#Going through the three households I have and checking in on everyone
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juliab00ssims · 9 months ago
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Straud Chapter.23 [Mid Summer 1453]
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Karina: Oh my love, this room is adorable.
Myron: I'm glad you love it, my sweet. kiss Now are you sure we will have twins?
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Karina: I visited Vlad's third wife, Melisande. She used her gifts to check.
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Myron: Double the blessing for this house. I will be making sure your life is filled with riches.
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Karina: Always so sweet to me. Oh, I do feel bad for Vasyl. Living with the two of us and soon two little ones. He will probably go mad.
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Myron: He will be fine, Karina, don't worry so much. You just concentrate on your well-being and feeling the joys of being pampered.
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Myron: Care to hunt with me, my love?
Karina: I always enjoy a good hunt with you
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nickynclark · 5 months ago
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The Psychology of Love and Loathing
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Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Enemies to lovers! 
Word count: 7,584
Warnings: SMUT (18+) no use of y/n, reader goes by 'bunny', discussion of a case (nothing too far from usual Criminal Minds gore), reader has three PhD's (bet you didn't know that), briefly mentions readers mother committing su!cide, mentions of toxic parents, alcohol consumption, jealous! Reader, jealous! Reid, pet names (good girl, silly girl, baby, sweetheart, sweet thing), degradation, oral f! Receiving, like one line of oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it before you tap it), no mention of reader being on birth control, anal play, overstimulation, after care. If i missed anything let me know!
Author’s note: i’m so sorry im ovulating. This is porn w a shit ton of plot. We’re talkin WORLD BUILDING
MDNI BELOW THE CUT
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You blink at the papers in front of you, checking once, twice, double checking three times to make sure what you're seeing is correct. 
You were on a case in Texas, called in by local police after four bodies, two wealthy couples, were found shot execution-style and posed on different park benches throughout Amarillo. While at first, it seemed as though it was your average serial killer, the autopsy report showed that the gunshot wound was done post-mortem- all four victims were murdered by being forced to drink household bleach. 
You looked down at the papers one more time, noticing that one man, Adam Gilman, cleaned houses of the wealthy, and he purchased a lot of bleach. Way more than needed to clean a few bathrooms. 
You quickly dial Garcia, and she answers within the first ring. 
"Ask and you shall receive." 
"Garcia, what can you find out about Adam Gilman?"
You hear typing from the other end of the line before spewing information, "35-year-old white male, he grew up super rich until his dad pulled his college funding his senior year when his sister went to school to be a doctor. He started paying for her," She suddenly sucked in a breath, "It looks like he had to drop out. He was at Harvard Law. Spiraled downhill from there, sending you the files and address now." 
"Thanks, Garcia!" 
You rush into the room where the rest of the team is and run up to Hotch. 
"Look at this! He fits the profile to a t!" 
Hotch looks down at his tablet, and you feel eyes glance over to you, about to speak, but Spencer Reid bursts through the doors. 
"Guys our unsub is Adam Gilman! He lives five minutes from here, and his job is on the way." 
Hotch nods at you, acknowledging that you have the same information but Reid said it louder, "Let's go." 
Since you joined the Bureau last year, Spencer Reid has been competing with you. Whereas he was thirty-three with three PhDs, you were twenty-five with the same amount. Of course, he got his when he was much younger, but he still seemed to overcompensate. 
He was intimidated by you. 
This wasn't the first time a situation like this had happened. It's almost like he had a radar for when you made a big break, and he wanted to steal the spotlight. 
And not to mention he hates you for some reason. 
Ever since your first week in the BAU, Dr. Reid has acted indifferent to you. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but you have done nothing to deserve this cold shoulder. 
On your first day, you strutted into the office dressed in a pair of black slacks, a black, v-neck blouse, and some hot pink pumps; being honest, you looked like you owned the place. 
When Aaron introduced you to the team, you shook everyone's hand except Reid's. 
"The number of pathogens passed through a handshake is staggering," he stated mater-of-factly while staring at your hand, "it's actually safer to kiss." 
You laugh and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, "Although I appreciate the concern, a handshake is actually a sign of peaceful intentions. Soldiers would cover their swords on their left side and shake their right hand to show they mean no harm," you shrug, "but I understand the mysophobia." 
He nodded at you, a glare suddenly hardening his features, "interesting." 
He has refused to hold conversation with you, maintain eye contact with you, or be in the same room with you for an extended amount of time ever since. 
He hates it the most when you're right. 
After arresting Adam, the team desperately needed to interrogate him. He was denying all claims despite all the evidence against him. In fact, all he has said has been denials. Besides that, he didn't speak. He hadn't asked for a lawyer, hadn't shown any recognition to the couples, and hadn't said anything besides I've never seen those people before.
"We need to make him uncomfortable," Morgan says, "he's running this whole show. We gotta flip the tide." 
