyed for having to wait too long. He apologizes before turning back to you. 
“I’m gonna,” He points to the table where his friends are, and you nod, disappointed for being interrupted. 
It’s a little awkward because he stands there for a whole minute just looking at you before waving goodbye and walking away. 
The customer clears his throat and you’re dragged back to the present one more time. 
You hear Alex and Lewis laughing behind you. 
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“Hey, we’re going to the club tonight.” Kika says as you clock out. 
“Who is we?” You ask, grabbing your purse and the iced latte you made for the ride home. 
“Pierre and a couple of his friends,” She takes a sip of her own matcha latte and sits on the counter. “You, Lily, Alex.” Kika pokes Alex’s ribs, who’s cleaning the counter next to her.
You chew on your bottom lip, the question is hanging from your tongue but you’re not able to voice it out. Kika must see the struggle on your face. 
“Charles is coming too.” She has a knowing look on her face, but doesn’t make fun of you or ask what is going on with his boyfriend’s best friend. “So, are you coming?” She knows you’re going even before you nod your approval. “Someone left this for you.”
Kika hands you a napkin with a number written on it, a “Charles x” underneath a phone number. 
Your heart starts hammering in your chest and you waste no time in pulling your phone out of your pocket to save his contact. You hesitate whether to message him or not when, suddenly, your screen lights up with a new message. 
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If you can’t stop smiling on the way home from the coffee shop and while you get ready for a night out, nobody (besides Kika) needs to know. 
On the way to the club you think about every little moment and decision that has led you here, to this uber with your friends ready to spend a good night with new friends, and a pretty guy who’s clearly very interested in you. If someone would’ve told you two years ago that this was going to be your life, you would’ve laughed. 
You feel nervous, getting out of the car and walking into one of your favorite clubs in the city. 
The first thing you notice is the mass of people dancing along to the loud music. You think you’re gonna make your way to the bar as you always do the minute you walk inside but, instead, Kika guides you to where all the VIP booths are, near the back of the club and the DJ.
“Baby!” Pierre shouts over the music, drink in one hand. “And baby’s friends!”
“Oh my God, I think he’s already drunk.” Kika groans, making her way to her boyfriend and kissing his cheek before whispering something in his ear that makes Pierre blush. Okay, gross. 
There are a lot of people in the booth. You recognize some of Charles’ friends and a few other people you’ve never seen before. Everyone’s talking with everyone and you’re wondering what to do when someone places a hand on your back. 
“I was waiting for you.” Charles whispers with a low voice, and you feel weak in the knees immediately. 
You turn around to face him and are blinded by his bright dimpled-smile. 
“Hi.” You say, looking into those two green orbs you’ve missed. Just a little. “All my friends dumped me,” Looking behind Charles’ shoulder, you see Lily and Alex making out in the middle of the dancefloor, while Kika is sitting next to her boyfriend and talking with some of his friends. “so you’re stuck with me for the whole night.”
“Ugh,” Charles says, bringing his hand to his heart and pretending to be affected. “that’s horrible. Stuck with a pretty girl all night? I’ll just have to deal with it.” 
You lean your shoulder into Charles’ side playfully and he moves a little closer, his hand still on your back. Apparently, blushing comes like a second nature to you ever since you met Charles.
“Wanna grab a drink?” 
He doesn’t need to ask twice. 
Charles guides you to the bar, keeping you close with his hand that has dropped from your back to your waist. His closeness is intoxicating and you can’t help but lean closer. Charles seems comfortable with the proximity, so you stay glued to his side as you walk to the bar, where you’re forced to pull away.
He asks the bartender for your drinks — after asking, very politely, what you’d like to drink — and leans against the counter with you by his side. 
You tilt your head and observe him for a little while, Charles too busy grabbing your drinks to notice the attention. It is only when he turns to hand you the glass that he notices your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up immediately but his eye contact doesn’t waver. He just stands there with two drinks and people bumping into him, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.
You shake your head, grabbing your drink. “Thank you.” 
You don’t really know how much time you spend at the bar chatting with Charles, but you don’t want it to end. Charles tells you about his life back in Monaco, you learn that he came very close to the racing world before his father passed away and he decided to quit — not his younger brother though, who is currently racing in Formula 1 — and dedicate his life to his other passion: architecture. And in return you tell Charles more about your decision to travel the world and not going to college, he shares some of your opinions and you’re surprised how easily you’re able to share things about your life with him. 
“I don’t know where life would take me,” You take a sip of your second drink, resting your elbows on the counter. “but I’m happy where I am right now.”
“You should think about visiting Monaco, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it.” Charles has a strange glint in his eyes that forces you to look away. 
“Hey, lovebirds!” A guy throws his arms around yours and Charles’ shoulder. You recognize him as one of his beach friends. 
“Dani.” Charles groans, but relaxes against his friend’s chest. “Where are Max and Lando?”
“With the DJ,” You both turn to look at the DJ booth, and right there next to him is Lando and, to his other side, the blonde guy you remember as Max. Both of them look very drunk. “Oscar wants to take them home but I said that as long as neither of them throws up, we’re good.” 
Dani asks for a couple of drinks and makes small talk. He’s absolutely hilarious and doesn’t stop making fun of Charles. 
“He kept asking us if we’d seen you. Every. Single. Day.” Charles pushes him away but that doesn’t stop him. “And sent like a thousand selfies pouting and trying to bribe us to look for you around the city.”
“Daniel!” Charles exclaims, mortified. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head forward. 
Dani just laughs and, once his drinks are ready, walks away. Still making fun of his friend. 
“It’s cute.” You confess, feeling brave enough to lift his chin up with your hand. “I’m glad you were trying to find me, even though I thought you had forgotten about me.”
“How could I?” He smiles, his dimples on full display. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath, I’m gonna confess that the only thing on my mind while I was away was our interaction at the beach.” His cheeks are blushed as he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “And how sorry I was for not asking for your number.”
You’re one second away from falling to the floor and melting onto it. 
Charles is definitely not helping with the racing of your heart and the need to be a normal and a functional person. 
“I’m sorry,” Charles’ voice is gentle.
“Don’t be,” You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze softly before letting go. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath,” You repeat his exact same words which makes him laugh, his whole face lighting up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Well, until I was beginning to get angry at myself for thinking about it even after you stood me up.”
Charles groans, putting his face in his hands. 
“I’ve a lot to make up for.”
He looks back up and you make eye contact until Charles glances down at your lips, then back up at your eyes. And the room suddenly feels too crowded and too hot. 
“You’ll have plenty of time for that.”
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𓇼 — WAVE OF YOU, TAGLIST: @lovrsm @itsjustkhaos @evie-119 @sadbeautifuleva @c4tc0re @sargeantdumbass @brune77e @arian-directioner @lavisenri @starsnxva @a1leexxa @therealcap @anniee-mr @kakorrhaphiophobia @madd1115 @toxicdreamer296 @coffeebae0 @tempo-rary-fix @luca-is-a-pengu @charleslover24 @vettelsbees @iienstein @mehrmonga @ferraridepartment @fictional-l0v3r. 𓇼 [cursive means i couldn't tag you]
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Text
Safe Keeping | 6
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."
Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink), enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, baby fever, fluff!, typos, etc.
A/N: i said i'd end this on p5 but i think i'll be ending at p7 HAHHAH lol. originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here
Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @minttea07 @fluffpudel @j3nn-1 @jelsasnowflakes1
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"My lady," followed by high pitched barking made me turn around from where I sat in the garden.
Maester Yannick was walking over to me, with three puppies on his trail. He lifts his robe when he feels one of the critters nip at it. He hisses at them and tells them not to bite. Rose barks and takes it as a challenge.
I chuckle and shush her, raising a finger as I bend down to reinforce the discipline.
Rose looks at me then scurries off.
I straighten up on the bench as Yannick sits beside me. We both then turn to the soldiers in the making, training across the grounds of Brown Wood.
The Hound barks at them when they get their positions wrong.
"He is lovely today," Yannick tells me.
I turn to him and chuckle, but nod nonetheless.
He continues observing my husband, "he's been training long, hasn't he?"
"Mmm. Perhaps a couple hours," I look back at Sandor, "why? Do you think it is bad for his wounds?"
"I think it is bad for you," he looks at me.
I pull my head back, "me?"
The maester stands, "you are wasting precious time. Both of you are in good conditions," he links his hands together, "for the good of your house, it would be wise for you to be more... vigilant about producing heirs."
I feel my face drop and burn.
"As you know, my lady, the herbs I make for you are not cheap. It would be a shame to put them to waste due to a lack of effort."
I clear my throat and turn away from him.
Maester Yannick nods, "which reminds me, I will go and fetch you some tea right now."
I watch him walk away.
Once he was gone, my attention is averted back to Sandor. In truth, now more than ever has his hound persona been more apparent to me. Besides his fierceness, his snarling, his grit, the way he bared his teeth and howled at everyone, I could see his loyalty, his need to do good by the people in his life, his protectiveness, especially when it came to fighting, and his warmth.
I begin to think about Daisy. I turn to my side and watch as the pups begin to wreck the garden with their paws.
I find myself thinking about that night... that night when he said he loved me.
I rub my belly, not liking the way my stomach churned at my string of thoughts.
I watch as Sandor straightens up a boy, who was about to fall flat on his face, with one hand. He shakes his head at the child and says he can't fight if he's fighting himself too.
I imagine him speaking the same way to our son.
It was a horrible mistake. As quickly as I thought of it, I then remember telling him to give me a child by another woman.
I've set him free. He does not belong to me; in truth, he never did.
I quickly stand and wipe my face.
This was no longer leisure, this was torture.
I quickly run inside, retreating to my bedroom. Once I am there, I takes my shoes off, plop on my bed, and stare up at my ceiling. I look at the cobwebs in the distant corners and I wonder why I felt like crying but had no tears to shed. I lie there in silence, wishing nothing but to waste away.
I lift my head up from the sheets and turn to the door when I hear it open. I immediately stand and brush my skirts, "Sandor."
The feel of the cold floor on my bare feet send a shiver down my spine.
Sandor cautiously looks at me, "is everything alright?"
"Mmm?" I raise my brows, "what- why do you ask?"
"You ran inside and left your babes in the garden"
My lips part at his words. My hand instinctively comes to my belly.
"Pups," he raises a hand, "I meant pups. I didn't mean--"
Sandor is cut off by the voice of maester Yannick calling my name as he knocked on my door. Sandor opens the door for him and the old man enters, smiling when he sees the two of us. He is about to hand me the tea but then decides otherwise and puts it on my vanity.
He turns to Sandor, "I am pleased you decided to attend to your wife. Her fertility herbs are slowly being depleted. I was beginning to fear it would be for naught."
I grow frigid.
With that, the maester nods and exits, "please do enjoy each other's company."
The sound of the door closing leaves me red in the face. I lock eyes with Sandor then look away, clearing my throat. I flinch when he calls out my name.
I turn back and rub my arms, "yes... husband?"
"I didn't come here for that," he mutters, raising a hand cautiously.
My chest tightens. Of course not. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off before I could make a sound.
"I came to check if you're alright," he slowly steps forward.
I tense and nod, "I am well."
I feel my heart race when he takes another step towards me.
"Y-you needn't worry about me."
"I always worry about you," he mutters as he walks closer.
My words catch in my throat, "what?"
"Let me help you," he speaks, now only a few steps away from me.
My heart is pounding. I step back slowly, "h-help?"
"In the way only a man can," he lets out a heavy breath.
My calves hit the bed. I stop in my tracks and stand frozen. The Hound is now looking down at me. I am too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything else but stare.
The next thing I know, my gaze is drawn downward as he sits on the bed and peers up at my form.
"If you want a child from me," he whispers, "I'll give you one by no other woman but you." 
I look at him, heart in my mouth, body burning. I scratch my fingers and nod at his words.
Sandor sighs, "I need to hear you say it."
"I-" I shakily speak, "I want a child," I face him, "a child by you... my lord."
His brows knit.
My breath hitches when he touches my waist.
I can hear his heavy breathing as he whispers, "Sandor. Please."
I gulp as his palm rubs slowly across my belly. The action makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. My hand comes atop his. I oblige, "Sandor."
He gently tugs me in between his legs and my breath nearly escapes me. He rests his hands on my hips then pulls me in, sinking his face into my side. My ribs rattle with how quick my pulse was.
Sandor inhales deeply, "gods, you smell good."
I feel my body burn, "i-it's lavender oil."
I squeak when he pulls me down onto his lap. He cages me against him, my back flush against his chest. He sinks his face into my neck and slowly draws in a breath. His arms snake around me as he hotly speaks, "it's you, my pretty squirrel."
I feel his hands slowly lift my skirts up. My hands latch onto his arm that was still around my belly.
"Be calm, my wife, I cleaned up before coming here, in case I had to wipe your tears."
I make a sound as he knocks his nose into my jaw and exposes one of my legs to him. 
"I don't like it when you're upset."
My breath hitches, "I-I'm not upset."
"Good."
Sandor feels the goosebumps on my skin when his hand makes contact with my bare thigh. He shushes me as he rubs and kneads my flesh. I whimper and begin to squirm when his hand hikes up my inner thigh.
His fingers touch my clothed center. He breathes hotly against the pulse of my neck, "I'm going to take this off, mmm?"
I gulp and nod slowly at his words.
I maneuver with him when his hands come under my skirts to rid me of my smallclothes. He doesn't like the space that is created between us and rips me back into him. He ruts his hips into mine to add to his point.
I whine when Sandor's right hand rubs into my heat.
"Fuck," he hisses, "you've worked yourself up over nothing."
I make a louder noise when he prods his fingers into my pulsing entrance. I can feel his fingers slide with ease against my warm folds. I instinctively grip his arm when he sinks into me.
Sandor's other arm, in turn, tightens around me, "you can take it. You've taken more than my fingers, beautiful."
I whimper when he sinks another finger into me and begins to pump in and out. My breathing grows heavier and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he moves into me.
I feel his beard scratch into my neck. I feel his teeth graze lightly into my skin. His fingers languidly move in and out of me, even as I clench my thighs together. He makes no move to part them, and in truth, it doesn't hinder his movements at all.
I feel his tongue dart out on my neck, "I want to taste you."
I slowly lift my head from his shoulder just as he pulls his hand away from my thighs and brings his fingers into his mouth. I feel sobered by his action, taken aback by how filthy it was yet how eagerly he did it.
The next thing I know, he pulls back and lets my body fall in a space between his thighs. He quickly undoes his trousers. After, he pushes me onto my feet, and grips my hips. He rather impatiently rips up my skirts and I feel my thighs shake when he grips my bare flesh.
He pulls me back down on him, and I mewl when I feel his hardened length slip clumsily between my thighs, not yet entering me. I settle on him; the sensation of his clothes on my skin makes my belly roll.
"Fuck," he growls, as my thighs instinctively clamp around him. Sandor is unable to withhold the bucking of his hips.
When he does this, pleasure, crackling like embers, tingle up my body.
"Open up," he hisses, one hand coming between my legs, "I have to be inside you. I have to come inside, have to come inside your weeping cunny."
"Sandor," I whine as I slowly part my legs.
"I know, pretty squirrel. You're so worked up, for me," he breathes against my ear then nips at my lobe, "so fucking eager."
A drawn out whine escapes my lips when he sheathes himself into me.
He wastes no time in moving. I end up squeaking as he braces me against him and firmly thrusts upward into me.
My cries grow louder as his arms tighten beneath my breasts. I feel his hand knead one breast, but it doesn't last very long.
I am throttled onto my chest and pressed down on the sheets. Sandor lifted me up like I was nothing and adjusted me on the edge of the bed.
I'm barely on my tiptoes, as most of my weight was shifted on my spine from of how my husband was hoisting me up to cater to himself.
His movements quickly pick up the pace, and our position becomes reminiscent of the time he had me like this once before, only this time, his one hand was rubbing my scarred hip and he was much more vocal.
"Look at you, all bent over and mine," he groans.
I nails dig into the sheets.
"I'm gonna fill you up. You're going to be so fucking full of me."
I squeal into the sheets. The idea drives me wild. I plead into the bed but I don't think he hears it.
Just as I felt something begin to build in me, he slows.
I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them as Sandor drops one of my hips. I squeak when I feel him grab my shoulder and slowly turn me on my back.
My jaw drops; I breathe heavily through my mouth. Sandor looks down on me as his hands grip my sides. He pushes me upward and presses my legs by my ribs
He slowly thrusts into me, hands working their way across my body. He rubs my thighs, my belly, my breasts. His brows furrow, "fuck. So fucking soft and warm."
He massages my breasts then works his way up to my shoulders. His one hand rubs my neck before clutching my jaw. His other hand slides back down my hips. I whine when his thumb rubs circles around my sensitive nub. It makes my toes curl.
He sighs, "so fucking beautiful."
I whimper when his other thumb swipes my lips. I find myself licking at it. It makes him groan and buck into me faster.
I push my head back and arch my spine, "fuck- Sandor."
Both his hands land on my hips. He digs his nails into my flesh and begins to move deeper. Eventually, he sinks one hand down by the side of my head for support. My hands latch onto his hips.
"Come for me, pretty girl," he groans, "I'm not gonna last much longer."
I tug at his clothes.
"Be a good girl and come all over my cock, mmm. I want to feel you tighten around me-- get all messy and wet and loud and," he gives deliberate thrusts, "so fucking beautiful."
I whine, "Sandor, I want- I want to-"
I begin to tighten and shake against him. My legs wrap around him and my hands cling onto him for dear life. I find it futile to conceal my sounds, as I cannot find the strength to shut my mouth as I ride the feeling of bliss.
With a loud cuss, Sandor rams into me as deeply as he can. His movements are rough and slow. Both of his hands secured on my waist as he spills his seed into me.
I can feel him throb and can feel myself dripping with warmth.
Sandor takes his time, really drawing out the feeling before slowly coming to a halt. He lets out a final moan when he does stop then takes a deep breath.
I look at him as he closes his eyes and straightens up. My body burns when he looks down at me through hooded eyes and rubs my body again. He enjoys rubbing my breasts the most.
My hands come to his arms, and that seems to stop him.
I am about to tell him not to stop, but he speaks before I can, "wrap your legs round me."
In truth, I didn't have to do anything as he wraps my legs around himself and picks me up in his arms. I hook my feet around each other and am careful not to touch his blistered back as my hands go to his shoulders.
Sandor crawls up the bed with me clinging onto him; I feel the strength in his muscles as he moves. He sets me down on the pillows. He arranges one under my head and brings one beside me.
He looks at me for a moment then whispers, "I'm going to pull away now."
He waits for me to respond before doing anything.
In truth, the thought of him pulling away from me makes my body ache with sadness, but I slowly nod anyway.
I close my eyes as Sandor gently draws away from me. My emotions immediately overcome me in my vulnerable state. I rub my eyes when I feel tears build behind my lids. Sandor fixes my skirt and gathers my legs together. I feel him take the pillow beside me and stuff if bellow my bum.
"This will help keep my spend from dripping out."
His explanation makes my body burn.
I feel Sandor shuffle beside the bed and I hear him fixing his clothing.
I clench my jaw, dreading what I knew exactly was to come next.
I open my eyes when he calls my name. I look at him pathetically, noticing how his skin glowed with sweat, the last evidence that he was ever in me beyond his untucked shirt.
He reaches out to me and I really don't want to take his hand knowing he'll leave me after, so I don't.
I have no idea why he still grabs my hand. The action feels like a betrayal. He rubs my knuckles before kissing them. I chew my lip, feeling wronged over the fact he has never kissed my lips and probably never will.
"I will be leaving now," he mutters.
His words gut me, as always. 
I rip my hand out of his and turn away from him, "very well."
Sandor knits his brows at the sharp withdrawal. He was gentle was he not? Still, he's being turned away.
His mouth goes dry. He slowly steps back, "I..."
I turn my body away from him. I draw in a deep breath and try to make my voice as even as possible, "thank you, Sandor."
Sandor flinches. He steps back some more, "I-I'll bring your dogs here for company."
I chuckle dryly. Company. My voice breaks, "I'm tired."
Sandor's mouth twitches. He backs all the way up to the door, "I'll let you rest then."
I cover my face with my arm and hum in agreement, not trusting myself to speak anymore.
The moment I hear the click of the door, I begin to sob. I whine as his words replay in my head. How could he tell me such things, call me beautiful and say he wants me, then leave me right after? How could he touch me like that then want nothing to do with me?
I pull the pillow from underneath my head and wail into it.
Sandor, who couldn't find it in himself to step away from the door, decides not to walk back in when he hears the crying. His belly curdles with self-loathing. He feels like he's going to choke because of how hurt the noise sounded, nevermind how lovely it was seconds ago; it meant for nothing.
He walks away trying to figure out where he went wrong. He relives every touch, every sound in his memory. His eyes water when he comes to the dreadful realization it must have been horrible being with him. He forced his wretched looks onto an unwilling witness.
He gulps as he sniffles and wipes his face in frustration. He feels like walking into the forest, never to be seen again, but then he steps out to the garden and hears small barking sounds. He looks at the three pups, playing with the boys, who should have been training, and feels his heart twist.
He finds himself imagining what the scene would've been like if Daisy was here... if his pretty squirrel-- he shuts the thought away.
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I knock on Sandor's office door and enter when he tells me to come in.
He looks up, does a double take, then immediately stops doing whatever it was he was doing. He clears his throat, "Lady Clegane."
His words pierce through me. He's never called me that before. I close the door and walk towards him, "Lord husband. Good morrow to you. Where is Andrew?"
His shoulders tense, "he... should be here any minute."
I nod as I halt in front of his desk, "he has gotten good enough at reading and balancing coin, I hope?"
Sandor sighs, "yes."
I notice the crumbs on his beard, then I notice a plate on his desk. He must have broken fast here. I fidget with my fingers and wipe my chin, hoping he would get the message. He doesn't. I decide not to note on it and simply get to the point, "maester Yannick said your wounds have dried up, and that if you liked, you could go on your rounds again."
Sandor nods and straightens in his chair, "I think I'll start once I'm confident in the bloke balancing our coin."
I nod slowly and link my hands together, "alright," I shift in my spot and turn to the door.
I look back at him and feel my body burn under his scrutiny. I offer a smile, "that is all I wanted to say," I rub my hands together, "-wanted to check on you."