Emily looks up from her Chinese takeout, laughing, "Let's throw Bun and Reid in there." 
Your eyes widen, and you are suddenly incredibly red. Your face is on fire, and you start looking around panicked. 
The team started referring to you as 'Bun' over the summer when you all went to a bar together. You accidentally had one too many drinks, and Derek said you were bouncing up and down the whole time. 
"She's like a Bunny." 
"Don't call me a Bunny!" You slur, "I'm mean. And vicious." 
Penelope laughs at you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Alright, Bun. Let's go dance!" 
Ever since that night, the nickname 'bun' stuck. 
Although Emily suggested you and Reid distracting Adam as a joke, Rossi's lips pull into a smile, "That just might work." 
Emily sets her food down, suddenly aware that she presented the first good idea so far, "we could dress them up some, make them look like a wealthy couple, and have them ask Adam some questions. It might make him mad enough to break." 
Aaron looks at you and you gulp subtly, then he looks to Reid, "It's up to you." 
You look at your feet, frowning, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this guy in jail." 
Reid simply nods. 
"Okay," Aaron says, "we'll go get the stuff." 
You and Spencer remain in the small room while the others rush out to get the things you require for your transformation. 
"Hi." Your voice comes out quiet. 
"Hello." He responds blandly. 
You suddenly realize this is the first time you and Reid have been in a room alone together, so you take the opportunity. 
"What have I done to you?" 
Reid's eyebrows shoot up at the confrontation "Huh?" 
You roll your eyes, "ever since my first day you've avoided me. What did I do?" 
He scoffs, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 
"Sure you don't." You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "I'm the only person on the team you practically refuse to talk to." 
"I'm talking to you right now," he says as if that's a counterargument, "I talk to you all the time." 
"Yeah, when you're forced to!" You say exasperatedly, "You know everyone on the team's birthdays, all except mine. You know their family situation because you've asked." 
He shrugs, "I know plenty about you."
"How old am I?" 
He looks into your eyes calmly, "You're twenty-eight." 
"I'm twenty-five." 
Emily suddenly bursts into the room, "There isn't anything for you guys in lost and found. You have to go on a shopping trip. Strauss said a 300 dollar limit." 
You nod, "I assume that's just for clothes?" 
"Yes," She answers, "Reid is going to wear Rossi's watch and a wedding band JJ's going to pick up. Both of you will wear a ring." She then looks to you, "We have a lot of jewelry for you to pick through." 
You nod, standing and Reid rises next to you. 
Emily tosses you some keys, "be back in an hour." 
***
The ride to the mall was quiet. You didn't bother talking to Spencer as you drove, and he didn't bother speaking to you. 
He also kept turning down the radio when you tried to turn it up. It was painfully awkward. 
Once at the mall, you and Reid split up incredibly fast. 
He ran to some men's warehouse, and you rushed to the women's section of a department store. 
You quickly pick up a pair of black pinstriped slacks that hug your curves and a tight, white blouse. You finally grab a black, pinstriped blazer, and you head to check out. 
On your way, though, a pair of stunning, emerald heels grabs your attention. 
You walk closer to study them, and god do they look lavish. 
If you weren't here for work, you would grab them in a heartbeat, but you were, and you had already met your price cap. 
"Buy them." 
You hear Spencer's voice from behind you, and you jump, grabbing your chest in fright.
"What?" 
"Get them," he shrugs, "it's obvious you want to." 
You laugh shyly, and he stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, his bag of clothes hanging around his wrist. 
"I've already met my limit." 
"Okay?"
You frown, studying him. He looks calm and relaxed. You tilt your head slightly, and he matches your movement. 
No, that can't be right. 
You cross your arms in a silent stare down, and he does, too. 
"You're mimicking me." 
He scoffs, "God, Bun, not everything I do is to spite you!" 
Your eyes widen and you suddenly point at him, "You!"
"What?" 
"You just called me Bun!" 
His eyes barely widen, but he catches himself, staring straight ahead. 
His foot stops tapping, "you're hearing things." 
"And that's your tell!" You point at his foot, "You just mimicked me, called me 'Bun', and then lied about it!" 
He rolls his eyes, "what size are you?" 
"You're avoiding the question!" 
"You didn't ask a question." He gestures to the heels, "What size?" 
"Why?" 
"Answer the question, Bunny." 
His tone is stern, and you freeze under his stare. 
"Nine." 
He nods and grabs a box in that size. 
"No!" You protest, "Don't!"
"I still had a hundred bucks left over, it's on the company's card." 
You blink twice, confused as to why he's being so nice to you. 
"Okay. I need to pay and I'm done." 
He nods to you, and you both check out. He hands you the heels and you let out a quiet thanks while headed to the car.
***
When you got back to the station, the turnaround was dizzying. 
You were shoved into a room to change, as was Reid. 