I gasp when he jumps out of his chair.
I clutch my chest and stare at him. He had an arm raised and reached out to me. It dawns on me he said something but it was too quick for me to catch.
I release a breath, "pardon?"
Sandor lowers his hand, rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat, "I... I asked how you're doing."
It takes me a few moments to realize the meaning of his words. I shift and my spot and rub my chest. I feel my neck burn when he further clarifies his question.
"Yesterday, when we... bedded, I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I draw out a deep breath and smile softly, "you were... gentle with your touches."
Sandor is unsatisfied.
I aimlessly look around, "and, anyway, I am not as fragile as you think."
He purses his lips and tilts his head. He takes a moment before speaking, and when he does, he does so hesitantly, "I was afraid I made my pretty wife weep again."
I instinctively let out a laugh, but it was clearly unamused and pained. I feel like I was being scorched alive when I look at him looking at me. I shake my hands, suddenly in denial, "no, I was quite satisfied!"
Sandor's eyes widen a fraction.
Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What am I saying?
He blinks twice and wipes his mouth. Finally his crumbs fall off. He mutters, "that's... good."
I release my final chuckle. He turns to his desk, fixes some things, then looks back to me. He looks like he means to smile but he doesn't, "I'm glad."
He slowly sits down afterwards.
I feel like I'm being weighed down by anchor.
That was it. That was the conversation.
Sandor is no longer looking at me. He shuffles the paper into a file and I slowly begin to feel the air around us thicken.
He sets the parchment down and darts his eyes to me. He purses his lips again and I catch the way his face twitches. He opens his mouth and slowly points to the door, "if that's all... I would not keep you."
I don't know why I laugh again, but I do. It's not even funny. I feel like being stabbed would have been better, more amusing at this point. I curtsy at him and shuffle backwards, "of course. I do not mean to keep you either."
Sandor feels sick. He clenches his fists and turns to his desk. He breathes in deeply, trying not to rile himself up any more than he already was. Gods knew he would use all his strength to keep this room locked.
I walk towards the door and turn the knob. I feel a wave of tears threatening to spill, and I slap my mouth when a squeak leaves me.
Sandor is immediately alerted. He looks up and pushes himself on the edge of the seat, "what?"
I turn to the ground and wipe my face. I take two seconds for myself then turn to him. I cover up with a chuckle, "I said... y-your beard."
Sandor immediately rubs his beard.
I chuckle louder, trying to convince myself that I actually found it funny, "you have crumbs on your beard."
Sandor looks at me like I grew another head.
I laugh enough that I actually start laughing at myself.
When I stop, the silence is loud.
Sandor clears his throat and cautiously asks, "you find that funny?"
My stomach drops when I see the red tinge of his ears. I walk up to his side and shake my head, "wait, no- I- I didn't mean it like that."
Sandor shakes his head and offers me a quick and small smile, "it's fine. I just wasn't expecting that from you," he looks back to his desk, "anyway, I'm used to it."
I feel like my entrails were being grinded.
A line forms in his brows, "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before."
"I wasn't laughing at you!" I whimper under my breath. The air in my lungs begin to catch in my throat as I exhale, "I was just- I ju-"
Sandor turns to me, face slipping when he catches my teary eyes.
He stands and takes my shoulders.
I blink my tears away and smile in an attempt to calm myself. I am glad I do not shed a tear. I speak through a loud breath, "I'm just nervous when I'm around you!"
Sandor immediately releases me. He sighs through his nostrils, "scared, you mean."
I shake my head and take his shoulders, "nervous."
The Hound seizes up like there was a knife to his neck. I take a moment to look at him and pull back.
I cannot deny it hurt when he immediately steps away from me.
I really should have left at this point, but my mouth had a mind of its own. I furrow my brows and give him an earnest look, "I can trim your beard for you."
He steps back one last time, then looks at me as if I now had three heads.
I realize my mistake, "if-if you want me to. I'm not saying you should, I'm just offering to-"
"You want to do that for me?"
I turn to stone. I look around nervously, "mmm... o-only if you'd have it... ... my lord."
Sandor's face twitches. He sighs and slumps forward. He furrows his brows, "you'd be staring at my face the whole time."
I watch him as he rummages through his things.
My stomach rolls again and I step back, "ah... I see."
Sandor stops to look at me.
"If you do not feel comfortable, I will not..."
My words run dry when he pulls out shears. I watch him as he straightens up. He grips the tool in his hand, "it's you I'm worried about."
I look up at him, not knowing what to say.
"I don't mean to scare yo-"
"I'm not scared of you," I mutter.
Sandor stares at me. After a moment, he slowly takes my hand and hands me the shears, "maybe you should be."
My chest pounds at fleeting touch.
I cut his beard in the garden, as I didn't want to make a mess in his office.
He sits on the bench there.
The breeze blows at both our hair.
"You needn't touch me so gently, girl," he says, "it will take a lot of you to hurt me."
I do not change the manner in which I touch his cheek. I can feel Sandor looking at me, but I do not avert my attention away from his beard, "just because you do not hurt easily doesn't mean I cannot be gentle with you, Hound."
The Hound reaches out to my thighs when my foot rolls on a rock. I barely even fidget, but, still, he holds me in place to keep me from a potential fall. He does not release me. I gulp when I feel his thumb rub my skirt.
"You can hurt me if you like," he says.
I pull back and furrow my brows, "would you like that?"
He grinds his lower lip in his teeth. He debates for a moment and I decide to snip his mustache. I shush him when he tries to speak. He purses his lips tightly.
A moment passes with just the sound of cutting.
"I wouldn't want to cut your lips off," I shift in front of him, still ever so aware of his touch of my thighs, "you still need them to kiss."
I pull away to check if his mustache was straight. I notice his expression, dumbfounded, and continue snipping. I sigh, "that was a jest."
I pull away and again and move to the other side. Sandor still keeps his hands on me. He looks at me as I gently move his head.
I add, "I'm quite funny actually."
He chuckles lowly.
It makes my heart flutter.
He smiles, "oh, I don't doubt it, little girl."
I flatten my lips into a line, unsure if he was serious or not. I trim the hair by his jaw.
"You must like kissing then."
I freeze in my spot. I stop what I was doing, then continue, "what do you mean?"
He pulls his hands away. I watch him link them together and rest them on his lap. He shrugs, "you thought of kissing."
"Do you like kissing?"
I place a hand on my hip. He turns to me and shrugs again, "s'fine."
I furrow my brows and mimic his shrug, "well, you've never kissed me, so I wouldn't really know, would I?"
"You've never kissed a man before?"
"No," I impatiently respond, "I've kissed you, but you did not kiss me back," I take a few last cuts off his beard, "on our wedding day, remember?"
I see Sandor's look of disbelief when I finish and brush him off. Specks of hair fly off with the wind.
"You never kissed a little lord in secret as a little girl?"
"Only a big lord," I make a face, "as according to you I still am a little girl."
He stands from where he sat and peers down at me.
I purse my lips and cross my arms. I shrug, "point taken."
His brown eyes glimmer with confusion. I find myself raising my brows. Just as he is about to speak-
"MILORD, MILADY!"
We turn to the three young men walking over to us. I recognize them as Sandor's training apprentices. They push each other as I turn and smile at them.
"Good morn', lady!" Harry says, bowing exaggeratedly at me, "your dress is very rambunctious."
I furrow my brows at his words and find myself chuckling, "uhhh, thank you?"
Sandor raises his brows and curls his lips.
Daniel slaps Harry behind the head, "YOU MUG, D'YA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, EVEN?"
Harry hisses and shoves Daniel, "DON'T HIT ME!"
Daniel gets shoved again when he incidentally elbows Richard, "OI, WATCH IT!"
The boys begin to quarrel. 
I step back before they can accidentally hit me, in turn, knocking my back into Sandor's.
"Enough!" the Hound barks, making the three brothers, or at least they acted like that, stop and turn to him.
My eyes widen at the sound of the Hound telling the boys off. I watch each of them tense as their Lord Clegane goes on a whole speech about biting off more than they can chew, and that, "if you lot want to act all tough around me, know I'll knock all three of your egg-heads with my hands tied."
I turn to the Hound, "Sandor."
He lets out a deep breath then eyes the three before him, "fuck off."
The boys immediately scram.
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I bend over and grip my hips as I catch my breath. Lucy laughs at me as she beckons the puppies over with a stick. They come running over then she throws the stick for them to chase.
I huff, "these pups will be the death of me."
Lucy snorts, "and here I thought you wanted children."
I glare at her as the three small dark furred creatures begin to chase her around the garden as she runs. I call out in offence, "I do!"
Lucy runs over to me, "well, don't you know babes are far worse that this!" 
She giggles when she grabs my shoulders and uses me as a shield for the dogs. Though I was still winded, I laugh with her as the puppies prance around me. I grab Lucy's arm and begin to wrangle with her, "at least my babes will learn to speak. These pups know no sense!"
Lucy pushes me forward, encouraging me, "no, no, go on, s'your time to run, milady!"
I whine, "I really can't, Lucy."
"Oh, come on, lovie, you used to be full of energy! You're actin' as old as maester Yannick."
I hold back a laugh and shoot Lucy a look.
She shoots one back, "what? Did I lie?"
"Girls."
Lucy and I stop and turn to whom spoke. Sandor looks at us the way he always did, scrutinizing and serious.
I straighten up and nod in regard, "my lord."
Sandor sighs and looks away with annoyance. Wind blows his hair, adding effect to his expression. He looks down when the puppies begin to run towards him. They stand on their hind legs, pant, and bark. I swear I saw his exterior break into fondness.
But then he looks at me and it's all gone, "this came for you." He holds out a letter to me between his fingers, "I don't recognize the house sigil."
I walk up to him, smoothening my skirt out, then take the letter. I look at the wax seal for only a second then open the letter.
Sandor watches me raise my brows. He chuckles.
Lucy watches Sandor smile softly before purposefully frowning.
I look up at my husband, "it's from house Alistair."
Sandor's face scrunches up, "never heard of it."
I huff and delay my response to stop the puppies from chewing at the Hound's trousers. Sandor watches as I do this and gently shakes the puppies away. He takes my arm, preventing me from bending down, "I don't mind. They're just pups."
I give him a look, "if I don't stop them now when they're tiny, nothing will stop them when they're big."
Sandor watches as I sternly tell off the puppies and shoo them away. He chuckles at it, but then freezes when Lucy chuckles as well. The two make eye contact. Sandor doesn't have time to react.
"Cedric."
He turns to me, face contorting, "what?"
The puppies run off and Lucy runs along with them. I continue to explain, "Cedric is from House Alistair. You know, the lord that gave us a place to stay. You called him pretty bo-"
"I remember the fucker," he snaps.
I tense.
The Hound's nostrils flare, "what does he want?"
Suddenly, the letter in my hand feels heavy. I shrug, "he's invited us to his nameday celebration."
Sandor scoffs, "you mean he's invited you."
I release a frustrated huff when he begins to walk away. I follow after him and open the letter. I clear my throat and read aloud, "Fair greetings to Brown Wood, the home of House Clegane. May this letter find you in good spirits and health."
Sandor rolls his eyes as he walks back inside. He makes no haste, but I do, in order to keep up with him. I continue, "Seven days from now, I, Cedric Alistair, will be celebrating my--"
"I don't fucking care, little girl," he stops in his tracks and turns to me.
I nearly collide with him, but I gladly don't. I purse my lips and continue anyway, skipping to the part that holds my point, "if the Lord and Lady Clegane be so courteous in taking time out of their day to attend my feast, I would gladly-"
"Do you want to go, squirrel?"
I look up at him, blinking at the sight of his stern expression. I have to say, the omission of the word pretty for his petname made it feel... wrong. I clutch the letter by my belly, "he hosted us, me, Lucy... Daisy, even you, when we had nowhere to go. I think it only proper to attend his nameday to show appreciation and respect."
Sandor's eye twitches. He looks away and sighs.
I chew my lower lip, "he was kind to us, Sandor. I only mean to-"
"Fine," he cuts me off, "but if he touches you," he walks off, "I'm going to kill him."
His statement make my stomach churn. I cannot for the life of me understand what the intent of his words are. I chase after him again, "what if he asks me to dance with him?"
Sandor chuckles dryly, "a fine reason to chop him up."
He stops when I grab his arm. He looks at my hand on his bicep then gives me a look as I say, "you cannot kill him."
Sandor places his hand atop mine, "then don't fucking dance with him."
He squeezes my hand but it is not rough at all. It's gentle and extremely warm. He doesn't even try to pry my grip off, in fact, it's like he was tightening it on hm. My lips part and my body begins to burn.
I then realize when he was close enough for me to feel his breathing that he had been leaning in. I catch the way his eyes dart down to my mouth. I find myself slowly pressing my lips together.
I close my eyes when Sandor comes close to my cheek. I swear I felt my heart leap into my mouth when he pressed his face against mine.
He draws in a deep breath then sighs, "have you ever seen a hound share?"
The silence between us is deafening.
"Hmm?" he hums.
I open my mouth but nothing but mindless sounds leave me.
"I don't even think your pups do that."
My breath catches in my throat when he I feel his beard and his lips press gently against the crook of my neck.
Then the next moment, he releases me and pulls away like nothing happened.
We stare at each other for the longest second of my life. I feel like I'm on fire. What's worse is that I don't think he realizes just how affected I am, or actually... maybe it was good he couldn't tell I was dying inside.
"Still," he nods, "a dog is a dog and I will do as my master commands."
I feel light headed when he walks away.
I clutch my belly and walk to the nearest surface for support. I rub my neck, wondering if that really just happened.
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xianyoon · 6 months
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     WHEN THE SPRING LIGHT HITS THE FIELD
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. ݁₊🍃. ݁⊹ 🎐 ⊹ . ݁🌤️ ݁ . ⊹🫧 ₊ ݁. ݁ .🍃. ⊹🫧*ੈ⊹ . ݁ ˚👒. ⊹🌿
WELCOME TO YING'S SPRING EVENT !
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🎐 this event is a celebration of springtime ! a celebration of fresh flowers that sprout up from the ground , of farewells to flakes of snow, of the emergence of freshness and sunshine and crisp air – soak in all that springtime loveliness, darling, and i hope you happily get to participate in all the festivities ! join the gathering in the field , and you'll see that there's a multitude of mini events for you to join . 🍃
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── event one : ꒰ flower crown crafting ! ꒱
a prompt collaboration event ! choose any of the prompts ( no min. nor max. ) to create for – all types of creations allowed ! this is multifandom and open to everyone – it can be oc works , selfship works , x reader works, or any kind ( fics, art, edits & music welcome ! ) all you have to do is to reblog this post and let me know which prompts you'll be taking ! ( you can use prompts people have already used too <3 )
✿ amaryllis –  spring flower crown making with them !
✿ begonia – asking them to be your partner/them asking you for a spring dance
✿ camellia – baking together for a spring picnic
✿ daisy – watching the evening sunset together amongst the wildflowers
✿ epiphyllum – shared kisses behind the willow tree
✿ freesia – going on a strawberry picking outing 
✿ gardenia – tending to the spring flowers together
✿ hamamelis – going on a spring cafe date 
✿ iris – winding down on a spring evening together
✿ jasmine – hosting a spring garden tea party 
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── event two : ꒰ mix 'n match mocktails ! ꒱
this one's only open to my mutuals ! i'll be doing matchups for you all – matching you up with a character . . . look below to see the rules and instructions ! for each matchup, i'll add a mini moodboard as well as a few headcanons ♡ i have 20 open slots for this !
send me an ask ! here's the list of things you need to include :
send me a 🌷 emoji to let me know you're entering this part of the event !
send me a brief introduction about yourself !
send me some characters you would not like to be matched with !
choose whether you'd like a platonic or romantic matchup !
and send me your favourite colour ♡♡
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── event three : ꒰ bouquet making ! ꒱
i'm opening requests !!! !!! ! ! this segment is open to everyone ♡ there will be 15 slots opened for this , so it'll be based off first-come-first-serve ! do look below to see the rules and instructions for the little fancy florist shop you're entering ! ♡
send me an ask ! here's the list of things you need to include :
send me a 💐 emoji to let me know you're entering this part of the event !
choose your ribbon : white ( fluff ) or brown ( comfort ) !
choose your bouquet wrap : paper ( romantic ) or plastic ( platonic ) !
choose your flowers ! select one prompt from the flower list from event #1 and send me up to three characters from genshin, please <3
i do not accept requests that are just " 💐 + white ribbon + paper + character a " , please be nice when requesting ! i have every right to deny your request.
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noneorother · 10 months
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It couldn't be a masquerade ball because it was an unmasked ball
The S2E5 ball symbolism seemed very prominent to me when I watched Season 2 even for the first time, but I saw @meatballlady ask this wonderful question & Neil's answer and thought : hey why not share my thoughts on the clothing at the ball as well.
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If you're reading this you probably know all about how coat lapels are an important character signifier both seasons of GO. If not, TLDR; jacket lapels align with a character's intentions, and their alignment with a faction is determined by their jacket colour (light goes up or dark goes down).
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So why do I say that this was an "unmasked" ball? Because if you follow the lapel theory, all the important participants who seem neutral in real life gain allegiances in their costumes when they enter the bookshop. Let's break it down.
Crowley & Aziraphale
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If you aren't just making everyone fancy, but actually trying to reveal intentions during this ball, then it would make sense that Aziraphale and Crowley don't change outfits : they've been wearing their hearts on their sleeves since season 1. Maggie
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In everyday life, Maggie purposely wears tops without lapels. Everything is round or crew-neck, and she never wears black. In the ball reveal, Maggie wears black for the first time, and has big pointing down lapels on her navy satin shirt, indicating alignment with Hell in both colour and intention. All of her cutesy bows and hearts and gold jewelry are gone. She wears sparkly silver only, and a prominent wristwatch (like Crowley). However, her pinkie ring is still present. (go read @indigovigilance's post about pinkie rings, it's great).
Nina
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Nina is all over the place in real life. Colours clash and she wears black and earth tones often. She also never wears jackets with lapels. When we get to the ball however, she suddenly has a golden brocade jacket with teal & crimson shoulders, and golden hair clasps. She becomes exactly what Maggie is attempting to project in real life, but her lapels are pointing out and up, so alignment with heaven in both colour and intention. No pinkie ring on Nina in the series. Under the jacket she wears green and crimson. A confused pairing as I've ever seen on the show. Who knows what that's about*. Jimbriel
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In normal life, Jim is ultra-neutral with lapels pointing out (neither up nor down) on a brown coat. (Underneath is a whole different ball game for another post.) Jimbriel gets a hilariously Liberace-fied version of the Aziraphale outfit : bowtie, poweder blue and labels pointing down and also to the side, fluffy white and details like Michael and Uriel. He's HELPING AZIRAPHALE WITH THE PLAN, wink wink nudge nudge. You go Jim. Mutt
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Mutt the magic shop owner also has a pinkie ring in real life, as does his spouse, and keeps it for the ball. He gains impressive gold details on his lapel-less tunic, and the colour shifts from base of black to a base of navy, with red and white flowers instead of orange and teal swoops. His sleeves widen, becoming almost an angelic robe-like tunic, making him kind of a mysterious mashup of symbols. Arnold
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Arnold of Arnold's music shop fame is wearing black with rainbow tie and suspenders before the ball, without much jewelry save a pinkie ring. Inside the ball, he keeps the black, but now has crimson and teal accents instead of rainbow, and lapels that are very high up, but that point out to the side, making him more neutral/Mutt the magician aligned, even if he's wearing black. Justine
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Justine wears Hellish green and black in real life on her daisy patterned dress, no lapels here. She has no pinkie ring either, but once inside the ball, all the green melts away and she's allllll black flowered lace. She also has no lapels here, making her also more aligned with Mutt & Arnold than anything, but just as mysterious. Mrs Sandwich
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Mrs Sandwich seems easier to judge. Black and gold no lapels in real life, alllll sparkly black and big downturned lapels for the ball. No pinkie ring on her in either outfit, but a prominent wristwatch. This makes total sense to me. Even if she might not be aligned with hell directly, she runs a brothel and profits off of sex workers so probably a pretty bad lady if we're weighing the odds from a biblical perspective. In other moments she also seems pretty fond of Crowley, and pretty unhappy with Nina (see above). Mr&Mrs Cheng
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Mr & Mrs Cheng are VERY interesting to me. While Cheng wears all black in real life, and we never see her partner, she is transformed in the ball into the only character (besides Nina in solid green) who wears a green pattern. She has become a plant/garden (specifically a Monsterra, like in Corwley's box), and her husband is the pollinating golden butterfly, (with neutral lapels on a black background). Neither of them wear pinkie rings, but Mrs Cheng keeps her distinctive teal earrings, and is now sporting red lipstick, making her and her husband most associated with Nina. Nina also trusts Cheng enough to mind her coffee shop whilst talking to Crowley across the street in the last dregs of E6. As an aside, they also seem to *sort of* have a pre-teen girl child at this ball. We see her briefly in the evacuation but very hidden between other characters, and never in the ball proper. Mr Brown
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Do we need to go through Mr Brown's outfit again? I don't think so. ------------------------------ * I have a feeling it's to do with other things, like Jim's sweater vest, but I'll have to dig into it later.
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livesincerely · 5 months
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”Hi,” a voice says, much closer than he expects. Davey turns to find a woman at his elbow—pretty, with long, tawny hair and big brown eyes—and her smile is sweet and a little shy. “I’m Julia.”
”Uh, hi,” Davey replies, a little confused.
His first thought is that she needs help flagging down the bartender; Davey’s tall and the place is packed, so it’s a reasonable assumption.
Instead, she says, “I don’t usually do this, but, I thought, maybe— And, my friends said I should just be brave and go for it, so, uh, would you be interested in maybe going out sometime? With me?”
”Oh, uh,” Davey rubs a hand over the back of his neck, a little thrown. He scrambles for a good way to turn her down without being mean. “I’m actually not—“
”Dave, did you want any food or just the drink?” Tony asks, tugging at his shirt sleeve to get his attention.
Davey latches onto him like a lifeline.
”I’m here with my boyfriend, Tony,” he lies, throwing an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him in close.
Tony, because he’s the absolute best and Davey’s new favorite person, doesn’t even miss a beat.
“Oh, hey,” he says, curling into Davey’s side. “Sorry, this one’s taken, but believe me, I understand the appeal.”
”Oh my god,” Julia says, looking mortified. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—“
”No biggie,” Tony says easily. “It happens.”
He turns back to Davey, lifts up on his toes, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Come on, babe,” he says, with a ridiculous eyebrow wriggle. “Help me carry our drinks.”
Julia excuses herself with another flustered apology—Davey almost feels bad, but mostly he’s relieved at how relatively painless the whole exchange was.
“I owe you one,” Davey murmurs to Tony as they escape, heading to their table.
Tony snorts. “Oh, trust me, I’m about to get it back, with interest, in sheer entertainment value.”
“What do you mean?” Davey asks.
“Judging by the look on his face, Jack definitely saw what just went down,” Tony says, oddly vindictive. “And he ate the last of my fucking Froot Loops yesterday, so he deserves what’s coming to him.”
“What’s coming to him?” Davey questions, a little too drunk to follow this new thread of the conversation.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says, patting his shoulder. “Here, sit.”
He pushes Davey into the open seat next to Jack—who's watching them with a strange expression, tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.
That tension only grows more pronounced as Tony plops himself into Davey’s lap and makes himself nice and comfortable. Davey just wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, resigned to this becoming A Whole Thing.
”Everyone here owes me money,” Tony announces gleefully to the table at large. “He didn’t even make it five minutes.”
There’s a collective groan.
“Who was it this time?” Specs asks, digging into his pockets for his wallet.
”Girl at the bar,” Tony says, nodding in the right direction. “The one in the green dress.”
The whole group turns to look as one, not even trying to be discreet. Davey resists the urge to sigh.
“She actually seemed normal,” Tony continues, with audible disbelief. Davey wishes he could take offense but, unfortunately, it’s well-warranted. “Cute, too. I wouldn’t’ve chased her off if Dave hadn’t signaled.”
”And where did kissing him factor int’a the equation?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair.
“You kissed Davey?” Albert asks loudly, looking intrigued. He turns to Davey and continues, “You let him kiss you? Don’t’cha know where his mouth has been?”
“Fuck off, Albie, I’m fresh as a fucking daisy—“
“No one should be kissin’ Davey,” Jack insists with a scowl.
“Dave didn’t mind,” Tony says with a smirk. He’s clearly enjoying this way too much. “And anyway, we had’ta sell it.”
“Oh, I bet you fucking did,” Jack mutters under his breath.
“How come Racer gets to mack on Davey?” Albert complains, which tracks—tequila always makes him pouty. “It’s my birthday! If anyone gets to kiss Davey, it should be me.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how that works,” Romeo tells Albert as Jack sputters soundlessly.
“Sure, it does,” Al insists. “Hey, Dave, can I kiss you?”
“No one is kissing Davey!” Jack says. He kind of looks like he’s got a swarm of bees in his mouth, his cheeks flushed and puffed out, his jaw working furiously.
“Uh, not with that fuckin’ attitude,” Albert scoffs, extremely unimpressed. “How ‘bout it, Dave?”
Davey blinks. “Um…”
“No one else is kissing Davey,” Jack orders.
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geminibsworld · 10 months
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Teachers pet
tom blyth!professor
warnings: age gape (18 & 30), smut, daddy!kink, jealousy, p in v, teasing, cussing, ya know the usual.
“you’re disgusting, daisy,” ellie said, grunting rolling her eyes.
“i’m being real, el,” she said, thinking about him.
“he’s so hot, i just want to fuck him all the time. plus he’s a gentleman, ya know one of those sweet in the streets and freak in the sheets type of deals,” daisy giggled, ellie rolled her eyes again.
“no, you’re being gross.” ellie sighed, daisy shook her head. her pony tail shaking, as she shrugged her shoulders.
“whatever, you’re just saying it because you’re into girls,” daisy teases ellie, ellie cracks a smile.
“yeah, maybe.” ellie shrugged, laughing. they walked down the stairs to their next class, drama which is what Mr. blyth taught, which is who daisy thought about, quite often. she’s not even attracted to other boys at their college, she tried but she can’t plus they don’t know what they’re doing and she can’t stand it. they entered the theatre room, she saw Mr. blyth, standing in a black, tight, suit. daisy grinned biting her lip, ellie gave her a look.
“if he sees you gawking at him, he might not be cool with it? i don’t know, he seems like a nice guy,” ellie said, pulling daisy to a seat in the middle as other students entered. the seats filling, and the voices echoing but daisy could only focus on tom.
tom nodded, and laughed talking to some students on stage, before looking out at the crowd searching. their eyes met, she held her breath. his blue eyes poured into her, before he moved on.
“like i said, he’d be a gentleman in person but i bet he’s freaky,” daisy giggled, she stopped smiling as she noticed Anne approaching him. anne put her hands behind her back, standing there fluttering her lashes at him but smiles and nods but doesn’t really respond.
anne smiles quickly, before running away. daisy smirked to herself, catching blyths eye again. her breathed hitched, crossing her legs, flashing him under her sundress. his face showed no emotion, looking away from her. daisy felt rejected, but ignored it. maybe he didn’t see?
the class went by normal, nothing exciting happened as they discussed different acting methods. people going up on stage, preforming a piece and others making notes.
the class ended, as she was leaving blyth stood by the door telling everyone ‘bye’ or ‘have a good day’, right as she was at the door Mr.blyth, said something to her. his british accent, low and hard. she felt nervous, but excited this was her chance. she smiled at ellie before standing off to the side. ellie watching her through the door walking away.
Mr. blyth pulled the doors shut, before turning around sternly. he was angry, she gulped but couldn’t help but feel herself dampen her panties. he marched towards her, his voice low but angry.
“why in the world would you do that? in front of everyone? risking yourself and my job?” he yelled at her, she slightly leaned back. she couldn’t help it but she was wanting him more than ever right now.
“what did i do?” she asked, innocently cocking her head to the side. Mr. blyth gaped at her, she has to be joking. “i didn’t do, anything Mr.blyth.”
tom wanted to scream at her, but he shouldn’t. maybe she didn’t even realize what she was doing, maybe he shouldn’t say anything. but he is, he’s going to say something because she is his student and this is his career. student and teacher affairs are against the rules at Julliard.
“you stared me in the eyes, uncrossing your legs then flashing your panties at me, then crossing your legs again,” Mr. blyth seethed at her, he needs her to understand he can’t but he can’t help but picture it again.
“oh.. oops sorry Mr.blyth,” she said, shrugging her shoulders shaking her head. her long brown hair shaking, he sighed closing his eyes before looking at her again. she was sitting on a chair, her thighs showing more than she should. her head tilted, her eyes wide but a playful grin on her lips. this was a game to her, he thought.
he was pissed at this point, he marched right up to her barely any space between the two. he dropped his voice low, staring intensely at her. for the first time ever, she looked nervous.
daisy was nervous, but so turned on. she crossed her thighs together, trying to relieve some pressure. tom’s eye quickly glanced, he smirked to himself before saying, “two can play at that game, daisy.”
“what do you mean? game?” she asked, quietly looking up at the tall man. his gaze intense, his facial hair shaved but a dark shadow littered his face. his lips pink, and plump. her head was dizzy, before hearing his voice, right on her ear.
“you don’t think i know what game you’re playing? i wasn’t born yesterday, darling. don’t seem so confident now though,” he laughed dryly, a smirk evident in his voice. his fingers gently touched her wrist, tracing softly.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spoke, gulping. chills appeared on her pale skin, he smiled but before pulling his fingers away.
“oh yeah?” he asked, pulling away looking at her, he looked down at her thighs before he torturingly slowly, might she add, his calloused fingers teasing her thighs. she clenched harder, gulping only watching his fingers.
“then why are you letting me touch you?” he asked, his breath fanning her ear. she shivered, gulping again.
“why are you touching me, Mr. blyth?” she asked, eyes wide with innocence.
tom smirked, his fingers coming up to grab the ends of her hair, “you’re a beauty girl, daisy. pretty as a daisy,”
🫧
the next day daisy came in, and she couldn’t help but think about yesterday. how his fingers felt against her skin, she couldn’t help but want more. she’d never felt such attraction towards anyone before, ellie and daisy entered Mr. blyths room, and class started as normal.
“daisy come up on stage,” Mr. blyth said, wearing a large cardigan, tight black tank top, and dress pants. the pants tight on his waist. she loved his body, she loved everything about it. his broad shoulders, toned chest, and his waist. she couldn’t help but notice his shirt see through in the light, she climbed up the stairs.
“daisy, preform this with daniel.” he said, handing her a piece of paper, checking her out quickly. she wore a big hoodie and short tight shorts.
“yes sir,” daisy smiled at him, he gulped. sir, almost sinful the way it rolled off her tongue. he nodded backing up from her, swallowing then smiling quickly.
daisy read over the scene, it was a scene between two lovers who couldn’t deny their feelings for each other, daisy couldn’t help but laugh to herself. of course, well she’ll put on her best show then.
“you ready?” he asked, she nodded quickly. daniel came out the from the back, holding his script as well.
“alright, start.” Mr. blyth said, nodding at the two.
“we’ve spent so much time together, i think about you all the time,” daniel started, stepping towards daisy placing her left hand in his gently.
“me too, but we can’t be together. too many people will be affected,” daisy said, closing her eyes. daniel sighed placing her head in his hands, pulling her close.
“who cares what others think. i want to be with you, you’re the only person i’ve ever wanted to be with, let alone the only person i’ve ever truly been attracted to,” daisy spoke, emotion dripping her. she broke eye contact with daniel before noticing Mr.blyth he stared at her, intensely. she peaked away as daniel started talking before Mr. blyth interrupted him.
“daniel im not convinced you want daisy that much, remember you want her but you can’t have her without risk, here try this,” Mr. blyth approached him taking the script before continuing as the other actor. it felt more real this way, she actually felt chemistry and it felt more real.
“i care, i have a life. i can’t risk everything for you,” Mr. blyth placed both hands on her face, daisys breath caught in her throat. “i want you more than anything, but-“ he didn’t finish as an announcement went off on the speakers.
“all students to the football field for a announcer please, all students. thank you.” the woman spoke, before going silent again. Mr. blyth let go of her, glancing at her again. daisy gulped, her eyes wide. the tension was thick between them as she stepped back from him clearing her throat, she saw ellie turn back and look at her before leaving.
“i guess i better go,” daisy mumbled, Mr.blyth nodded. daisy went to walk away, before tom grabbing her silky dress, her white turtle neck underneath becoming tighter around her neck. he yanked her towards him, she gasped.
his hands at her waist, he cleared his throat, “i know this is extremely inappropriate, i made a big deal about it the other day… but i can’t stop thinking about you,”
daisy looked at him, he stared at her waiting for some type of response. his fingers played with her dress, a little slit on her thigh. his fingers linger on her skin slightly, her breathing sharp and quick.
“please, say something, anything. i know you’ve talked about me, you were so confident the other day, what happened doll?” his hand caressed her skin on her thigh.
“i just- uh- i never expected this to happen,” she mumbled, “i’ve always fantasized about you,” her cheeks pink.
Mr. blyth smirked, before leaning forward his lips right on her ear.
“me too, i’ve thought about your little dresses and bending you over my desk and having my way with you,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning her cold skin. she shivered, and let out a whimper. his hand slowly went to the inside of her thighs, tracing her gently, going up feeling her heat then right back down her thighs. his rough fingers tracing her soft skin.
“why haven’t you?” she asked, a small smirk playing on her lips. she was still nervous but she wants Mr. blyth to want her, and clearly he liked her confidence.
his fingers traced up her thighs to her hip bones, before tracing her panties waistband, his fingers dipping ever so slightly. she looked up at him, before he could respond. she grabbed his shadowed face, pressing a kiss to his plump lips. his hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her up in the air. her hands tugging on his hair, hungrily and moaning into his mouth, as he carries her to his office. he kicks the door open gently before setting daisy down, her lips swollen and her hair knotted.
“call me tom when we’re alone, but when im inside of you baby, call me daddy,” he said, shutting and locking the door pushing her against the desk. she moaned in response as he picks her up by her thighs, laying her back. their mouths connecting, both of them moaning and needing each other. she reached for his belt, unbuckling it throwing it to the ground, and unbuttoning and unzipping his zipper, she slipped her hand in his pants palming his large member.
“f-fuck babygirl,” he moaned into her mouth, she whimpered as his hands found her wet heat playing with her folds before rubbing her clit in circles hard. she moaned out, “you like that baby? feels good don’t it? hm?”
“fuck- daddy, m’need you.” she whimpered in tom’s ear, she waisted no time pulling him out of his underwear. he hissed at her soft hands, his hands slid her underwear to the side before sliding in her slowly.
“oh my god,” daisy breathed, tom’s forehead on hers, his eyes screwed shut.
“you’re so fucking tight, baby. fits me like a glove,” he moaned, starting at a slower pace. daisy cried out, as he started to speed up. the sound of moans and clapping could be heard in the office. his hand fisted her long hair, laying his head on her forehead as he plunged in and out of her. she whimpered as he picked up the pace, he let go of her hair his forehead lay on hers, flipping her legs above her head. he was going at a steady pace as she kept moaning and whimpering.
“fuck daddy, you feel so so good,” she cried out, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. tom threw his head back, picking up the pace even more. he grabbed her throat, right below her jaw carefully not to hurt her and went hard in her.
“yeah? i feel so so good baby? you take my cock so well, you my cock slut baby?” he asked, hissing at she clenched and creamed around his cock. he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling her of her soaking his cock.
“fuck-yes daddy,” she cried out, tom’s fingers rubbing her clit hard.
“no, say it. i want you to say it.” he said, becoming sloppy but fast.
“im your cock slut daddy,” she moaned out, tom was in pure ecstasy. his cock was covered in her juices, and there was more to come.
“yeah? take my cum baby, take my big dick,” he moaned, his head falling back as he slowed down but slammed into her. she screamed at he hit her g spot. he finished inside of her, and he pulls out and laughs slightly.
“we both creamed,” tom joked, daisy laughed slightly before they heard a knock on the door. they look at each other in a panic.
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indouloureux · 2 years
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thinking about steve taking his gf on a picnic date to a meadow in late spring, she’s wearing the prettiest sundress, her feet in his lap while she reads a book and he just can’t help but wanna put his head between her thighs and keep makin her cum on his tongue, hearing her make the prettiest noises in the middle of nature <3
thank you for requesting! 🤍
18+ mdni. cw: oral (f receiving), cum eating, tongue fucking, public sex (uncaught). fem!reader
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the sun is up high and bright, gilded against the blue sky and the thick, white clouds. birds chirp, trees swishing against each other in the warm summer breeze; the leaves are vibrant in its lushness, and the grass tickle your bare thighs.
although, maybe that's just steve's hair.
buried between your legs, your dress curled up above your belly. you're lucky he found a spot away from everyone else, the tranquil desolation quick to appease your malign anxiety. you thought flower picking and book reading was enough to relax you, especially with his company as he twirled vines over one another to make his make-shift crown.
fortunately, he has different plans.
his tongue starts from your fluttering hole up to your gummy button, throbbing above his thick muscle when he wraps his lips around your clit. you mewl softly, dropping the book down to the blanket to tug on his hair, causing him to moan against your dripping heat.
steve groans. "you taste so fucking sweet, baby. so fucking delicious,"
you flush when he slurps loudly at your still gushing arousal, leaking down his tongue, your slick smeared across his chin and blushing cheeks. steve locks his arms around your thighs and presses his hands down when your hips raise, thighs shaking around his head.
"fuck, stevie," his flower crown's gone askew, purple daisies lost behind his tresses. ecstasy rolls down, a shiver travelling with, your heels hooking around the bottom of his spine. steve sticks his tongue out, lapping up at your folds like he's a starved man. "oh my god- fuck- shit, please,"
he chuckles derisively against your cunt, his hands unhooking from you so that they'd push up at your thighs, until they press against your chest. steve smiles between your legs, lips puffy and shiny. you can't help but lean up and kiss him with an open mouth, tongue venturing his mouth to taste yourself.
delectable.
steve takes your hands in his, lacing them together before he dives back down. you moan a bit louder because you can, and because you can't help it. your cunt clenches when he suckles wickedly at your throbbing bud. it takes a choked sob from you, his fingers trapped between your unyielding grip.
your mewls are that of a mellow preeminence of bliss, tears on the corner of your eyes its breathtaking pleasure. steve moves his tongue down to prod its curled tip at your entrance, until he finally pushes it in.
the tickling feeling makes your toes curl, clamping down on his tongue unfettered. he shakes his head, his nose grinding against your blushing clit. you sob louder, can't decide between throwing your head back in the heat of the ecstasy, or watch him go down at you like you're his last meal.
you choose the latter; besides, his darkened eyes are hypnotizing. keep your eyes on me.
steve's hypnotizing. the pretty flowers on the brown meadow on top of his head, his freckles and his charming lust-driven eyes that makes you stir-crazy.
he keeps fucking his tongue into you, speed mimicking the way his cock would dive into your pretty pussy whenever he'd make love to you. he moans at your taste, feeling himself grow painfully harder at every whimper you made. he curls his tongue, pushes it in until he can't breathe anymore.
but thank fuck he'd been a lifeguard for three years, right? (and a co-captain on the swim team. he doesn't want to brag) (he does)
a grandiose moan flitters through your slack jaw. with his incessant tongue-fucking, your orgasm brinks up to the side, twisting the coil painfully at your lower stomach. you're almost yelling with your loud moans, hands into a fist on top of his.
and you cum without warning, lavishing down his tongue. you deplete alabaster liquid on his tongue, his groans matching yours as he lets it fall down his throat. he unclasps his hands from yours, giving one last lick at your folds like he's scooping your cum into his mouth before he stands back on his knees, wiping the back of his mouth.
"shit, baby," he runs his hand through his hair, helping you roll your dress down. "you always make the prettiest noise when you cum, don't you?"
"can't help it, you whore," you press your knee on his side when he leans down to kiss you. "we should do this more often."
"what? fucking outside?" his nose scrunches. "yeah, definitely. let those people here your hot moans, eh?"
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coneyislandbabey · 1 year
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testing his patience. -> g. dunne
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WARNINGS: arguing, profanities, billy being billy
SYNOPSIS: Graham finds his voice defending you after Billy takes his anger out on you during a recording session. word count: 2,294
You awoke to the dipping of the mattress on the other side of you. Stretching, you rolled over and blearily opened your eyes, taking in the sight of your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his shoes. His soft brown curls were unruly over the collar of his flannel shirt, and all you wanted to do was grab his arm and pull that curly head to your chest. 
Graham glanced over his shoulder, and then fully turned to look at you when he realized that you were awake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly. 
You didn’t say anything for a moment, stupid smile on your face as you took in his big blue cherub eyes, waiting for your brain to warm up enough to start functioning. “S’okay, I’m glad I get to see you before you go.” 
Graham’s face split into a grin, and you felt your heart constrict at the sight. “You’re gonna come to rehearsal today, right?”
“Yeah, I’m going to come with Cami and Jules later,” you nodded. 
“Good. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you soon,” Graham said. He leaned over, cupping your cheek with his palm, thumb stroking your soft skin once as he planted a kiss between your brows before exiting the room. 
Once he was gone, you flopped over onto your back and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Graham had been asking you to stop by rehearsals often lately, but you had been hesitant to. Billy had always been temperamental, but usually that was focused on the band and he treated you nicely, or at the very least politely. Yet, ever since Daisy Jones had come onto the scene, he’d been angry with everyone a lot of the time, and sullen the rest. His control issues had gotten worse, he was picking fights with anyone he could for the most innocuous reasons, and frankly, you would rather have some quiet time alone in the house while everyone was at rehearsal to work on your art, or go over to Billy and Camila’s to help with the baby. But Graham seemed more stressed out lately, his nerves fraying more every day that he came home from another day of Billy taking his anger out on him. You hoped that, if you went in to watch, maybe it would cause Billy to reign it in for the day. It’s the least you could try to do for Graham and the rest. 
You got ready for the day quickly, before going over to Camila’s to entertain the baby while she got everything she’d need for the day together. You were hopeful that it would be a good day, that Billy would be in a better mood once his wife and daughter came to visit him. And you were starting to look forward to it, too– you’d always loved listening to the band rehearse and slowly work through new songs until they came to a final project, even more than you liked watching their shows. You missed getting to witness that process, and on top of it, you were extremely curious about Daisy and what she brought to the dynamic. 
“You ready?” Camila asked, coming into the living room with a bag slung over her shoulder. 
“Yes we are,” you responded brightly, standing up and cradling Julia closer to your body. She leaned her head on your shoulder and you did your best to hold in the squeal of sheer affection that threatened to overwhelm you. 
Camila grinned, coming over and kissing the baby on the cheek. “She loves her auntie. Don’t you, Julie?” 
“Don’t tell Uncle Graham, but you’re my favorite person in the world,” you stage-whispered into Julia’s hair. Camila laughed and led you out of the house, toward the car. You strapped Julia into her seat before climbing into the passenger seat. 
“Everything okay, Cam? You seem a little tense,” you asked, noting the tenseness of your best friend’s shoulders as she drove. She didn’t respond at all for a moment, as if she hadn’t heard you at all, before she sighed, letting her shoulders drop. 
“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… well, you know Billy’s been stressed. It’s been a while since I’ve come to rehearsal, and I’m just not so sure if it’s a good idea to bring Julia with me,” she confessed. You nodded in sympathy, reaching over and squeezing her bicep reassuringly. You understood what she meant; it took a while after he came home from rehab, but Julia had become Billy’s world. Usually, she was an instant calming agent in his life, just having her around brightened him. But with the way he’d been lately, having even Julia at the studio would be a toss-up. 
“We’ll try it out, and if it ends up not being good, you and me can just take Jules somewhere else, okay? It’s so nice out, we can take her down to the beach or to the park, get her some fresh air.” 
Camila nodded, turning to shoot you a grateful smile as she stopped at a red light. 
***
Upon arriving at the studio, you saw Teddy first, who had stepped out to the hall to make a phone call. He was hanging up as you walked in, and returned the smile you aimed towards him. 
“Hello, ladies,” he said, nodding at the three of you in greeting. 
“Morning, Teddy,” you said. “They’re in the usual studio?” 
“Sure are. I’ll be back in there soon,” he said. You nodded and three of you started down the hall to the familiar room. When you walked in, you saw Tobias at the soundboard, and most of the band hanging around the cramped space. On the other side of the glass, Billy and Daisy stood sharing one microphone, singing something you hadn’t heard before. You waved at Karen, who was the only one to notice yours and Camila’s arrival so far and who was immediately reaching to take the baby from Camila’s arms. You squeezed past her, coming up behind Graham and snaking your arm into the crook of his elbow, leaning your head on his shoulder. He startled, but that ever-familiar grin enveloped his face when he realized it was you. 
“Hey,” you grinned back, leaning up to kiss him. Both of his hands went to either side of your face as he reciprocated, cradling you the way he always did. When you pulled away, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. 
“Listen, we’re working on something new,” he said, nodding toward Daisy and Billy. You focused on the music, and just as you were really getting lost in it, Billy halted abruptly. 
“Those aren’t the lyrics we agreed on,” he asserted, staring intensely at Daisy. She merely shrugged. 
“I know, but I feel like the song is missing a note of insecurity,” she explained, “and it’s only a slight tweaking of the lyrics and we get that.” 
“I didn’t write it with the intention of a ‘note of insecurity’, I wrote it to sound the way it already does!” 
Teddy had walked into the soundbooth just as the two of them had started bickering, and he went over to the mic immediately. “Alright, let’s do a take Billy’s way, and a take Daisy’s way, and then discuss. Can you both work with that?”
Daisy nodded immediately, and Billy woodenly nodded as well a moment later. “My way first,” he said, and you smirked as Daisy did her best to stop her eyes from rolling as she agreed. Along with everyone else, you listened intently as the pair rolled through both takes. It was immediately clear to you that, even though they were only slightly different, Daisy’s lyrics had a certain edge to them that Billy’s version had been lacking. You all filed out of the soundbooth to meet Daisy and Billy in the other room to discuss. 
“What do you think?” Daisy asked immediately, peering around at the gathered faces. Billy stood apart from her, jaw clenched and arms crossed over his chest. You glanced around, wondering who would be the first to offer their opinion. 
“It’s Daisy’s for me,” Karen said bluntly as she lit up a cigarette. “She’s right, her changes add something that the original was missing, something that should be there.” 
“It’s better,” Eddie agreed. 
Billy’s eyes hardened. “She’s taking the song in a completely different direction than I intended.” 
“It’s not so different, Billy. It just adds another layer of complexity,” Graham countered. “And I can already see where I can tweak the guitar a bit to better accommodate the vibe.” 
“Oh, so what? We’re changing the whole song now?” Billy asked. 
“Come on, Billy, you know that’s not what’s happening,” Karen cut in. 
“Daisy’s lyrics are just as catchy as the original, but they cut deeper, I think,” you piped up before you even realized you were going to speak. Immediately, you regretted it; usually, you did your best to stay out of any drama and arguments that cropped up in the group. Nine times out of ten they had nothing to do with you, and it wasn’t worth the agita to weigh in. This time, you had just gotten so caught up in the conversation, and opened your mouth before you could check yourself. Billy turned to you, scoffing, an anger in his eyes that had rarely, if ever, been aimed at you before. 
“Not for nothing, (y/n), but this has nothing to do with you. Nobody asked what you think, and nobody wants to hear it,” he shouted. You stared at him, blinking, trying and failing to think of an appropriate response to his outburst. Anger simmered beneath your skin that he would dare to talk to you like that, but even deeper, you were hurt. You had only been trying to help. Around you, chaos erupted. 
Daisy turned on him and said, “Actually, I asked.” 
Simultaneously, Warren piped up for the first time to say, “Aw, c’mon man, lay off, she’s trying to help.” 
Eddie and Karen were both saying something, too, but you couldn’t hear them. Graham had stepped away from your side and towards his brother, jabbing his finger into his chest. His voice was dangerously low, acidic, when he opened his mouth. “Don’t you ever fucking talk that way to her again, Billy, or I’ll make sure you can never speak again. I’m sick and tired of you bulldozing everybody else in this band and in our lives for the simple crime of disagreeing with you. Stand there, shut up, and take the fucking constructive criticism like a man.” 
Everyone was silent, gaping at Graham. When he didn’t back up, Billy took the initiative and took a step away from his brother, mouth pressed into a thin line. 
“Well, that settles that,” Teddy said with finality. “We’ll go with Daisy’s lyrics when we pick up where we left off tomorrow. Now all of you go home.” As soon as the words were out of Teddy’s mouth, Billy turned on his heel and stormed away. Graham stared after him for a moment, before turning himself and walking off in the opposite direction. He headed for the side exit into the alley, disappearing outside before anyone else could speak. 
Camila turned and handed Julia off to Eddie, and her eyes met yours. A silent conversation passed between you– Are you okay? Yes, and you? Are you okay to go after him? – Camila nodded slightly, and you nodded back, both of you going after your personal Dunne brother. 
Outside, Graham was leaning against the brick wall, lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He tensed when he heard the door open, but immediately relaxed when he realized it was you. A sadness creeped into his clear blue eyes, clouding them like a sudden storm on a beautiful day. You walked over to stand in front of him, and instinctively his hands found their resting spot on your waist. You put your own hands on his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. 
“I’m sorry,” he said, before you could speak. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that in front of you.” 
“Baby, I came out here to make sure you were okay and to say thank you,” you insisted, brow furrowed. “Thank you for standing up for me the way you did. I know it’s hard for you to do that when it’s Billy you’re standing up to. I’m proud of you for finding your voice when it comes to him.” 
Graham sighed, and his eyes cleared with relief. He slumped further against the wall, pulling you with him. “Not that it’ll make much of a difference. Billy’ll continue on the way he always does, and I know it, but I couldn’t just let him talk to you like that.” 
“Doesn’t matter if Billy doesn’t change after this, I’m still proud of you for standing up for me and for everyone that Billy belittles, and I know the rest of the band is proud of you, too,” you doubled down. 
Graham nodded, but he wouldn’t look at you. Gently, you grasped his chin and turned his face toward yours. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah. Yes, I’m okay. Just… frustrated with him, I guess,” Graham nodded. “Are you okay?” 
“More than okay, especially since my knight in shining armor stepped in to protect my honor,” you replied, grinning cheekily. Graham laughed, shaking his head and pulling you fully into a hug. You rested your head against his chest, moving to wrap your arms around his waist tightly. After a minute, you looked up and said, “Now, how about we get outta here and go get some food?”
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diazsdimples · 7 months
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Several Sentence Sunday
Hi, I'm back with a (large) snippet of Frostpunk AU, this one set before the last one because I cannot write chronologically it seems. Also I've had beans for the smut at the end of this so who knows, the next snip might be some seggs!
The coals lying in the firepit in the middle of the cabin are still warm, indicating another scouting team had been here not too long ago. Tommy starts up the fire as Eli gives Edmundo a once over, and then helps Buck to release Christopher from his burrow in Buck’s clothes. Both Edmundo and Christopher’s temperatures are up a couple of degrees, giving Buck hope that they might make it back in time. Edmundo’s heart is still racing, and his breathing is still shallow. Buck watches as Eli’s face goes tight when he reads the amount of oxygen in Edmundo’s blood, and he pulls Bobby aside for a hushed conversation. “10 bucks says the kid makes it, but the dad doesn’t,” Sal says as he settles himself between Buck and Tommy on the floor. Immediately, Buck’s blood boils. That’s someone’s life Sal’s talking about, betting on an outcome that would make Christopher an orphan (Buck assumes, he has no idea what happened to the boy’s mother) and would turn the kid’s life upside down. Sal’s usually a decent enough guy but sometimes, he can be a total prick. “Twenty says they make it back to the city and both survive,” Buck replies fiercely. “They’re going to make it. They’ve got to.” “Buck, man, don’t get too attached,” Tommy says placatingly, resting his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “We can’t save everyone.” Buck shrugs it off, annoyed. “I’m not getting attached,” he insists, though as the words leave his mouth, he knows they’re not entirely true. He’s spent four hours holding this kid close to him, sharing his warmth and energy so the boy might survive. It’s hard not to feel some kind of responsibility towards him. Not helped by the fact that as he walked behind Tommy, Eli, and the stretcher, he couldn’t help but catalogue Edmundo’s features, too. The way his eyelashes stood out against his cheeks, long and brown against the olive of his skin. The way his lips were slightly parted as he breathed, full and pink and just a little bit chapped from the wind. The way the wind would rustle through his hair, making it fluffy and pillow-like, with the occasional wavy strand falling over his forehead. Buck’s not blind, he can appreciate beauty when he sees it, but there’s something more to Edmundo. Something in the way he waited to know his son was safe before he let himself succumb to the exhaustion, as though he valued his son’s life more than his own. Or perhaps the way he’d sought out Buck’s hand, clinging to him the way a small child clings to their father in the face of fear. Edmundo may seem like a tough, no-nonsense man on paper, with his credentials from the military, but Buck can tell that deep down, he’s a lost boy, trying to find his way home. It makes Buck want to protect him and Christopher all the more.
tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @puppyboybuckley @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @pirrusstuff @housewifebuck @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @tizniz @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @babytrapperdiaz @ci5mates @hermscat @thekristen999 @epicbuddieficrecs
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cowgirlcherrie · 1 year
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after the storm. ⚡︎ florist! abby drabble
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╰   * a/n: no plot for this either but rather a spin off on my headcanons ! just a little treat for my patient babis who were waiting for more ♡ in simple words this is about happy accidents. . .
song(s) — after the storm. kali uchis & tyler the creator , falling in love. laufey
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3:40pm new york. 
Abby didn’t do love.
Although it would be nice and she yearned for it. She wished with the very small penny that she would find in her sage dickies, somewhere blanketed with an old mint gum wrapper and her brown leather wallet in her pocket. Tossing her very last penny into the Washington Square Park fountain wishing for a lover as considerate or even more than her. One to build flowers for and be her muse. 
One to make stockings with around the holidays where she would plant mistletoe around the house, using it as an excuse to merge lips with her lover; and to make floral centerpieces for the family dinners.
Was it too much to ask for?
Abby felt like a late-bloomed flower in comparison to her peers. They were going to wine and dining events with their partners, fancy yachts in the summer, and getting engaged. Everyone was falling in love around her whilst she fell behind and was tormented into watching. 
On this typical, almost mundane Saturday,  the rain flooded down the crevices of the tall buildings hugging the wood and brick of the apartments and offices. Golden Canary taxis beeping as passengers let out screeches rushing to the nearest hut under the rain. Abby stood frozen in her floral shop. Figure in front of the window pane, as she let out cracked whistles through her dry lips, hands in her pockets. The jingling of her keys almost matched the sound of how hard the rain came down. Rocking on her toes, to and fro. Abby being alone for the evening took a number. It was vacant around the shop, the smell of roses, chrysanthemums, and daisies merged together itching at her senses — she could feel a faint sneeze drifting up her nostrils from the dust in the vents. 
She liked the glass windows. Largely panned giving everyone a wide view into the small business, including herself who had gotten nosy at strangers on the concrete. She admired the different people that she would see. The couple where the girlfriend would beg her partner to buy them a bouquet or a rose; The children dug in the crates begging their parental figure for dandelions to make wishes. It was all too pure for Abby, making her heartache at how the flowers brought unity to everyone around her. It was innocent, lovely and made her love her job even more. 
Abby itched at the nape of her neck, swinging her braid to the back as she bolted outside in a hurry to bring the cart of flowers inside as the wind picked up; business was dying down now that people seek shelter instead of enjoying nature. Abby stuck her left foot out kicking the wooden stopper in the door, door chimes ringing as her hands gripped the cart of the flower display. 
Abby underestimated the rain, her body was instantly covered in droplets her black t-shirt clinging to her chest almost becoming uniform with her skin. Providing a roughed, sloppy kiss to every curve and outline of her tender body. Abby let out grunts as she pushed the cart inside having to do it all alone until she heard footsteps. Not slow ones, but rather rapid, almost like the sound of the motorcycles against the pavement, bikers revving up at the stoplight. 
You were in a hurry, and it seemed as though the day couldn’t get any worse. You wanted to cry and bawl up into your bed, holding the sheets so tightly as sobs flowed through you as the serotonin in your body decreased. Tears weld up in your eyes as you run through the city streets, an oversized blazer above your head with some distance as you used it to shield you from the rain. Why me? – you would cry out, thick lashes sticking to the sunken skin of your eyelids as your face grew puffier in tears. That was all you wanted to do. But naturally, you couldn’t find a way to win. Not only was it raining, wet wind smacking your face, but you were going to miss your train because you weren’t moving fast enough. You were through for the evening. Briefly, your running slowed down in front of a flower shop catching your breath, heaving as your hands lowered letting the rain wash over you like a fresh cold shower.
You lost.
And to confirm it, a black Sudan drove by; hitting a pothole, splashing murky rainwater onto your work outfit leaving you drenched and soaked furthermore. Blinking rapidly, a loud gasp echoed behind you, followed by a falling ceramic flowerpot that collided with beige concrete, the sound echoing like an ice machine. Making your head snap to your left seeing a just-as-wet figure, cursing under her breath as her hands gripped the edges of the table.
She seemed just as stressed as you were. Considering the flower pot on the floor with dirt smeared and washing away into the city drains like mascara on a wet face made you wince. Picking up the still intact flowers surrounded by the broken glass.
She looked like she could use some help.
“Hey!” you shouted, but your voice was low compared to the rain that was drowning you out, the girl didn’t answer steadily pushing the cart in between the long rectangular door. “HEY!”
She stopped moving the cart, lifting her eyes up from the cart in front of her. Her lashes were long – her face free of any makeup, a light dusting of rose across each cheek, contoured and sculpted edges, giving her a bronzy look under the summer solstice. It didn’t help that the rain was making it hard to see turning your vision into endless mush. The flowers behind her almost popped out and came to life…full bloom and kissable touch. You were stuck, still breathing…but heavily of course; you zoned out somewhere lost in her ocean of eyes, before snapping out of it at the sound of someone’s car alarm going off on the street.
her tattoos and soft face almost mocking each other at her inquires as a floral shop owner.
Everything got louder almost amplified. Obnoxious noises match your heartbeat. Her lips were parted as she eyed your wet figure up and down. 
“Let me help!” the both of you shouted at the same time. Followed by sweet sweet laughter amidst the rain. 
“No, seriously let me help” This time the woman in front of you was whispering, almost merging voices with the pellets of rain hitting the metal of the table. Blonde hair sticking to the sides of her face.
There was a silent agreement. You put the jacket you were using as an umbrella back on your arms, followed by locking your purse over your shoulder as you reached to the other end across from Abby lifting up the table with the count of 3. The two of you carry the table back inside, this time no spills.
You weren’t sure why but she was like a breath of fresh air, beautiful and in her own world almost as if the heavens planted her there for you to see. It was purely an accident that you stopped in front of the flower shop. Hell, you could have chosen Mimi’s Bakery or that’s vintage! Threading and clothing warehouse but your body chose  Lovestrung Florals. How glad you were that you did, new feelings brewing inside of you as your brain struggled to find the right words. 
The broken flower pot remained, in unity with the concrete hugging each and every crevice of the holes in between the rocks. Going unnoticed by both you and Abby as the two of you worked together, not even catching the single cream-colored rose that was deteriorating under the harsh application of rain. Drowning in water as the petals peeled off and ran down the sidewalk into the city drains, tainted with dark mud; changing like the seasons. The sun begun to peak out embedded through the grey clouds casting a bright glow haze on the busy Soho streets.
“Now let's get you inside, don’t need your beautiful self getting sick now do we?”
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the-kr8tor · 7 months
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Can i request fae hobie and reader? Maube where it doesnt happen in the fall, like totally separate universe. Like i deadass need to seem him as a dad with kids and with reader happily man😭, you dont gotta do it though dw dw.
Fae! Hobie with kids you say? I gotchu, angel 🫶
Pairing: Fae! Dad! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Fae AU, Dad AU, Fluff.
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
Juniper runs happily in the field, green dress swinging wildly, tall grass parting for her, little daisies kiss her feet as she sprints away from her younger sister. Poppy whose smaller legs make it hard for her to keep up, her curly hair frames her chubby cheeks, a toothy grin brings light in your laughter while you watch them chase each other on the grass. The tiny bundle gurgles in your arms, his golden eyes stares at you expectantly like he's asking you why you're laughing.
The sun beams down at your little family and the bubble that Hobie made to keep you and his family away from prying eyes and dangerous people. The large oak tree provides shade for you and your newborn, soft fabric lay under you for comfort. You've settled deep in the woods, miles and miles away from the nearest soul. Hobie has done a great deal to protect you and his children, keeping everyone inside his realm safe and sound. And he'll do anything to keep it that way, with every means necessary.
You tilt your head, cooing and nuzzling your nose on top of Bear’s head. The name wasn't much of a choice per se but you and Hobie couldn't pick a suitable name so you both nicknamed him in the meantime always calling him your ‘little bear’ the both of you got so used to calling him ‘your bear’, you two just decided that it's his name now.
A large hawk flies overhead, a breeze following past, fluttering the grass and the leaves. The girls stop playing, pointing and yelling at the bird.
“Dad’s back!” Junie yells, she runs towards you, all smiles and giggles. She was your carbon copy when she was born but now that she's older there's more of Hobie you see in her everyday. From her height to how she scrunches her nose when she laughs.
“Dad's back! Did you see?!” She bounces up and down, tiny ribbons decorating her thick curls. “Mum, did you see?” Junie breathes heavily from her run.
“I did see, baby. Where's your sister?” You peek behind her, noticing that Poppy isn't following close.
For a second your heart falls from your chest until you see Hobie carrying her in his arms, tiny hands waving wildly in the distance. You can breathe again.
“Come sit down, Junie, drink some water.” she plops down next to you.
“‘m not thirsty.” Stubborn, like her father.
“Even if you're not, you still need to drink because you've been sweating a lot.” You wipe her moist forehead with a towel. “See? Go drink, my flower.” With a huff, she does what she's told. Definitely Hobie's daughter, alright.
A shadow casts over you, Bear smiles, blowing a milk bubble from his lips.
“Hello there.” You smile up at Hobie and Poppy who's currently clambering down from her father.
She settles next to you, greeting Bear with a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hi mummy.” Her auburn eyes smile at you. Poppy, the sweet heart that she is, presses a loud smooch on your temple.
“Hello, my star, go drink water for me? Please?”
“Okay!” She half crawls towards her sister and the picnic basket. You think this one takes after you more.
“Hey you—” Hobie falls on the blanket with a thud, fatigue marring his chiseled face. “Everything okay?” you roam your eyes over his body for any signs of a fight. Heart clenching at the thought, thankfully you find none.
You trace the muscles on his arm, goosebumps rising on his skin where your fingers have touched him. You find that it's the only thing that could do that to him.
He sighs, despite the tiredness he still finds it in him to smile at you. “Everything is as it should be.” Sitting up, he takes a peek at the new addition in the family. “Little Bear, have you been good?”
“Hobie,” your tone is serious. “The barrier—?”
“It's staying strong.” He flicks a fallen leaf off your shoulder. “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”
You nod, feeling the lump in your throat disappear. Laying your head on his shoulder, you breathe him in, drowning in him.
“Bring me next time? I worry when you're not here.”
“Once you're better,” he promises. “For now, focus on resting.” Hobie holds the back of your head, kissing the crown of flowers the girls made you. It crinkles under the weight of his lips.
“Dad!” Juniper screams for her dad's attention. “Look! Poppy and I caught a lizard!”
He chuckles, right hand cradling Bear's head casually. “Careful, that one breathes fire.” he teases.
“Ack!” Junie lets it go while Poppy laughs. The tiny lizard skidaddles out and into the tall grass. “aww, bye mr. Lizard.”
“Come sit with us, froggy.” Hobie pats the space next to him.
Junie quickly makes her way to him, instead of sitting next to her father, she takes her seat on his lap. The sudden weight brings an ‘oof’ from Hobie. She giggles, embracing her father as a half apology.
Poppy pouts, a copy of Hobie when he wants a cuddle but doesn't want to ask directly.
“There's a seat right in the middle just for you, rabbit.” Hobie scooches a bit, her pout morphs into a grin, baby teeth peeking out from her lips.
You notice her blue overalls are getting smaller on her, mentally making a note to make a new one for her. She's growing so fast, it's what you expected since she takes after her father. It makes you excited to see Bear grow up, you wonder whether he takes after you or Hobie.
Poppy loops her arm around yours while she wraps the other one around Hobie's. She kicks her feet happily, laying her forehead atop your arm. She hums a familiar tune.
You look over her head to peer at Hobie, finding that he's already staring at you. Mouthing an ‘I love you’, you watch as his tiredness fades, replaced by a bright genuine smile.
He answers with a hand behind your neck, pulling you closer, chastely kissing with the promise to protect the family you two made.
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munsonsreputation · 1 year
Text
I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH
CHAPTER ONE - WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS
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series masterlist | chapter two ↣
🎧 soundtrack
steve harrington x fem!baker + artist
word count: [20.2K]
warnings: no use of y/n, lots of mentions of self deprecation, reader talking about an emotionally exhausting past bf, steve talking shit abt his parents, cursing, steve & reader crushing on each other so mutual pining, lots of sweetness and fluff &lt;3
summary: you make friends with a girl named Robin who politely and hilariously mistakes some red paint on your jeans as blood. Who knew it would lead to you and her becoming friends and her inviting you to meet her other ones? The even bigger mystery is how her best friend, Steve, is starting to become someone you’re falling for.
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Steve Harrington’s living room was packed. Not that it was particularly out of the ordinary since his place was the go-to spot for hangouts, but today it had been packed for a different reason and a new arrival. Though it seemed Robin was the only uneasy person even when she was the one who had begged for this to happen.
Trying to cope, she began fluffing up the couch pillows and straightening the books on the coffee table while she rambled. 
“She’s cool. I mean, she paints, for one, like totally realistic paintings, but she also really loves baking!”
Mike rolled his eyes, puffing dramatically and deciding to take a flop down on the couch where she just tidied up, “She sounds like my grandma.” 
“Piss off!” Robin hissed, smacking his knee as the rest of their friends watched on at the repartee. 
Steve was the skeptical one about the whole situation, considering what could happen if Robin’s new friend wasn’t entirely who she was supposed to be. It’s not that he didn’t trust Robin’s whole intuition about people, but you seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy because the person Robin described to all of them for the past few weeks was pure perfection.
Even everyone else was beginning to question if meeting at Steve’s house for the first time was a good idea, realizing that you could be a creep or a murderer, but they were just being a tad bit dramatic. Before he could think too much into it than he already was, the doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention and eyes that darted towards the front door.
“I’ll get it!”
Robin clapped her hands excitedly, darting to the door and unlocking it with vigor before opening it wide enough so she and everyone else could get a good look at you. 
You stood in the doorway with a big smile and your hands full. One balancing a bright yellow ceramic dish on your palm, and your other arm busy holding a covered frame between your body. 
You wore a white skirt, decorated with itty bitty eyelets that resembled a daisy cutout and a white top with the same pattern to match. A brown shoulder bag draped across your chest and a pair of strappy sandals on your feet. 
Only when you inched forward, meeting cheek to cheek with Robin, in an endearing hello, did they finally get a good glance at what you looked like.
Bright eyes, wispy lashes, and lids covered in the tiniest amount of sheer glitter. A glow from within on your cheeks and high points, like the sun and pretty pink petals were rushing to the surface of your skin. Dewy lips coated in gloss and flickers of sparkles that shined through your smile that you wore throughout the interaction.
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth and the first time they had heard your voice. 
Robin shook her head, opening the door wider and prompting you in, “don’t be!”
You looked around in curiosity, taking in the architecture and feel of the home before being greeted with a few smiles and waves from the strangers around the living room.
You returned it, though it never really dared to leave your face to begin with. Softly speaking out a few, “hi’s” and “hello’s” to them before turning towards Robin and holding out a big frame towards her.  
“Happy Birthday!” You declared gleefully as she stared at you confused.
The rest of her friends murmuring something about possibly forgetting her birthday, just as puzzled as her. 
She stuttered, trying to recall if she might have told you the wrong date or something, “I-It’s not my birthday?” 
Your cheek met your shoulder shrewdly, once again pushing the gift towards her, “I know! But I wanted an excuse to give you this.” 
You juggled the canvas into your hands, trying your best not to drop the pie pan. Robin reached her hands out, taking the pie from you as you flashed her a thankful smile, pulling the cover off the canvas to present her with a small gift of gratitude. 
“Tah-Dah!” You singsonged, turning the canvas towards her and watching the shock and amazement that covered her face before a wide smile appeared followed by the “oh’s” and “ah’s” of her friends that you completely forgot about.
Robin spun her arms to the left of her, hastily handing the pie to Steve who took it and placed it on the coffee table. The front entrance of his home, now the new crowded spot as everyone marveled at the artwork. He quickly joined in, not wanting to miss an ounce of it, finding an open spot between you and Robin. 
He took it all in, eyes fixed on the print that was gushing with blossoms of her favorite colors: sage green, mauve, and pale yellow. But it wasn’t an ordinary painting—the petals were formed with dollops of the paint, and it probably took days to dry. It was rare, something that he and the others had never seen before. 
His fingers brushed the paint petals, careful not to mess up your handwork,“This is incredible….” 
Flickering his gaze to you, he flashed you a toothy smile, letting his hand pull back from the canvas and stick out towards you.
“I’m Steve, by the way.” He extended his arm, making a sweeping gesture to catch your attention.
Tearing your eyes away from Robin’s heartwarming reaction, your sights drifted to the hand, then to the owner of it, instantly captivated by his friendliness and allure. Your stare lingered a bit too long, lost in trying to memorize him, so you shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the trance you fell into. 
“Oh, sorry! It’s nice to meet you!” Quickly you handed the entire piece to Robin, adverting your full attention to the new acquaintance whose house you just barged into. 
You knew just from the looks of it that he was Steve Harrington, the guy that Robin had described to you as being her insanely attractive yet idiotic best friend.
His hair, like Robin had described, was unquestionably perfect, falling into place as if he didn’t even try. Robin let you in on a secret that he was infamously called “King Steve” throughout high school for being so good with the ladies—now you were sure you knew why.
He chuckled when you grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it with vigor like how a father would but without the cynical look on your face. Instead, you looked genuinely thrilled, twinkling eyes and a broad smile gracing your lips. 
“Great to finally meet you. Robin’s been yapping all week about her new friend.” 
You laughed quietly, finally letting go of his hand and reaching over to sling your arm across Robin’s shoulder. She leaned into you, nuzzling her head against yours with a content look on her radiant face.
“Well, she’s been raving about all of her friends, so I just knew I had to meet you all.” 
Robin smirked, finally giving you a hug and murmuring a curt thank you for the generous gift and turning to all of her friends while keeping you close to her side. 
“Everyone, this is my new friend. I met her last week and now we’re attached to the hip!” Robin announced, her voice carrying a mix of affection and playful teasing.
Steve feigned a gasp, holding a hand over his heart, “Replacing me already?”
“Oh shut up, dingus!” Robin reached forward, whacking him with her palm as he yelped and pretended to be offended. 
A curly-headed boy sporting a baseball cap stepped forward, “Ignore those two, they’re literal children…I’m Dustin!”
You reached your hand out, shaking his before casually everyone began introducing themselves to you. 
Part of you was trying to remember each name connected to a face, but it was also a tad bit overwhelming with so many of them. Making friends was never an easy task for you, but you liked your own solitude, so you didn’t mind. But that also didn’t mean you didn’t long to have friends who you could talk to or hang out with from time to time and share your life with. 
So when Robin tapped you on the shoulder at the grocery store to inform you your period had arrived you were visibly horrified but relieved that she offered you her jacket as you two found the restroom. And in the bathroom you let out a ridiculous laugh, covering your mouth as she stared at you in the mirror’s reflection confused. 
“Red paint! This is paint! I must have sat on it or something!” 
You and Robin hit it off, talking for what seemed like hours inside that grocery store bathroom. The two of you had a habit of over sharing, but it helped you bond and grow closer. After exchanging numbers and spending afternoons on the phone talking and getting to know each other better , she invited you over to a hangout with her friends.
“You guys must have scared her or something.” Robin shook you a bit in her hold to grab you away from a little daydream.
You blinked, looking over at her, then back to her friends watching until you came through, “sorry! sorry! I zone out sometimes…I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be. She does it all the time.” Steve pointed at Robin who stuck her tongue out at him. 
Nancy, the brunette who you remembered as one of the kids’ older sister, stepped forward hooking her arm inside yours, “Okaaaay, here, why don’t you come sit?”
She wore a warm smile and guided you further into the living room. Her touch was gentle, and the gesture alone made you feel like she was happy to have you here, easing a bit of your anxiety. When she unhooked her arm from yours, you mouthed a “thank you,” and she shook it off, just smiling and patting the empty seat beside her. 
You placed your purse down on your lap, while Robin sat on the other side of you. The rest of the friends finding their own area on the opposite couch or on the floor, making you feel less suffocated and more like an inviting circle. 
“Robin tells us that you’re mega cool!” Dustin exclaims followed by a thwack on the head by the red head Max and her boyfriend Lucas who sports the bucket hat. 
Timidly, you swung your head low, feeling a mix of bashfulness and gratitude for her words when you weren’t around. You glanced towards Robin, who beamed with pride because she genuinely thought you were the coolest person she had ever met—probably even on the planet. 
“I don’t think I’m cool…like at all.” You admitted, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
Robin rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friends then looking back at you, “She’s too humble, I mean really, she is so super duper cool and I’m shocked she’d even consider being my friend.” 
Jokingly, you nudged her, making her laugh, “Don’t sell yourself short, Robin—“ 
Before you could continue uplifting the spirts of self esteem, the boy with the unruly hair…Mick? Mike! 
Mike cuts in, eyes zeroing in on your torso where you begin to follow. 
“What’s that on your shirt?” He squinted, pointing at the recent stains on your top. 
Peeping your eyes down and looking meticulously, the stain was barely noticeable unless someone was really looking—anyway, the white color was a bit off from the shade of your actual top, and there had been some sort of residue left. 
Nancy realized it at first, seeing that the stain couldn’t be seen to the naked eye, unless her brother was being a disgusting little shithead. She swiftly grabbed the decorative pillow behind her, chucking it towards him.
“You’re such a pig, Mike!” 
Everyone switched their attention from you, and instead pestered and teased Mike for being so “observant” with you here in a spaghetti strap top.
But you attempted to stifle your laughter, not wanting him to feel so embarrassed despite his sudden interjection. You were hoping he wasn’t being a stereotypical depraved teen who couldn’t focus when your shoulders were out.
Instead, you attempted to swipe at it with your fingertips, but alas it didn’t budge and stubbornly clung to the fabric, “ It’s just paint and apparently…” You tugged the portion closer to your nose, scrunching it up, “Sugar. Powdered sugar.” 
The young boy almost looked impressed at your ability to articulate the specific ingredient despite the verbal onslaught he had just faced. “Sick.” 
Robin clicked her tongue, jutting her chin out toward Steve who sat across from you in a recliner. 
“Steve, give her something to change into,” she told him, prompting him to sit up, looking at you and instantly nodding. 
“Yeah, of course, follow me,” He motioned you to follow his lead as he stood up, yet you remained sitting, tipping your head slightly up at him.
You raised one of your brows, “Are you sure? I’m totally ok with it. It’s my fault, anyway.” 
“I’m sure…c’mon, it’s the least I could do.” Steve nodded again, waving his arm towards himself, and you got up.
Trailing behind Steve up the stairs, you marveled at the simplicity of the home despite its expanse. The wallpaper was a muted gray with cream accents and walls encasing the space leading up were decorated with a few framed photographs that you assumed were Steve and his family.
From what Robin had told you, his parents weren’t home too often, if at all, which explained why the photos were outdated and mostly from his childhood, having no evidence of recent portraits.
The hallway towards the bedrooms had a running rug across the wooden floors. The fuzzy textile felt worn yet homey against your feet. Steve’s bedroom was located at the end of the hall, and when he opened up the door, you seemed to feel more of his personality shining in that space. 
“Ignore the mess.” He apologized, twisting open the door to let you in first.
In contrast to the living room and main quarters of the house, his room felt more like himself. 
The wallpaper in his room, plaid with white, green, and black accents and, of course, matching curtains. His bed was somewhat neatly made with the pillows fluffed and gray sheets on the mattress. A few drawers to hold what you assumed were part of his closet and other belongings.
But his desk, which looked to be the most messy yet contained spot of his room, littered with tapes, books, and other papers. The only thing hanging on his wall was a photo of a vintage car that you couldn’t name for the life of you. 
You turned your head to look at him, where he stood, watching you taking in the space with a grin,“You’re actually really neat…neater than I am.” 
Steve let out a grunt, chuckling to himself as he turned to his accordion wardrobe doors and opened them in search of finding you something without a stain. It didn’t help that he had forgotten to do a fresh load of laundry, but that the rest of his clean shirts were polos and hoodies. 
“So are you from Hawkins?” He wondered, sifting through the hangers. 
“No, I’m from Roane, actually! I only really come to Hawkins for the art store but last weekend I decided to run my errands here since I was already in town and that’s how I met Robin.”
You explained, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your shirt between the stain still trying to get it out.
Steve plucked a hoodie from the rack, holding it up in front of you, trying to decipher its comfort. The fabric was way too thick, and he was certain that in this Hawkins weather you’d be drowning in not only a puddle of fleece but sweat too.
Shaking his head, he gave you an apologetic glance that you didn’t seem to catch.
“You live alone?” He planted the item back on the hanger and continued to look. 
“Yeah, but I actually used to live with my boyfriend…or ex-boyfriend now,” You clarified, giving up on the stubborn stain and sighing, “we were together for a little while but he just decided things weren’t working out and so he left.” 
He looked back briefly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, “How many years were you guys together…if you don’t mind me asking.” 
You shook your head, reassuring him that it was alright, “Six years.” 
The widening of his eyes made you giggle, but it wasn’t unexpected considering someone your age having a relationship that long wasn’t typically normal.
“Excuse me? Six years! I don’t even think I’ve had a single friend stay in my life for six years.” 
“Seems like a lifetime, right?” You joked with a comical lift to your voice and he nodded like it was the obvious answer, which it was. 
He knew that you both weren’t too far apart in age, both in your early twenties, but it was just shocking to hear that you were in a six year relationship at your age. The longest relationship he had was a year with Nancy Wheeler and even then that seemed like forever, but you must have really fallen deeply in love with your ex if you lasted that long. 
“We kinda just grew out of each other.  It’s kinda inevitable after dating all four years of high school then two years after that. We just realized that we wanted different things in life and by different, he wanted me to “finally start taking life seriously,” or whatever the fuck that meant.”
You rolled your eyes dramatically, making air quotes with your fingers.
So that explains it, he thought to himself.
“He wanted to move out of Indiana?” Steve questioned, turning his attention back to his closet. 
You made a noise, unsure if that fully answered his question. But you moved up beside him, silently asking if it was okay to help him sift through the hangers. Nodding, he shifted over, giving you space to look through the untouched hangers.
You went back to his question, giving him an actual answer, that you hoped would sum up the story that was way too long to tell in whole. 
“Not necessarily…but he just didn’t like the fact that art was not only my hobby, but my passion. He always wanted me to get a real job, you know, those boring ones where you sit at a desk all day and think about what you did so wrong in your past life to be doing paperwork for the rest of it.” 
His eyes followed as your face contorted with revulsion as if that was one of the most heinous jobs in the world, but for someone like you who thrived off creative free rein, it truly was. Steve threw his head, laughing at your expression, finding it truly amusing because for someone like him, he also realized that even if he was a lost young adult, he’d much rather keep working at a VHS store than walk into work everyday wearing an uncomfortable suit and dozing off in meetings. 
His amusement turned your scorned face upside down, abruptly reeling in the fact that he actually found what you said to be funny. And you hoped that he wasn’t being overdramatic just to make you feel better, but you were positive that it wasn’t because it was the type of laughter that had the skin by his eyes creased because of how hard he was laughing—even his arm slinging over his torso, like the laughter was so infectious that it hurt. 
The sound of his hilarity, leaping off the walls of his room like music to your ears, wishing you possessed the ability to always make people laugh this freely, just to witness moments like this. Eventually, though, he settled down, snapping his fingers at you and pointing with a still carefree smile on his lips. 
“That was a good one! Now I’ve gotta use that when my dad keeps bugging me about getting a real job.” He praised, finally turning back the original spot in his closet and plucking it off the rod.
It was a bright yellow long sleeve, the fabric not too thick or thin, but just about right. You reached for the sleeve of it, feeling the material between your fingers, and Steve’s eyes waited for your approval. 
“Feels nice.” You said with a nod, dropping it from your fingertips and letting him slide the garment off the plastic hanger before placing it in your hands. 
He glanced back at the bedroom door, then back to you, “I’ll wait outside the door so you can change.” He offered, letting himself out and closing it behind him.
Inside the room, Steve could hear the soft rustling as you moved, wondering if what he gave you was good enough or if you were being too nice and not wanting to offend him by saying the yellow color was awful. Meanwhile, you placed your top on the lid of his hamper, making a mental note to come back here and retrieve it before you headed back home. 
His voice came through on the other side of the door, breaking the brief silence.
“Sooo…your ex-boyfriend. I’m sure he was a computer science major, right? Totally douchey with a superiority complex?” 
You snorted, pulling the garment over your body and slipping your arms through the sleeves. “You think computer science is douchey?” 
He leaned up against the door frame, humming a reply and then finding the words.
“Yeah, totally, I mean nothing screams douchey than a guy who thinks he’s better than someone because he works with computers and not a paintbrush.” 
Your movements slowed as you pulled your hair free from the collar and fitted the excess material underneath itself so it wasn’t drowning over you. 
There was suddenly that fond pleasant feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and in the cage of your chest. When Robin had mentioned that Steve was charming, she wasn’t kidding. There was no reason he should have this much of an effect on you so soon. Yet, here he was, effortlessly tearing down your ex-boyfriend and making you feel better about your own endeavors. 
After a few seconds of taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you reached for the doorknob, turning it open to see his body supported by the one arm propped against the wooden frame. You bit your lip, watching his gaze fall down your face to his shirt on your body. 
“Then I’d say you’re right…you guessed it,” Your arms flared out before coming down to your sides, standing there not knowing what else to say considering he had hit the nail head-on. 
For the first time in the last fifteen minutes since he met you, this was the only time you seemed so sheepish. Out in the living room you looked so confident, even when it was obvious that the attention towards you was a little overwhelming, you still could change the subject or revert it somewhere else. Here with your eyes glued to your feet, not meeting him, he felt like you were trapped — that he might have said something that hit a little too close to home and made you uncomfortable. 
His eyes softened, clearly full of regret for being so upfront about a situation he only knew surface level stuff about. Just because you had talked to him a little about the horrible stuff your ex said, didn’t mean he understood the whole story. That there clearly was something deeper, possibly trauma that he didn’t know about and here you were forced to endure the awkward silence and flooding memories of what had happened all because he couldn’t shut up. 
Your view of your feet against the wooden floor was suddenly interrupted by Steve’s hands reaching forward, accompanied by his voice.
“I—I’m sorry, for bringing it up…I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything! I-It’s just, he sounds like a total dick and you should know that what he told you isn’t true—“ 
He spoke rapidly, stumbling over his words and making short pauses, making sense because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy. 
You furrowed your brows, snapping your eyes up to his.
“No, no! You’re fine, it’s just that, no one has really said that stuff about him…about him being an asshole. And…I don’t know, it kinda feels nice to hear.”
Underneath your reassuring expression, your lips twitched up and Steve swore you were about to burst into a full on prideful smirk because of the jabs he took at your ex. So his words indeed took you aback, but in a good way.
He validated your feelings about your past relationship and suddenly there was a shift in the mood, and Steve closed his eyes, taking a relieved breath, grateful that he hadn’t scared you away with that conversation.
Meanwhile, you laughed softly to yourself, feeling a rush of giggles bubble up in your chest, seeing him relax under your certainty.
He opened his eyes, looking at you, trying to look stone-faced, “But, seriously, he’s sounds like a huge asshole,” He couldn’t help the cackle that escaped through his lips, breaking his solemn face, followed by you pushing a hand out and pressing his shoulder gingerly. 
“The hugest! I’m being so serious!” You added, only making the two of you laugh harder, not caring to contain it in the small space between the bedroom and the hallway. 
A simple moment in time was all you needed to know that Steve was genuinely a good guy, not just a pretty face with an idiotic mind attached to him. As the laughter died down, Steve stepped back, holding his hand out and gesturing you into the hallway with him and back down the stairs where you two were met with the noise of your friends chatting in the living room. 
Robin slapped a hand over her forehead once the two of you came into view, earning a raised eyebrow from you and Steve, both of whom stopped a few feet into the area. She exaggeratedly dropped her hand to her side, feigning exasperation.
“What’s the matter?” You crossed your arms across your chest, looking genuinely troubled and waiting for an explanation. 
All eyes turned to you and Steve now, grunts and smothered laughs coming from everyone, while you guys both stood there, oblivious to their reactions. Dustin, unable to contain himself, started convulsing with laughter and clutching his stomach, even going as far as to throw himself into Mike’s lap before getting shoved off.
Then he stood up in front of both of you, pointing an accusing finger at Steve’s shirt he lent you. 
“What did you do to make him hate you so much that he gave you that horrid shirt?”
His face twisted in disgust, and he mockingly gagged, sticking out his tongue and dramatically turning away. Steve should’ve seen this one coming. He swatted Dustin’s hand away from you, shaking his head with a playful scowl. Then placed his hands on his hips, adopting a father-like pose, something else they also teased him for.
He had worn the long sleeve a couple of times before, and each time he did, everyone poked fun at him. Commenting on the revolting color, comparing it to poop or vomit instead of the ground seed condiment he claimed it paralleled, according to the saleswomen at Macy’s who convinced him enough to buy it. And now that’s why he stopped wearing it, growing tired of the kids, but especially Robin and Eddie, calling him ‘Baby Poop Harrington’ in the middle of Star Court and Family Video.
“You guys just don’t get fashion,” Steve argued, raising his eyebrows and forehead toward the others in an unconvincing manner. He fanned his arm, gesturing at you.
“It’s mustard, and it clearly looks good on her.”
The compliment was sudden, causing your eyes to enlarge somewhat and cheeks to blush. You hoped that no one caught it, being too busy to notice you looking downward at the shirt pretending to examine it in order to play it off when in fact you were rubbing your lips together to stop the smile from rising with your cheeks.
The banter continued to go on, which made you relieved, as you were able to get some composure and flicker your sights back up to everyone else arguing with Steve. Eddie huffed out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head where he lounged on the opposite couch. He pointedly stared at you and the outfit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
“Nobody said it doesn’t look good on her. We just said the color isn’t very pretty.”
Nancy tilted her head, observing you and the shirt closely. Her eyes widened in realization, and she nodded in agreement.
“Actually, it does look really good on you. Maybe the styling was the issue.” She glanced at Steve with a grimace before waving it off and marveling at the color.
Steve raised his voice, as if trying to convince them through sheer volume. “I wore it with blue sweatpants!”
“Exactly!” the group chorused, their voices overlapping in mock protest.
You couldn’t help but snort out a short laugh, finding the entire situation amusing. You exchanged glances with Steve, realizing that this was obviously a very passionate but lighthearted topic within the friend group, kinda like their own inside joke.
Steve ignored the rest of the laughter and teasing, falling back into his comfortable recliner as you sat yourself back in between Nancy and Robin.
Lucas, the one seated next to the redhead who was his girlfriend, tapped his fist on the coffee table. “Can we cut into the pie? It smells delicious, and it’s been calling my name for the past thirty minutes.”
You nodded excitedly, rubbing your hands together, “Sure, it’s cherry by the way, so hopefully you all like that!” Your hands fell into your lap, looking over at Steve.
“I just need a knife to cut into it and some plates and forks.” 
Steve rose up, giving you a nod, “I’ll go get it,” he said before walking through the archway into what you assumed was the kitchen. 
The kids had gathered around the coffee table, smelling the air to get a whiff of the baked good you had spent the whole morning baking, and even Eddie got up from his relaxed state to push the kids aside and get a smell. 
You felt a little bad seeing as though Steve had already gone out of his way to open up his home to you and then lend you clothing after a mishap that was entirely your fault, yet you were still sitting here, not helping. 
You looked over at Robin, patting her knee smoothly, “I’ll go help Steve.” 
Before you could stand up, she grasped onto your wrist, waving the other in the air, signing off that he could handle it alone, “He’s fine, don’t worry about it,”
But of course you insisted with a reassuring laugh, feeling her touch drop your hand, as you got up. “No, it’s fine, I really should!” 
Before she could protest or take your spot, you were already striding away, following into the archway that Steve had just gone through. His back was facing you, arms reaching into the cupboard to grab a stack of plates that clinked together. 
“Let me help,” you announced your presence with eagerness, walking up beside him. 
He looked over at you, relaxing his arms back down,“Hey, no, you're not supposed to be helping!” 
Your fingers tugged the bottom of his borrowed long sleeve, the fabric dancing between your fingers as you shot him a mischievous smirk, “Oh, c’mon, it’s the least I could do.”
He smiled at your mocking tone having no choice but to give in, “Fine, but just this once,” pretending to let out an exasperated sigh like you were a nuance, when in fact you weren’t. 
He nodded his chin to the set of drawers where the utensils were prompting you to grab the needed amount of forks while he gathered the remainder of the plates.
“Does it ever get lonely living alone?” He asked, voice carrying a hint of interest, while shutting the cupboard and walking to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a knife.
“Hmmm,” You thought for a second, shrugging as you bumped your hip into the drawer, shutting it gently.
“Sometimes, but I’ve grown pretty used to it. There’s some positives like not feeling so bad when you forget to start the dishwasher.” 
He chuckled, grunting an agreement for the simple joys that living along could bring, but he also wondered about the negatives, “And the cons?” 
Your heart skipped a beat already knowing the answer right off the top of your head because it was something that ate away at your heart every day. Leaving and coming home to the same space, roaming the halls and rooms—all of yours but only yours, the kind that was lonely.
“Not having someone you can go home to, or at least looking forward to coming to.” You confessed with a frown. 
Steve sympathized, knowing that feeling all too well considering the home life he had been living since he was a teenager. Left alone with no parents around to really parent him in the first place, there was a fine line between being a teen and also being the adult to make the house a home. 
He’d try to, even when his parents were away on trips, doing a load of dishes and laundry. Cleaning out the overgrown weeds in the yard. Vacuuming and mopping the floors. All of this in hopes that when his parents did come home and see how it had been maintained, that maybe they’d want to stay home and spend time with their son. 
But alas, that meant nothing to them. If anything, it proved his parents’ thoughts that Steve was more than capable of being home all by himself. Making the home even emptier that it already was knowing that his parents would purposefully be gone longer now. 
“Y’know, it’s nice having this house all to myself, but it gets lonely too. My uh—my parents aren’t really home much, my mom follows my dad on all his work trips…kinda making sure he doesn’t cheat on her or something.” 
He let out a dry laugh while you cringed, expecting that it is in fact a joke, but he continues letting you know it isn’t.
“Anyway, ummm, it’s nice and all being able to throw parties and invite people whenever, but sometimes I just wished there was more here.” 
Looking around the room, he gestured all around and exhaled, “Like family dinners where we actually talk or even just coming home from work and seeing my parents watching tv on the couch. I swear, I haven’t seen them sit in the living room or turn on the tv since I was like twelve.” 
Placing the forks on the stack of plates, you turned apologetically to him, resting a comforting hand on his arm, seeing the way his face fell and his voice wavered on the edge between resentment and misery. 
“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You withdrew, apologizing, though none of this was your fault. 
Steve cleared his throat with a hoarse cough, swinging his head. Placing the knife down on the plates, as he ran his hand down his face, “No, don’t apologize, it’s stupid. I should be grateful they left me with a house to myself, right?” 
He let out a laugh, as if that was going to make you feel any better for the way that he was feeling. Robin only mentioned little about the absence of Steve’s parents, and you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but it made you feel for him. For how lonesome it must be for him to be estranged from the people who gave him life, yet left him under their roof and pretended like he didn’t exist. 
You, however, made the choice to live alone. After you graduated high school, you hightailed it out of your parents’ house and got a lease to your now apartment all by yourself. It wasn’t until a few months later that your then boyfriend moved in, but still after the breakup you got to keep the place all to yourself, which was valuable in a lot of ways. 
But it was also sad.
You didn’t have many friends that you kept in touch with from high school. If anything, they weren’t really the nicest nor supportive types of friends that you wanted to keep anyways. They agreed with your ex that you had to start taking life seriously and cease pursuing art, but you never listened to them. So maybe it was better off to live alone in your own seclusion rather than just keeping them around for company. 
In spite of those not so kind friends of that past, things felt a lot different with the group that you met today. Like you could let your walls down and finally open up the door.
Your finger twiddled against one another, letting out a proposition, “M-Maybe you can come to my place and hangout? All of you…I mean!” 
You were crossing your fingers that he didn’t catch the slip up that made it sound like you only wanted him to come over. 
His hands stop at his jaw, fanning over the skin there, before turning slightly towards you with a surprised look on his face. 
“Really?” 
You nodded eagerly, “I haven’t had guests around for a while and I would really love for you—you guys to come and visit.” 
There was that slip again, but Steve was too engrossed to catch it. 
“I would love—“ 
“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long!?”
The holler coming from the living room burst that bubble between you and Steve, ultimately making you giggle when he groaned heavily, muttering an, “I’m so sorry about them,” to you while you shook your head and followed behind him while he grabbed the kitchenware. 
“You guys were taking forever!” Mike wailed, making Steve roll his eyes as you gave a gentle laugh at his impatience. 
“We were barely gone two minutes.” Steve replied, placing the plates down on the table while you carefully grabbed the knife. 
“It’s my fault. I was talking to Steve about having you guys over sometime.” You said, looking up at the boy before making the first cut into the pie.��
Robin gasped behind you, clapping her hands ecstatically, “Oh my gosh, please! Steve and I are off on Thursday!”
She turned towards Steve, looking at him dubiously. “We’re off on Thursday, right?” 
“Yeah,” He snickered, nodding his head as he slid you a plate to lay the first slice on. 
Steve picked up the plate, giving it to El just to spite the impatient Mike who sat beside her and groaned until you finished cutting the next slice which was given to Lucas. So you continued to cut as Steve served everyone. 
“Jonathan and I have a half day on Thursday, so we should be able to swing by during the afternoon.” Nancy spoke before digging into her slice. 
The last two slices remained as everyone dug into their portion while you plated it up. Passing Steve a plate, “You first.” You said quietly with a smile.
He grinned, thanking you with a nod before taking a seat on the recliner. You got yourself the last plate, scooting back towards your original seat. 
“Where do you guys work?” You looked towards Nance and Jonathan.
He swallowed his piece before speaking. “Hawkins Post. I work on photography and she writes.” his fork pointed to her before she nodded and continued. 
“Technically, we’re still interning, but we’re hoping to secure a permanent job once our internship is up.” She told you as you nodded your head. 
“That’s cool! Roane has a weekly paper, but it’s usually just filled with the same political crap about our Mayor trying to drive out local businesses and replace them with big chain stores.” You said wistfully, shaking your head. 
She chewed faster, murmuring out a reply before she was able to respond with actual words.
“Our Mayor, Mayor Kline, is actually doing the same thing! Jonathan and I have been begging to do a story about it to help save the mom-and-pop businesses, but our boss Tom,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head with annoyance, “he agrees with the Mayor and totally shuts us down every time.” 
You pouted, placing down your untouched plate, and placing a warm hand on her shoulders, “God, I bet you they’re such assholes…I wish I could help, but seriously, if at any point you guys do figure out a way to make it happen, I’ll be happy to help any way I can.” 
Your voice was somehow sweeter than the pie that Steve was scarfing down as he watched and listened on. Everyone was too busy in their own conversations to care about the one you and Nancy were having, but not him, though he was more so focused on you. He just hoped he didn’t look like a sloppy toddler that was too distracted to realize food was all over his mouth.
Steve was just so enamored by your grace and everything that was new to him. 
He noticed the way your eyes would trickle over with all of these different sentiments while Nance confided in you about the struggles at Hawkins Post. But he assumed this was just how you usually were, a part of you, so invest in people and wanting them to know that they could talk to you and you would do your bestest to give your deepest empathy.
Only one thing he couldn’t understand was how anyone, let alone your ex-boyfriend, let go of someone who was as pure and generous as you. Steve Harrington was sure, even after only meeting you today, that you were the sweetest person he had ever had the honor of encountering. That if he really knew you were too good to be true like this, he would’ve begged Robin to invite you sooner.
“Can I have your slice if you’re not going to eat it?” Dustin’s voice broke in, his plate already finished with only crumbs left behind.
Tearing your gaze away from Nancy and switching to the boy who looked on at your untouched plate on the table. You grinned, leaning forward to push the plate closer to him, “Go crazy, I’m not hungry, anyway.” 
So not only were you kind, you were also patient—Steve was making a mental list without even realizing it and knowing what for.
Here you were giving up your slice for the little teenage twerp that just insulted the top you were borrowing only a few minutes ago. If Steve were in your shoes, he’d tell the little shit to think about making fun of mustard again before thinking he’d give up a slice of his pie for him, but then again, you weren’t Steve and you definitely weren’t an asshole. 
“Dude, let her have her slice!” Eddie chastised with a mouth full of cherries and pie pastry. 
Max flicked him on the head with a grunt. “Yeah Dusty, no wonder Suzie broke up with you.” 
Dustin glared, pulling your plate to him, “Oh shut up, I told you me and Suzie are perfectly fine and still together!” he hissed, not hesitating to take a bite of his pie. 
You shifted yourself to face forward, eyes on the kids who were thoroughly not convinced about Dustin’s so-called girlfriend. 
“Suzie?” You spoke curiously, “Does she live in Hawkins?” 
They all shook their heads, and Dustin spoke with a full mouth, but still you could hear him clearly. “She lives in Utah! Her family is crazy Mormon though, so I can only call during certain hours to speak to her through my Cerebro.” 
Your eyes widened, “Cerebro? Like from X-Men?” 
“You know X-Men?” the kids all shouted. 
You laughed, nodding your head undoubtedly. “I only have a few, but X-Men #7 is one of my favorites.” 
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was mega cool.” Dustin’s eyes darted to Robin’s, which made you laugh.
“So tell me more about Cerebro.” 
Honestly, it was hard for any of the kids to find other people who understood or got them the way that their older siblings and friends did. It’s mainly the reason why their friend group was so small and tight-knit in the first place and they’d be lying to say they weren’t the first to oppose the idea of bringing in a new person to the group.
But you seemed genuinely engrossed in the kids’ lives, not just instinctively nodding your head and humming so that they could feel like you cared, but you really did. Asking questions about Dustin’s summer camp where he and Suzie met and finding it quite adorable that he would go out of his way to build something to speak to a girl on the other side of the country.
Halfway through your conversation with the kids, Steve got up, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding you something to eat, seeing as though Dustin took hostage of your food. It didn’t help that he absolutely sucked at cooking and had nothing in his fridge to offer you other than a coke which definitely wouldn’t make up for your pie loss. 
With his back turned to the fridge, he could feel a presence behind him, trying to be quiet, yet failing, and he knew it was you, or at least thought it was because of the earlier instance.
“I thought I told you that you were a guest and you should be enjoying yourself in the—what the fuck Robs!”
She cackled, hunched over laughing to herself once Steve finally turned around and noticed it was, in fact, not you but her. 
“Jesus, what’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on me like that!” He crossed his arms over his chest at Robin who was trying to settle down. 
“You’re so gullible! Like I wasn’t even trying! I was just trying to see what you were up to and you thought that I was her!” She laughed maniacally, failing to contain herself. 
“Yeah, I came in here to try to find something she can eat, seeing as though Dustin lacks consideration and didn’t think to ask if she ate anything before coming here.” He sighed, turning around and opening back up the fridge, like something would magically appear before his eyes. 
Robin calmed down, nudging him away from the refrigerator so that she could get a look. Her fingers instantly pulled open one of the drawers where the fresh fruit that were barely touched were.
“This will do.” She grabbed an apple and orange, passing it off to Steve. 
He raised his brows, “Don’t you think she wants something else?” 
She shook her head. “Nope, she loves fresh fruit! Told me how much she loves them in her salads and how she picks up fresh ones from the market to make sweets and drinks with them.” 
“Fine. Just go back in there and I’ll cut these up.” 
She held her hands up in defense, slightly mocking in a higher pitched voice as she walked backwards, “Oh okay, Chef Harrington, thank you so much for your service to our pretty guest.” 
He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard a snicker come from Robin before she fully exited and gave him the kitchen all to himself where he cut and peeled the fruit, neatly placing them on a plate for you. Steve wished you would have snuck in just to get another chance to talk to you alone because he wasn’t quite sure if he could hold a conversation with you when everyone was around.
You didn’t intimidate him per se, but he liked speaking to you one-on-one when there were no idiotic teens around to make him feel weird for asking such silly questions. But you didn’t sneak in, still holding the conversation with the teens as he walked out and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of you.
“Here you go,” Steve announced softly, not wanting to break the conversation.
You looked up at him, seeing the plated fruit slices he had arranged in a circle, “Oh, you didn’t have to! But thank you!”
“No problem.” He grinned, heading back to his seat.
“So what about you?” You turned your gaze towards El, the quiet one of the bunch who sat and listened for the most part. “What do you like to do?” 
“Poetry.” She said faintly, making you smile as you popped an apple slice in your mouth. 
“I used to do a lot of poetry too when I was your age.” You told her, and she looked at you curiously. 
“I have a ton of journals from when I was in high school, but ultimately I think my calling has always been art.” You smiled at her, seeing the way she lit up at that. 
“What did you write about?”
“Typical teenage stuff. Growing up. Strict parents. Bullies. Boys.” 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max cut in. 
You took a deep breath, unsure of how to bring this up, “Umm, well, I uh, y-yeah—well, no yeah! I meant no! I don’t have one! But I used to, but we broke up.” 
“How long were you together?” Mike asked. 
“Stop being invasive, Michael!” Nancy quietly scolded, earning a glare from Mike who paid her no mind and went back to you waiting for an answer. 
“Umm, you know, a really long time, but it was so long ago that—“ 
“Estimate?” Lucas countered. 
You swallowed anxiously, not really wanting to talk about this, but feeling you had to answer before it got awkward, “Like six—“ 
“Jesus, you twerps are nosey. Just let her and El talk about poetry.” Steve surged into the conversation, getting up to retrieve an orange slice from the plate as he ruffled the hair on the teen’s head walking back to his seat in order to play it off.
You took a deep breath through your light-hearted smile, eyes dancing towards him to shoot him a grateful glance for his quick thinking.
The last thing you wanted to talk to the teens about was your tumultuous relationship that came to a world crumbling end. Plus, the teens were in their own relationships. You didn’t want to jeopardize their ideas of their own relationships because of your past one. They were smart and kind, and didn’t need to hear about your ex to know that about themselves. 
Steve didn’t quite know what else your ex did to make you freeze up like this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up in the first place and he had to make up for that, to let you know that he had your back, even when it came to his own friends who were just as innocently curious as him.
He got the chance to peel back a layer of your history in private, something that he knew was a privilege to learn about, but he wouldn’t let you be put on the spot like this when you weren’t ready. 
There was an ease to the room once Steve made it clear that your love life wasn’t up for discussion right now. Everyone just seemed to forget it was even brought up in the first place. El smoothly shifted topics back to poetry and took the moment to ask you if you still wrote from time to time, which you happily gave her the answer to. 
Thankfully, poetry wasn’t the only topic of discussion. 
Eddie had told you about his band Corroded Coffin that played every Tuesday and Sunday at the Hideout Bar where he also worked. The kids had been begging to go to a show in order to see him and his friends live, but since the bar had a very obvious and strict age limit, they’d just have to wait until they were 21. 
Robin finally told you about her and Steve’s creepy manager Keith who had been smuggling R rated tapes from Family Video, which they then used against him in order to get days off whenever they wanted. Things only got funnier when Steve revealed that Keith had accidentally forgotten to switch the tapes back to the original casing, which led to a very angry mother coming in and demanding to speak to the manager when her son had brought home “Star Whores: Attack of the Silicone.” 
At some point, you found yourself excessively laughing with Nancy and Robin while Jonathan reenacted his father, Hopper’s reaction to a stash of weed that he had bought off of Eddie. Hopper actually sounded pretty cool considering he was police chief and didn’t make the boy flush it down the toilet. Instead, just asking for a bit because he wanted to try to make weed brownies. 
You definitely needed to meet him one day and hopefully ask him how the baking process was. 
Lucas, on the other hand, had vented about the captain of the basketball team, Jason, who was a total asshole and didn’t know how to shoot a three pointer to save his life. Max suggested that one of them attack him from behind and break his leg so that Lucas could be the star player for the season.
But somehow Mike had an even more vicious plan, to poison him and take him out for good—but of course he looked at you, with cautious hands held out, “We’re just kidding by the way!” 
To say that you enjoyed yourself this afternoon would be an understatement because, for the first time in forever, it felt as though your social battery wasn’t draining. You would want to spend the rest of the day here in Steve’s living room listening to them talk about their lives and ask you about your mundane one.
But time always went by fast when you were spending it with people who were so fun and carefree, so when you caught the hour on Steve’s clock, you knew you had to get going. 
Everyone gave you a hug, thanking you for stopping by and of course bringing the pie, the same one that they were begging you to bring the next time you would come into Hawkins. And you sure did promise you would. Robin, being the sweet friend she was, attempted to convince you to stay a little while longer, but you knew you had to go, and you’d make it up to her another time—hopefully a girls’ night in the coming weeks. 
Steve was the only one missing from the living room having excused himself to the kitchen a little while earlier to get the dirty dishes done. He even warned everyone to make sure you stayed in your seat and didn’t come in to help him clean up, knowing you would sneak up and try to offer it. After releasing a very tight and giggly hug from Robin, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.
“Steve?” You knocked your fist against the archway, catching his attention as he turned to look over his shoulder. 
“Hey, need something?” He asked, quickly shutting off the faucet and drying his hands on the kitchen towel hanging near the sink. 
You shook your head, gesturing down to your purse slung over your shoulder, “I’m actually heading out now. Gotta get home before rush hour.” 
He stooped dramatically, making you laugh as you offered your most sarcastic yet sincerest apologies for the departure of your presence. 
“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He gestured, leading the way while you waved goodbye to everyone in the living room before following Steve out the front door. 
“Thanks again for letting me come over.” You chirped, with your shoulders coming in shyly.
He waved it off, smiling down at you, “It’s no problem, it was really nice meeting you…I can’t wait to come over to your place.” 
“I’m looking forward to it too…I just don’t know if I’ll be half the host that you were.” 
“Don’t, you’re gonna be fine. Drive safe alright?” 
You brushed your hair back behind your ear, nodding as you smiled once more, “I will, see you around Steve.” 
Your arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around his neck, hugging him ardently. Even if you were wearing his clothes, smothered in the scent of his detergent and him, his senses were filled with you.
A bright vanilla aroma coming from you, and with your hair blowing in his face, he could help but drown in it, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to hug you like this. 
But alas, he had to let go, his large hands giving your shoulders a warm one over before finally pulling away and seeing your smiley face. 
He stood by the porch, watching as you got into your car, taking note of every little detail of your movements.
Placing your purse in the passengers and checking the contents making sure you didn’t leave anything behind buckling in. You checked your mirrors while twirling the ends of your hair between your fingers, securing the locks against your back and the chair. After a few seconds, he could hear the gear change and watched as you twiddle your fingers upon the steering wheel, waving one last goodbye as you reversed out of his driveway. 
“See ya…” He mouthed, with a tight smile, waving before you drove off. 
The distance between Hawkins and Roane Country was almost an hour, which gave you a lot of time to think about today and especially wonder about Steve Harrington.
Honest to God, every time you’d catch him in your peripheral, beaming and nodding along at your conversations, you found yourself almost tumbling over your words. He was that distracting, in the best way possible.
There was something endearing about him, perhaps his ability to read your social cues or maybe the fact that he actually showed interest in you and whatever you were talking about. Even if he didn’t get it, you could tell he was listening intently, eyes following you wherever your hands and sights drifted, like a willow bending right to the wind.
You wished you had the guts to strike up a conversation with him in front of everyone else, but you were sure that if you did everyone would take note of how your shyness reached a whole other level with a pretty guy sitting in front of you. Steve was easy to talk to, but you didn’t know if you were easy to react when it came to anything he said.
His words. His smile. His laughter.
All of it trickled with a honey so sweet that it made your stomach ache and blood rush hot. A feeling that was so foreign after all of this time, yet you couldn’t help but want more. To get to talk to him, even if it was just him insulting your ex with low blows because he deserved it.
But his raw emotions. Him letting his guard down. His thoughtfulness.
It exuded the warmth of freshly ground cinnamon, something that had layers to it. Like a punch in the gut that surprised you in a way that was too profound to explain further. He didn’t even hesitate telling you about his parents and how troubling it felt to be given so much from them yet so little at the same time.
It felt like you were throwing a bunch of colors onto a canvas, not knowing where this was headed, maybe off a cliff or down a dead-end street. Or maybe back home with you where everything would be bliss. You could never really tell.
With Steve, it felt different, very complicated.
Perhaps you were getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, his actions weren’t too far fetched from the others who made you feel just as comfortable and made you laugh just as hard. Yet you didn’t feel this way towards Eddie or Robin and definitely not towards Nancy and Jonathan. 
But feelings like these oftentimes just over complicated things, like this very moment right now where you shouldn’t be contemplating this in the first place.
It was too soon to ever know and you could bank on it being counterfeit. Something you’d look back on and laugh at because maybe it was better off with you and Steve being friends, just like everyone else. Nothing more, nothing less, just friends.
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The afternoon glow cascaded your kitchen, a soft ochre hue bouncing off your window pane and showering your body in the warmth. Stevie Nicks’ voice sang through the space on your radio while you stirred the florals in the boiling water.
A few knocks echoed through your door, accompanied by various voices that grew louder. Looking over at the time on the microwave, it read “3:12p.m.” in bright neon green lights. 
They were on time. 
“Coming!” you shrieked out, cutting the music and lowering the heat on the stove before you walked over the door, undoing the latch and twisting the lock open.
With a wide grin, you stretched the door open, and their chatter subsided, turning their attention towards you, their eyes glittering with anticipation. 
Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most lavish, but it was undeniably you. Just from the front door alone, your personality was oozing among the space—plants were displayed on a shelf near the door alongside a handmade pottery bowl for keys and small belongings that rested on a small table. 
Straight ahead was your kitchen just as personalized as the entrance. The counters complimented with a delicate flower-patterned backsplash along with wooden cabinets you had stained to wash out the unpleasant color that came with the place originally.
It was so very much you.
“Come in! Come in!” You ushered them with animated welcoming arms. 
The teens stepped through first, peering around as they traveled further into your home. Your living room another lively space with an olive green couch and swinging chair you splurged on and surprisingly hung all by yourself. And of course, unfinished and half-painted canvases decked the walls.
You met cheek to cheek with Robin and Nancy, the same fond welcome you had gotten accustomed to giving to your lady friends. Eddie and Jonathan took you in for a side hug, giving you a smile.
Steve was the last one to enter with a vase carrying a blend of lively flowers in one of his hands. He wore a striped polo, one of the many that you saw hanging in his closet, a pair of blue jeans, Nike’s Cortez’ that was totally his style, and of course his world famous smile.
“I’m so glad you made it.” You murmured, opening your arms as he walked into you and wrapped his arms snuggly across your back.
You squeeze your arms around him affectionately, inhaling the subtle aroma of mint and sandalwood that he wore. Something that you became familiar with since your last interaction where he walked you out to your car and said goodbye to you in the same way he was saying hello. 
Of course, Steve had made it. There was no way he was going to miss it. Not after you graced his home with your presence. If anything, Steve was the one who rushed everyone into Eddie’s van to get here on time to see you.
He looked down at you, seeing your eyes flutter open as you both released the hug, yet never stepped back to open the proximity.
“Been looking forward to it all week,” he brought the hand holding the vase up, prompting them towards you with a grin, “…and these are for you.”
You let go, wrapping your fingertips around the glass, admiring the blues, pinks, whites, and greens of the arrangements. Summer flowers, the kind that bloom the entire season before spring comes along and cuts their time too short before winter arrives.
You had been busy for the past couple of weeks that you didn’t even realize that you had forgotten to take a trip to your local florist to pick up some of your favorites, nevertheless Steve’s would suffice.
Closing your eyes, you breathed in the citrusy sweet fragrance from the baby pink peonies in the bunch, then you opened them back up, orbs filled with gratitude as you stared at him.
“Steve, these are beautiful. Thank you!”
He shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Unfortunately, none of us are good bakers, so I’m glad you like it.” 
Laughing, you gestured him towards the living room where everyone had already gotten themselves comfortable, while you made a quick pit stop towards the kitchen to place the flowers on the windowsill to get some sunshine. 
Making your way back to everyone you saw Nancy and Jonathan sat on the couch looking worriedly at the teens, “Guys, don’t break anything!”
They both warned in unison, watching as the youngsters made a beeline to the comics and magazines you had lying around on the coffee table. 
“No worries, I break something like every other day in here. Totally klutz!” You assured her with a wave, seeing her take a sigh of relief and Jonathan sending you a gracious nod.
“This place is cooler than you described!” Robin blurted, fidgeting her fingertips against each other as she continued to look around trying to spot some things that she remembered you telling her about over the phone. 
Striding towards the cluttered coffee table, you noticed the kids not having much space to flip the books and magazines. You had spent the entire morning doing laundry and touching up a painting for your upcoming gallery that you had skipped cleaning the mess up before they had arrived. 
You apologized, moving to pick up some paint bottles you had lying around “Sorry it’s a little messy…I was busy all morning,” placing them back in their designated bin underneath the table, while they waved you off, not bothered by the mess at all. 
“Did you paint this today?” Will sought, setting down the comic and shuffling towards the easel where a semi-wet canvas laid. 
You nodded, walking over and standing next to the piece, and holding your hands behind your back shyly.
“It’s supposed to look like the sunset from a few days ago.” 
The sky filled with purple, orange, and yellow tinges to encapsulate the sundown you caught on the drive back to Roane from Hawkins.
“Did you use a photo as a reference?” Mike inquired, squinting his eyes to really take in the detail of the sky and hues used. 
You shook your head, knocking your temple with your finger, “I have a really good photographic memory…once I see something I can usually replicate it when my brush hits the canvas.” 
“How fascinating.” Will murmured, allowing himself to walk along the walls, looking at all your other paintings you had hanging up. 
You clasped your hands together, a genuine sense of respite washing over you as you noticed everyone appearing at ease.
Robin was completely in her own world, fascinated with your overflowing vinyl collection that littered your tv stand.
Nancy and Jonathan were talking softly amongst themselves, smiling as they pointed and admired parts of your apartment, hoping they could have their own one day.
Eddie had taken a seat on the floor, back resting on the couch cushions as he flipped through a comic he picked up.
Steve looked to be just as comfortable, swinging slightly in the hanging chair admiring everyone else, happy that his friends were comfortable in the new space.
You clapped your hands together faintly, just enough for yourself to hear the celebration, “Just feel free to look around! I have a patio over there, but there’s nothing much out there except plants and a little table.”
They looked up to where your finger pointed at the sliding door on the other side of the living room, a cream meshed curtain pulled back to let in the natural sunlight. 
Then, you turned your attention to Eddie, bending down a bit to tap his shoulder and point again at the terrace outside, “Eddie, I put out a small glass dish out there if you wanted to take a smoke, just in case.”
You noticed that he had excused himself to Steve’s backyard in order to take a smoke break, so you figured you get that set up for him just in case.
He flashed you a sincere smile, nodding “Thank you,”
You nodded, patting his shoulder before standing straight and excusing yourself to the kitchen to get things prepared.
Steve didn’t quite know if he was more so appreciating his friends finally opening up to a new place that wasn’t his own or seeing you being so welcoming to people you only met a few days ago. Nevertheless, it felt nice, a little warm feeling inside to know that you were so kind and open to them.
He also didn’t know if it made him a weirdo for wanting to stray wherever you went, getting up to follow you into the kitchen just to get a chance to talk to you without the lingering ears of his friends.
You stood there with one hand on your hip and the other stirring some mixture in the pot before turning off the heat completely.
“What’s this?” his soft voice whispered over your shoulder, producing you to bounce slightly before glancing back. 
He had a small apologetic smile on his face, almost like a wince.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve said as you shook your head, lips curled into a grin when you turned back to stir the liquid. 
“Lavender and mint.” You bubbled, drawing the saucepan off the stove and holding it out, just enough to get a sniff of the aroma. 
His hand cupped together in the air, wafting the sweet steam towards him, “And it’s tea?” 
“Yeah!…Or you could refrigerate it and make it into lemonade, though I should’ve done this hours ago so that I could…you don’t think it’s too hot for tea do you?” 
Your forehead scrunched up in woe, setting the pot back down and reaching to slide the window in front of you open. Sticking your hand out, you flipped it back and forth, trying to feel the air and its warmth. 
It was totally warm out, but Steve wouldn’t let you know that. He just shook his head, following your actions and sticking his hand out to feel the air, “No, it’s like the perfect weather…I could go for some tea.” 
You looked toward him, giving him a sickly sweet smile as you turned to the opposite side of the kitchen, heading into one of the cupboards to grab mugs. 
“Let me help you.” Steve offered, taking the ones from your hand with ease and placing them onto the counter. 
He didn’t allow you to grab the other seven remaining mugs, as he did it himself, lining them up perfectly so it would be easier to pour and serve. 
“Do you like milk in your tea?” You questioned, padding over to the fridge and seizing every bottle of milk you had. 
He thought for a second, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to recall a memory, but he was sure that the last time he had milk and tea was when he attended one of his father's boring business conferences when he was a child.
“I’ve never tried it, is it any good?” Steve asked, leaning against the counter’s edge to watch you clutch the mason jars against your chest. 
You smiled with a nod, fingers holding up one of the glass jars you had labeled, “almond” before placing them all right next to the mugs. 
“You make your own milk?” He looked surprised, picking up the jar and inspecting the liquids that looked store-bought. 
“It’s super easy and because it doesn’t take my time I just make a new glass every week.” You told him as you waltzed over to the boiler, picking up the pot before cautiously pouring a serving into each mug. 
He watched you closely, noting how you bit your lip in concentration, making sure each mug got the same amount of tea, not wanting anyone to have less or too much than they wanted. You smiled to yourself, eventually letting go of your bottom lip when the last mug was filled perfectly, spinning around in your sock covered feet to place the remaining liquid back on the stove.
He did his best to hide his smile, endeared with your behavior for something as simple as pouring some tea. You rubbed your hands together, finally turning back to him and nodding your chin at the mugs.
“You should get the first taste!”
“You sure?” He asked, already reaching for the ridiculously adorable strawberry mug that you usually always drank out of. 
You giggled, bowing your head as he finally took a sip. His lips smacked against each other to search the flavor profile in an attempt to impress you with the enhanced taste buds that he clearly didn’t possess, but somehow he was still able to make you laugh, which was enough.
“It’s sweet but still a little minty—what milk do you usually go for?” He sat his cup down, fingers brushing over the jars, looking over the different milks you had. 
Oat. Almond. Cashew. 
“Oat, it’s the most neutral out of all of them and doesn’t disturb the flavor, in my opinion.” You responded, letting your elbow rest onto the counter to place your chin in your palm.
You watched him crack open the jar, pouring a tiny bit into his cup before looking at you, silently asking if it was enough. The jutting of your chin and smile prompted him to pour a little more, just until you squeaked and you both laughed before he sealed the jar shut.
The two of you watched the milk flow over the once sheer lilac brew as if it was going to stir itself. Only remembering now, you gasped dramatically, moving up to pull open the drawers on the opposite side of the kitchen in order to grab a handful of spoons.
“Sorry, I totally forgot!” You apologized, handing one to Steve as he snickered, shaking his head while he stirred his drink. 
“Don’t have to apologize. You’re too nice of a host already.” He encouraged you, taking another sip of the tea and giving you wide eyes when it rushed down his larynx. 
“Holy shit…this is good!” He said surprisingly, as you smirked, moving towards him to make yourself a cup. 
Your fingers grabbed onto the vintage basketball mug before pouring in your own splash of oat milk. “Oh! I forgot to mention, I like to add honey sometimes. Do you wanna try?” 
You tiptoed, attempting to grab the bear shaped bottle of honey, and Steve had easily raised his arm up, clutching it for you. 
“Thank you.” You whispered softly, taking it from him.
Steve was just happy to help, beaming warmly and watching you squeeze a tiny bit of honey into your cup and he happily did the same when you passed him the bottle. 
You both took a sip at the same time, smiling tightly as you watched each other before swallowing. It was silly. So the two of you chuckled. Shaking your head at how silly it was. 
“I didn’t mean to stare at you while you…sorry, that was weird of me.” You palmed your forehead dumbly, closing your eyes with a slight smile as Steve chuckled and hummed something that sounded like a “no” as he took another sip of the sweetness.
He shook his head, waving your worries away as he kept his hand on the handle of the mug when the other came down to rest on his hip, “I didn’t mean to stare either…I just didn’t want to look away from your tea-drinking skills.”
You cocked your head to the side, letting both sets of hands wrap around your warm mug as you rose a brow at him.
“My tea drinking skills?”
He smirked, nodding confidently, “Yeah, you know it’s a real art to not spill all over yourself. People do it all the time.”
There was a playful look coating your features, your eyes squinting shut as the smile took over before your laugh, shaking your head ridiculously at him.
“You’re impressed way too easily, Steve.”
Maybe it was the fact that you both were sipping tea in the middle of summer or perhaps the airflow in your kitchen was poor, but either way it didn’t take much for you both to notice the fervor that developed. You two were only inches apart. The space could be closed just by one sway towards each other’s bodies.
The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, watching you take another sip as you tore your eyes away with the heat rushing to the apples of your cheeks. You looked pretty like this; he was sure you always did, but something about you here in your own kitchen surrounded by everything that was you felt just about right.
“I can’t help it…” You snapped your eyes back up at him, seeing him lift his shoulder with a placid grin on his face as he spoke.
“I’m always going to be impressed when it comes to you. Even when it’s just tea and a pretty—”
“What’s this!?”
The two of you jerked your eyes to Robin, leading the rest of the pact behind her into your kitchen. You swore he was just about to call you a pretty girl, certain even, but there were a million things he could’ve said.
Pretty mug.
Pretty kitchen.
Pretty apartment.
Pretty girl.
Pretty you.
No! He wasn’t. There was no way.
You quickly leaned off the counter, gesturing to them as Steve scooted over to make way for everyone else. They all picked up a mug, conversing amongst each other as they began drinking and popping open the milk and honey, serving themselves.
“It’s Lavender mint tea! I also have homemade oak, almond, and cashew milk so hopefully none of you are allergic…but if you want, I could run to the store and pick up some whole milk, it’s only down the road anyway so it won’t be long—“ 
Steve could sense the anxiety in your ramble, unsure if it was because of him and the line he had casted out towards you, or maybe because of the sudden intrusion of his friends that made it feel like you two had been caught when in actuality you both weren’t doing anything wrong.
Steve halted the jabber, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder as everyone helped themselves to the tea, not aware of what you had been saying.
“None of them are allergic, so you’re fine…don’t need to go all out for some kids from Hawkins,” he looked around at his friends who were too busy to care, “everything you’re doing is perfect.” 
You clutched the mug in your hands, taking a sip again feeling your heart thump at his words. You didn’t understand what sorcery was going on, but you did know that Steve Harrington had a way with words and every sweet thing that left his lips made you feel like you were floating. 
Steve swore that he could see a pink blush creeping onto your face, but the mug you had tilted closer to your face hid it. It was cute; he didn’t know why you took so weirdly to compliments. It was something that he noticed right off the bat when you two first met. The way that if anyone said something nice about you, you felt the need to downplay it or not respond at all.
But Steve would keep complimenting you because you truly were someone that deserved to know their worth. So he smiled, continuing to watch the way you tried to hide your blush, while he sipped on his tea. 
Robin wasn’t clueless to the two of you, sure she didn’t have the best timing, but she could read the both of you. The way you and he would stare at each other for too long and even how you’d both stray to each other if the other ran off somewhere else.
She knew where this was going.
Coughing lightly to clear her throat, she tapped you on the shoulder.
“Do you mind showing me the bathroom?” 
You nodded, a tight smile on your face as you brushed past Steve, but not without your arms grazing before you led her out of the kitchen and into the opposite hallway where your bedroom and the bathroom was. 
“It’s in here,” reaching forward and twisting the door open to reveal the bathroom. 
Robin smirked wickedly, seizing one of your arms and pulling you into the restroom before shutting the door. 
You shrieked and snorted all in one, startled at her action and trying to steady the mug in your hand so you didn’t spill any.
“Robs!” 
She pressed her back against the door, a woozy smile on her face as she widened her eyes at you, “What the hell was that in there?!” 
Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically, “Oh my god, shush, he could hear you! It was nothing!”
Robin laughed, as you tugged her a ways bit from the door, hoping that no one, and especially Steve, didn't hear the conversation that was happening inside here. She opted to close the toilet lid, sitting on top of it while you leaned against the counter, still sipping on your tea to avoid talking about this, but Robin seemed to have no plans to stop. 
“It didn’t look like nothing! You guys were like milliliters apart, and his eyes were all dreamy and full of stars when he was staring at you!”
Her hands twiddled around in the air, trying to show you what she meant, and you knew exactly what she meant because you saw his orbs in the same light. Like an ocean of stars and glitter every time he had his eyes on you long enough for you to catch it—to make a wish on them.
“His eyes are always dreamy.” You countered out loud, instantly regretting that statement as Robin clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal. 
You bit back a smile, turning your head the other way so she couldn’t see the way you were absolutely blushing out of your mind.  
“I knew it! I could feel the tension in that kitchen and I just knew it! And the other day? You two just couldn’t stop looking at each other. You guys are totally crushing and are gonna fall in love!”
God, you couldn’t even remember when’s the last time you actually had a crush on someone attainable. All the guys you liked were fictional, from books, tv shows, and movies, because at least those guys were mesmerizing and actually respectable people. But Steve felt like that too, that one out of a million that you could actually see and have the privilege of being around let alone talking to.
He was so out of your league, there was no possible way he could’ve meant what he was going to say as a genuine romantic compliment. He was just being friendly. Just being the same Steve that Robin described to you before you had even met him. The same Steve who graciously covered for you when you didn’t want to talk about your asshole ex boyfriend.
The Steve that had you thinking about him on your drive back home wishing you were watching the sunset with him—
You heard the snap of her fingers, before feeling her stand up and make her way in front of you where she stood and clutched your shoulders, causing you to look at her. Shaking your head, you sighed heavily, finally prompting her a response after those grueling composing seconds.
“He’s just nice, Robin, and I’m sure he’s being kind because we just met. I barely know him! You said it yourself, remember? Steve’s a nice guy.” You said seriously, setting down your mug on the open counter space as she pouted and shook her head. 
“No, I mean yeah, Steve is nice, but he’s being abnormally kind to you. The kind of kindness where it’s all sappy and lovey. It kinda makes me want to throw up, but also makes me want to kick my legs like an idiot because seeing him this way after all this time is actually nice.”
She explained with a complicated look that quickly turned into smiles and fondness, realizing that Steve was actually putting himself out there and you just were too foreign to it all. She watched as you took another deep breath, letting your shoulders stoop against her hold as you held your head in your hands.
“I stood there like an idiot Robs. He said something really nice to me and I…I just stood there! Gosh, he probably thinks I'm totally dumbass or something.” 
She scoffed, shaking her head, giving your skin an encouraging squeeze when you finally looked up at her.
“Trust me, Steve doesn’t think you’re an idiot or a dumbass, or anything bad. He's genuinely so enthralled by you. And this is the same guy whose attention span is shorter than mine, so that’s saying quite a lot if, after the first hangout he’s already asking more about you.”
Your eyebrows curled into a frown before raising curiously, silently asking Robin to tell you what she meant before she licked her lips, eyes darting around the bathroom trying to pick one out of the many scenarios where Steve had asked about you.
“Umm, okay, this one!” She decided confidently, nodding her head and furrowing her brows roughly to mimic Steve earlier this morning at the florist.
“Which flowers do you think she likes best? She’s like super into florals, right? Is she allergic to anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to show up with flowers that she’s allergic to. That’s like fucking embarrassing Robs. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna pick the prettiest flowers and hope she doesn’t end up sneezing or anything.”
You snickered at her impression of Steve’s voice and mannerisms, feeling your heart swarm as you thought it was pretty sweet that he was taking the time to ask about you, let alone think about putting in so much effort into those flowers he had brought for you.
“That’s actually really adorable,” you admitted, while Robin smiled and tilted her head, watching you thoughtfully. 
She removed her grip for your shoulders, hands softly clapped while she shrieked while you rolled your eyes playfully at her delight. “See! I’m like cupid or something! Just yennooo…try throwing out a compliment and if it feels weird or wrong, then you’ll know. But I think we both know how it’s gonna go!” 
“Sure cupid,” You rolled your eyes lovingly before going deep again, “I just don’t want to mess things up, alright? If somehow we’re both reading this wrong, I don’t want to lose him as a friend. It’s gonna put me in an awkward position if he doesn’t feel the same, so just for my sake, let’s just keep this conversation between us?”
You held out your pinky finger towards her, where she immediately crossed her fingers over her heart and proceeded to hook her pinky with yours. 
“Promise!” she vowed, kissing her thumb as you giggled and did the same to yours. 
When you two unhooked fingers, she crossed her arms and looked back at the toilet then at you, “I still really gotta pee, so…” 
You tsked, chuckling lightly as you picked up your mug and gave her a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom to give her some privacy. When you walked down the hallway back into your living room, everyone looked relaxed, sitting on the couch or just hanging around the floor enjoying their cups of homemade tea while they talked amongst themselves. 
Steve was in his previous seat, rocking back and forth in the hanging chair still nursing his lavender mint tea. When you came into view, he flashed you a smile, almost a questioning one, asking if everything was alright considering you were just in the bathroom with his best friend for quite some time. You assured him a nod and a small curl of your lips, ushering him to nod back.
That god he didn’t seem phased by the previous kitchen interaction.
“What’s that?” You requested, settling on the carpeted floor where Will and the rest of the teenagers were sitting near the coffee table flipping through a book. 
Will glanced over with a shrug, sliding the book towards you, giving you a chance to see the art that covered the pages. You were amazed, setting down your mug and pulling the book closer as you looked into each stroke of the pencil and all the shading. 
“Will, these are beautiful.” You nudged him casually with your elbow, making him smile, while he watched you flip through the next few pages where more illustrations filled the sheet. 
One of the pages that caught your eye was a figure, one dressed in a cloak with a pointy wizard hat, and it looked a bit like Will. Maybe a self-portrait of some kind for that fantasy game he and the boys played.
“They’re not as good as yours, but I wanted to bring it so I could show you what I’ve been working on.” He told you, while you frowned and reached to rest your hand onto his, giving it a squeeze. 
“No, these are amazing. I mean, this is just incredible…when I was your age all I could draw were stick figures.” 
The laugh that Will let out made you smile and so did the reinforcing words coming from his friends, egging him on and telling him how awesome all of his sketches were. You knew that art was subjective, and even when you yourself were hard on the work that you made, you also had to find it within yourself to be kind.
And you wanted Will to feel the same way, because he truly had a talent for art and you wished you had someone when you were younger who encouraged you to pursue it sooner. 
“I actually have a bunch of spare paints and brushes, and other supplies that you can take home.” You told him.
Shifting to your knees as you began reaching under the coffee table where some storage bins were located, filled with some paints you hadn’t yet used. You began pulling them out one by one, setting them on the coffee table and talking to Will about each of the brands and colors.
From Steve’s place, he could see more of you than Will whose back was facing him. He saw the way your nose crinkled distastefully as you expressed your dislike of certain paint brands because of the opacity and smell. Then how quickly the look of disgust was replaced by a bark of hilarity as Will told you something about his mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee to battle the horrible smell of some of the paints he used.
Steve hoped it didn’t make him a creep for always watching you, but it was out of admiration than it was out of flirtation. He preferred watching you because there was a way about you—an ease, almost one that even yourself didn’t quite notice, but he did.
To him, the best way to describe the feeling he got around you was almost like a secret garden.
One filled with every kind of flower blooming under the radiating sun. Trees growing so tall with birds settling on the stretching branches. The air the perfect kind of cool where bees and butterflies pass through as they soar through the sky. A calm waterfall trickling into a pond that calls out to everyone to jump in freely.
For Steve, it’s like jumping in and getting lost in you…exactly as he’s doing right now.
In simpler terms, people gravitated towards you, not solely for your sweetness or kindness, but for how genuine you actually were.
Even in Steve’s own experiences, he knew he was guilty of just nodding along and pretending to understand what any of the teens were talking to him about.
Video games. Computers. Poetry. Skateboarding. Dungeons and Dragons. Painting. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Crushes. Whatever it was; just going in one ear and out the other while they kept talking and talking and talking.
But not you.
If anything, you immersed yourself into their world even when it wasn’t something that you could fully wrap your head around like that fantasy game. Yet you never failed to ask questions in order to learn more about it, but it was mostly because you loved to see their faced light up when talking about something that they enjoyed without needing to worry about sounding nerdy.
He wished he could talk to you about anything, and he knew he could, but just not right now. Not with everyone sitting here when all he wanted to do was tell you how down to earth you were and how it was even impossible for you to be real.
But indeed real you were meeting his eyes for only a split second before you turned it all back to Will as he spoke.
“Do you think I could try to paint something?” Will asked you timidly, almost anxious of being a nuance, but you bubbled out an excited yelp, scrambling to your feet as you rushed to your bedroom in order to grab a blank canvas that you were sure you weren’t going to use. 
“Where is it?” You puffed, hauling open your closet door in hopes of you finding it in some bin that you stored all your excess supplies in. 
A knock sounded on the doorway wall, prompting you to call out a reply instead of actually looking at who it was, just assuming that it was Will or one of the other kids. 
“Need any help?” 
Steve’s voice had you ceasing all movements, encouraging you to take a deep breath and realize that the whole kitchen thing was over. Right now, you needed to get it together and not make things weird. You exhaled softly, peeping back from behind your closet to see him leaning against your door frame with a small smile before you nodded. 
“It’s so bare in here.”
He joked, looking around the room where the only piece of artwork hanging was one above your bed. A total lunar eclipse with its blood-red moon shining bright against a dark sky with tiny stars scatters around it. 
You gasped subsequently, finding the smaller canvas and standing up from the ground, “I like that my bedroom is sorta away from all the chaos out there.”
Your hands motioned to the outside of the door, making circles and rolling your eyes, as if the living room was such a chaotic mess, when it really wasn’t. He chuckled, shaking his head before raising his brow at you.
“Anything else we need?” 
Yeah, some fucking composure, Steve, because now I’m thinking of a compliment to spit out so we can get a feel of whatever the fuck we have going on.
You nodded, dropping the canvas on your bed and strolling over to the bottom drawers of your dresser where more supplies were stored.
“Yeah, some new brushes and a paint pallet for him.”
He watched you, totally oblivious of your nerves and instead in awe of how considerate you were being, by lending Will new items rather than just letting him borrow what you already had. 
“You’re going to spoil the kid rotten.” He quipped, seeing as you couldn’t pick between two different shades of blue paint tubes and instead, just threw both of them into the pile you were amassing for Will. 
You looked up, looking as innocent as ever and shaking your head, more than happy to spoil the kid.
“These have just been sitting here waiting to be used and Will will probably use it more than I ever will.” 
He chuckled, coming down beside you, kneeling on the floor to help gather the paint tubes in his hands knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry it all by yourself. Your fingers brushed each other as you both grabbed a few, eyes flickering up to each other with a quiet laugh, continuing on before he spoke just as delicately.
“You’re really too sweet.” 
Now’s the opening…just be smooth and throw it out there.
“I’d like to think I am,” you replied, snickering to yourself, when on the inside you were screaming.
He looked to you, seeing as though you tried to brush it off, “No, really, I mean it, you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met…no one has ever put this much thought into a hang out before.” 
You looked almost smitten under his gaze, tucking your cheek into your shoulder and trying to play it off as a shrug despite the smile he could see seeping upon your face. He found it cute. Though he didn’t know why you tried to hide it, he wanted to make you smile and make you feel good about yourself. 
“You really think so?” You asked unabashedly, following his head nod with a grin. 
“I’d go as far as saying you’re the sweetest girl I think I’ll ever meet.” 
Play it cool.
“You must not have met many girls then?” You stood up, hearing his chuckle as he followed your lead. 
“Don’t really want to meet any other ones anymore.” He countered. 
Strike and get a feel of it.
You grabbed the canvas off your bed as you swooped by. “Robin wasn’t kidding when she said you were charming.” 
“She said that?” He said comically, and you giggled nodding and walking out of your bedroom with him trailing behind you. 
Throw it out there.
“Yeah, which isn’t totally surprising, considering the fact that you’re pretty sweet yourself.” 
There was a glint of teasing to your voice, not that it was too different from the sweetness that dripped from it regularly, but he could tell there was something more there. He didn’t want to think too hard about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his never-ending questions, so instead he clung to it, hoping he’d get the chance to hear something like that coming from only you ever again. 
“Here you go, Will,” you crooned cheerfully, entering the living room with Steve trailing behind you with the paints. 
Will’s eyes lit up with excitement, sitting up on his knees as you two placed the items on the coffee table. You sat beside him while Steve went back to the chair, watching in on you explaining to Will each of the pigments and their properties.
This time he wasn’t doing a lot of listening, his mind still caught up in your words and if it meant what he thought it did. He was going to call you a pretty girl back in the kitchen, that is before Robin and the rest of the gang had stumbled in to stop him.
Was that compliment supposed to be a response to his?
Was what you said even a compliment?
Of course it was…hell you could’ve you said he  reminded you of a golden retriever and he’d take it with pride and brag to everyone that a pretty girl compared him to a cuddly animal.
But was he just maybe reading into it too much?
You were always dishing out compliments to everyone, saying how great and talented they were, but not with the undertone you had spoken to him with. Perhaps he had misheard you and now he was doing all of this overthinking just to end off at the same place you both started, which was friends.
Just friends.
“Steve, could you come with me and Eddie to the kitchen, please?”
Robin and Eddie both stood, looking at him sharply as they shuffled into the kitchen, signaling for Steve to follow their lead.
He furrowed his brows, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen, “What’s up?” 
“You’re being fucking weird!” Eddie's whisper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. 
Steve looked taken aback, looking at his two friends puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?” 
“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re thinking too hard. What’s the matter?” Robin softly prodded, crossing her arms across her chest. 
“W-what? No, I’m fine…I’m just thinking…” He said, avoiding Robin’s knowing eyes as he looked at Eddie instead.
Eddie rolled his eyes, “You keep following her everywhere, yet you’re not making a move. Everyone in that damn living room can feel the tension between you guys.” 
“There is no tension!” Steve claimed quietly, peering back and making sure you still were laser focused on the painting.
He looked back at his two friends, resting his hands on his hips, “I’m being friendly alright. I want to make her feel comfortable and help out the same way she did. That’s all.” 
Robin threw an unconvinced look his way, before gesturing towards Eddie, “When you met Eddie, you made fun of him for nicknaming his guitar sweetheart, it’s not the same.” 
“Because Eddie isn’t a girl!” Steve argued, only causing Eddie to raise a brow, holding a hand over his heart pretending he had just been wounded. 
“Are you saying I’m ugly, Harrington?” 
“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his temples. 
Robin reached forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her, “Dude…stop thinking so hard about it. If you like her, just be cool about it. Ask her out if you want. I don’t know…j-just do anything besides what you were doing out there because you looked like you were in pain and it was just weird.”
Did he really looked pained?
Steve blinked, trying to process debating if he wanted to ask Robin if he really looked that bad or for some fucking advice to man up and ask you out already. He didn’t know what he was avoiding, knowing that usually if he liked a girl, he’d just go in and take the shot to ask, but with you, he just couldn’t.
There was too much to lose if something went south.
His thinking was cut short by Eddie who began snapping his fingers, pointing victoriously like he and Robin cracked some sort of secret Russian code or something.
“We were right!” He started poking at Robin’s cheek as she grumbled yet bit back a smile.
Eddie pointed towards Steve again, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “What’d I tell you? Harrington is usually so quick to slide on in and ask a girl out and now suddenly he meets a gorgeous down-to-earth-painter-baker-girl and now he’s whipped!”
He drummed his fingers on Robin’s shoulder, making her laugh before turning to her best friend, suddenly bright pink in the cheeks. 
“You must really really like her if you’re not using those god awful pickup lines to make her fall for you.” She said half jokingly. 
Steve shrugged, moving away from the two and instead reached for his tea mug and taking a sip of the now semi-warm liquid. “Maybe…I—I dunno…I just don’t want to rush things because she knows about King Steve and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” 
Robin tilted her head, looking apologetic, “She told you I told her about that?” 
He shook his head, looking at her dully, “No, but she did say you said I was charming, which pretty much gives it away…also you’re such a terrible liar.” 
“Am not!” She gasped, lightly punching him in the arm.
Steve didn’t look so convinced, arguing back without hitting her, “Yeah you are!” 
“Fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie sighed, rocking his head at the two. 
“Is everything ok?” Your cool speech came ringing in the small kitchen, making the three of them stutter, trying to not look so suspicious. 
“Y-yeah, fine! Umm, they were just wondering if you had more tea!” Steve lied, turning his eyes back to Robin and widening them, signaling for her to let go of his shoulders, which she did. 
He made his way over to the stove, peeking into the pot that had only a bit of tea left.
“Oh, I can make some more if you’d like?” You responded, moving further into the kitchen to meet Steve at the stove. 
With your back turned to Robin and Eddie, they both motioned their way out of the space to give him more time with you, but not before shooting him a suggestive wink. 
“Uh, no, no need for that. I’ll just take what’s left…Eddie and Robin have ummm, small bladders! I don’t want them complaining the whole way home later.” 
He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself while you attempted to stifle a laugh reaching for his mug and pouring the rest of the tea into his cup. 
“Here you go,” you said, turning to him with his mug filled.
He flashed you an apologetic smile, saying a quiet “thank you” while you shake it off. 
“Need anything else? A snack?” 
His ears heard you loud and clear, but his eyes were stuck on the living room where Eddie and Robin were wildly gesturing their hands in the air, mouthing, “Just do it!”
For my friends to stop being dumbasses is what he wanted to say, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the two friends and giving his sights back to you. 
“No, this is all. Thanks again.” He reassured you, earning a smile as you both walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room. 
Taking your place between Max and Will who were painting, you were able to get a glimpse of the work they had completed for the short time you were gone. Max had wanted to join in after getting tired of the comic she was reading.
“Oh, this is amazing—shoot, I’m so sorry!” 
You weren’t quite sure why you were here apologizing at the fact that Max had accidentally turned towards you with a paintbrush in her hand, smearing gold all over the front of your shirt, but here you were.
“Shit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” The red head said, clutching a hand over her mouth as you shook your head. 
“No, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. It’s okay, the paint comes off easily in the wash, I’ll go get changed!” You yelped, getting up and jogging down the hallway into your room.
Max turned to Steve, glaring at him.
“Really? Eddie and Robin have small bladders? That’s the best excuse you came up with?” 
He scratched the back of his neck, leaning forward, “W-what?” 
“Max just bought us some time to tell you how weird you’re being.” Lucas smirked, glancing at Max who looked proud of her quick idea.
Dustin snorted in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from his comic, “If you’re gonna keep staring at her and following her around like a minion you might as well as her out!”
“I’m not asking her out on a date with all of you here!” Steve countered, staring at all of his friends like they were insane.
Robin rolled her eyes, looking at Nancy, then him, “You asked Nancy to have six kids that time we went road tripping a few years ago. What difference does that make now?” 
Mike groaned, covering his face in discomfort remembering overhearing that conversation. “I didn’t have to be reminded of my sister hypothetically having six babies with Steve.”
Jonathan snapped his eyes to Nancy who widened her eyes at Robin, “When was this?” He asked. 
Nancy shook her head, brushing him off, “A long time ago, so it doesn’t matter. And they’re right, you and her obviously have chemistry, so why not just stop wasting time and get it over with?”
“No, we don’t,” Steve shook his head, not sounding as convincing as he’d like. 
Nance tilted her head, giving him those doubtful eyes, “Really? Do you actually believe that for one second?”
“You keep following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jonathan admitted, forgetting about the stupid six children thing and saving it for another day, seeing as though Steve really expected that they all couldn’t see right through you and him. 
“Every time I look over at her to see if I’m doing something right, you’re in my peripheral ogling at her like a piece of art.” Will responded, tearing his eyes away from his canvas. 
“It’s kinda cute.” El said with a giddy smile. 
“She’s always smiling at you for some reason.” Max continued. 
“Which is funny considering that you’re not that pretty to look at,” Eddie quipped, earning a scowl from Harrington. 
Robin rolled her eyes at the men’s consistent banter, knowing she had to work fast before you came back out.
“What we’re trying to say is that she clearly likes you and you like her. You can try denying how you feel, but we know how you get when you start crushing on a girl, so don’t think your lying is going to fool any of us.”
She told him, which would've been reassuring, but asking a girl out in front of a crowd of people wasn’t something that sounded like a good time for him or you. It was just going to put you in that sticky spot with all the attention and most likely to say yes to save him the embarrassment.
He couldn’t do that to you.
“Well, I’m still not asking her out with you guys down my throat. Her and I are just friends. I need to get to know her first. Hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is or if she likes sports? These are things I should know before I ask a girl out!”
Who was Steve kidding and when did he start caring about frivolous shit like that? You and him could have nothing in common and still he would fawn over you and snowball this crush into something more. Even going as far to turn himself into Picasso's reincarnation if that would make you like him better. 
“I’m back!” You grinned, sauntering down the corridor sporting none other than a cropped Red Sox t-shirt. 
Steve’s favorite team, of course. 
Eddie grunted, already on the tip of making a subtle note, just to see if he was right.
“Nice shirt, but didn’t they lose—“
“Oh, don’t even get me started! The game was totally rigged and if Buckner didn’t mess up that inning, Boston would’ve taken that championship home.” You said intensely, taking your seat between Max and Will once again. 
Everyone’s eyes turned to Steve’s, watching them muddle with even more affection than before. You were his total dream girl. He knew it, and so did everyone else.
“Everything alright?” You chuckled after the short seconds of silence. 
Grunts and hums came from everybody attempting to not fixate their gaze solely between you and Steve, but it was a bit tough considering the stare that Steve had locked on you. 
“Peachy, just trying to remember that date because it was so memorable, and I wished that someone here would make a move and remember it.”
Robin emphasized her words sharply, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention in order for him to stop staring at you before you caught him.
Eddie joined in, coughing loudly to “clear” his throat only stopping when Steve finally snapped his eyes away from you.
“Yeah, you know what’s so funny about dates is that they mark something special and really help solidly the—“ 
You lifted your eyes from Will’s painting just in time as Steve shook it off the stare.
“October 27th 1986 but the series went from October 18th through the 27th if we want to get specific.” 
Holy fuck. Holy shit. Holy Mother Of God.
“I—I gotta go to the bathroom!” Steve spat out speedily, resting his mug on the cramped coffee table and shooting up. 
You creased your brows together, watching him trudge down the hallway, clumsily, “The first door on your right—“ 
“Right! Yep! Got it!” He called out, reaching for the handle and nearly propelling himself through the door and slamming it shut. 
You tilted your head, letting out a grunt before turning your eyes to Robin, “I—Is he okay?”
She nodded with a broad smile, sitting up from the couch and knocking Eddie’s arm with her elbow, “He’s actually the one with a small bladder so…yenno, when nature calls am I right?” 
“He and the toilet are gonna be awhile, a date if you will,” Eddie snorted, making you choke on a laugh before giving them a slow head nod and turning your attention back to Will and Max. 
This was by the far the longest time Steve had ever spent staring at himself in the mirror for something not related to his looks. This time around, he was staring for another reason, trying to find the Steve within him that would actually pull the trigger and ask you out already. It was clear as day that he liked you. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of it, he knew his feelings.
But he also knew you were worth more than this and more than the old Steve. 
The old Steve could easily swoon you with a pickup line and flirty eyes: the King Steve that you had heard about from Robin. But that wasn’t who Steve was anymore and it sure as hell wasn’t the version of himself he wanted to be when he was with you.
He wanted to be better, to show you that you actually did deserve someone with character within them. Even after all this improvement and trying to actually search for a relationship that consisted of love rather than just sex, he didn’t know if he was good enough for you. If you’d even want to go on a date with him. 
He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a chance. 
But what if all you wanted was to be friends? 
Would that ruin your friendship with Robin? 
Could you possibly imagine yourself ever being friends with her again after her best friend made a pass at you?
He liked you, but he loved Robin and knew this friendship meant a lot to her. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize it because of a crush even if Robin was fully in support of it.
Maybe you and him were supposed to be just friends. 
“Steve! Dude, c’mon we gotta go.” Dustin’s voice came from the outside of the door, knocking firmly against the wood. 
He furrowed his brows, unlocking the door and pulling it open, “Go? Go where? We just got here.” 
Dustin sighed, gesturing back to the living room where you were helping the others clean up, “Nance called home and Mrs. Wheeler said that Holly had an allergic reaction. We gotta get home ASAP!” 
“So why can’t Nancy and Mike go home and we stay?” Steve hissed more harshly than intended. 
The boy shook his head in incredulity, crossing his arms over his chest, “Need I remind you we drove here in Eddie’s van? We all need to leave together or else you’re stranded in Roane, but by the sound of it, you wouldn’t mind at all.” 
Dustin wore a knowing sneer while Steve bit down on his tongue, not really wanting to lash out on the kid who was pointing out the very obvious feelings that he did a horrible job at hiding. 
“C’mon lover boy, we got a hive covered six-year-old who needs the hospital and we gotta house sit for a few hours.” Dustin said, finally patting Steve on the arm before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room. 
He followed closely behind, seeing everyone begin the file out the door where you hugged each of them. 
“I hope everything is ok with your sister! Please, just don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do to help!”
You tightly wrapped your arms around Nance, closing your eyes as you rubbed her back affectionately and heard her murmur a “thank you so much,” before pulling away. 
“Bye! Thanks for having us, again!” Dustin saluted with a toothy grin before you giggled and hugged him. 
Steve was the last one left in the doorway with you, keeping his hands to his side not knowing if he should open up to hug you first or not. 
“Oh! Hold on, don’t go anywhere. I gotta give you something!” You pointed your finger at him and jogged through your apartment into your room, coming out a few seconds later with his yellow pullover folded neatly in your hands. 
You held it out to him, wearing a smile on your face. “I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles. Sorry if it smells like honeysuckle, it’s just the detergent I use!” 
His heart ached even more knowing this thing would smell like you until the next time it’d be washed. Only fueling the crush he had and taking every ounce in his body not to jump at the opportunity to tell you how down to earth you were and how much he’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let him. But instead, he could only muster out a few sentences. 
“T-thanks! I won’t mind at all…and thanks for having us over, even if it was only for a little.” He laughed, watching you shake your head. 
“No, it was really fun having your guys over, and umm, I invited everyone to come to my art gallery this weekend, and it would really mean a lot if you could make it, if you’re free.” You said tenderly, rubbing your hand over your opposite arm watching a smile break on his face. 
He nodded, “I’m free this weekend so I’ll definitely be there.” 
“Thanks! Robin has the directions and whatnot.” You spoke, nodding your head as you both stood there for a second totally forgetting that he had to go until Eddie beeped his horn. 
You snapped out of your stance, instantly apologizing, “Shit, sorry! Okay, I’ll see you!’ 
Steve wasn’t at all prepared for your arms to wrap around his neck, hugging him closely, feeling your breath fan again his skin as he hurriedly draped his arms across your back, squeezing you tight, “Y-yeah! See you then…” 
Pulling away from Steve felt difficult just as hard as it would be knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. It didn’t help that you and him didn’t get to speak as much as you’d like because you really wanted to get to know him more. To ask him about life in Hawkins and how he liked Roane so far.
It just didn’t help that you felt like you crossed a line after telling Steve that he was “pretty sweet himself.” 
Was that too forward of you? 
Maybe it was too corny? 
Did it throw him off? 
It probably did throw him off. It had to have been that. After you replied with that sad excuse of what was supposed to be a compliment, Steve started acting weird. Strolling off to the kitchen with Robin and Eddie, probably telling them all about how you sucked at flirting. Even excusing himself to the bathroom in a haste when he clearly didn’t have to use it.
For a minute, you thought that you really did blow your chances with him, but it all drifted away when you caught the smile and wave that he threw at you from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 
He looked happy, yet sad to be taking off, kinda like how you looked after needing to leave the Harrington house. You just didn’t want to get your hopes up living for something that had a small probable chance of ever coming to life. There was no telling what mood you and Steve would be feeling the next time you saw each other, and you didn’t want to jinx it before it was too late.
You just closed the door, pressing your back against the wood knowing that everything in your system was dying for the moment you and Steve would see each other next.
For now, you’d have to pad across your apartment thinking about him wherever you strayed, wishing he was following close behind like he always was. But he wasn’t.
The only trace he left behind was his scent lingering in the air and the strawberry cup that was yours, but you didn’t mind if it belonged to him now.
Truly, you were screwed, living for the hope of it all.
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a/n: chapter one is here!!! ive been working on this for a while and was actually supposed to make this series only 3 parts but i love it so much (and tumblr is laggy lately) that i wanted to split them up into more parts and ill also be opening my inbox to blurbs for what im coining "glitch universe" very soon!!! i hope you all love this chapter and stick around for the rest!! a big thanks to effie again for helping me proof-read and hyping me up through all this!!!! happy reading to all!!!!! 🍰🍓🧸
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss
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