After you changed, JJ came in and whistled. 
"Sheesh, Bun, you look good!" 
You laugh and straighten out your jacket, slipping on the heels Spencer bought you today. 
"Are those new?"
You nod, "yeah, Spencer said he had some left in his budget." 
She shook her head, "Reid must've bought those with his own money." 
Your eyes widen, and she laughs, "C'mon, Bun. You need to look at jewelry." 
You picked out a pair of dainty, diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and several expensive bracelets that had to be physically screwed onto your wrists. 
Once standing in front of Hotch, Emily gave you the wedding bands JJ had picked up. 
Yours was a gorgeous gold band with an emerald-cut diamond on top. It was simple, but, God, was it stunning. 
You slipped it onto your finger and Reid slipped the simple golden band over his, his hands looking all that much better with the ring on it. It makes your mouth water just thinking about his fingers.
You quickly shake your head. No. You hate Spencer Reid. Nothing will change that. 
Hotch gives you and Reid strict instructions on how to talk to Adam, and then he's sending you in. 
"Sell it," Aaron says, "this might be our only shot." 
You give him a curt nod, linking your arm with Reid and smiling as you walk into the interrogation room. 
Spencer looks down at you with a look of passion you've never seen before. One that you aren't convinced could be fake. 
As soon as you looked at Adam, you could tell there was something off. He was picking at the skin around his nails and chewing on the skin of his lips where they looked raw and painful. 
As you sat down in front of him, Spencer was the first to speak. 
"Who is this guy again, babe?" 
You held back the shock in your face at the pet name as he put a hand on your thigh. You made a point to twist the wedding ring on your finger before opening the files in front of you. 
"Adam?" You look up at the man in front of you, "are you Adam?" He nods, and you hum, "Who are you, exactly?" 
Reid smiles and looks to you, "Play nice." He slides the files over to him, "Harvard law, that's impressive. Did you apply or did your father buy your way in?"
Adam's eyes narrowed, "I applied and got accepted. I was a prodigy." 
You smile subtly, knowing you and Reid have already gotten him to show more of himself than he had to anyone else. 
You look at your fake husband and laugh, "I don't think you can decide that you're a prodigy." You look Adam up and down, "my husband, here," you place your hand on Spencer's shoulder, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars, "he is a prodigy. How old were you when you got your first PhD?"
"Seventeen," he laughed humbly, looking at you, "you flatter me." 
You smile softly as Reid squeezes your thigh, something Adam could not see and, therefore, was unnecessary. You look at Spencer, but he refuses to meet your eyes. 
You turn back to Adam, pulling out the photos of the four bodies and showing them to him, "have you met these people before?" 
He shakes his head, "I've never seen those people before." 
"Really?" You ask calmly, "You've never, ever, seen Andrea Haskins?" 
Adam shakes his head. 
"Never, not once, seen her husband, Kent Haskins, either?" 
He shakes his head again. 
Reid sits up straighter, linking his hands together on the table in front of him, "you received a pretty generous amount of money from him every month since... August?" 
You mentally thank Garcia for that information, and mentally thank Reid for remembering it. 
Adam sits up straight, too, but falling shorter than Reid, "I clean their house for them, don't mean I've ever met 'em." 
You hum, "I wouldn't let a stranger into our home, would you?" 
Reid shakes his head, and Adam gets visibly upset at your interactions. His hands clench to the table ledge, knees bouncing, eyes narrowed. 
"Say, Adam," you perk up, "how much bleach do you use per house you clean, about?" 
Adam's eyes trained on me, "you're a smart girl," he then looked to Reid, "with an even smarter husband." He spits the words as if they are poison on his tongue, "You do the math." 
You stand, smiling softly, "So, not 10 gallons per week?" 
Adam shrugs, "If that's your calculation." 
You walk closer to the man, sitting on the table next to him and leaning down to him, "And I assume you also have never met the Coleman's?"
He shakes his head. 
"Never met anyone in the Coleman family?" 
"No. God, you people suck at your job."
"That's actually interesting considering we have video footage of your picking up Lacey Coleman from school last Monday. A family doesn't let a stranger house cleaner pick up their child from school." 
Adam's eyes widen, and you know you have him cornered. 
"How long had your sister been friends with the Colemans?" Reid interjects. 
"Don't you dare talk about her." 
"Why not?" Reid asks simply, "Does she bother you?" 
"I was going to be a Lawyer, I was going to be successful and make my dad proud of me. Until she ruined it all with her perfect schooling and perfect husband," Adam spits.
"Halley is a pretty successful neurosurgeon, huh? She gets all of daddy's special attention, doesn't she?" You say.
"Get your wife on a leash," Adam says to Reid. 
"All you wanted was to feel loved, to hear your dad say he's proud of you," you keep talking, "and you were going to kill him because he wouldn't say it." 
"Shut the hell up, bitch!" 
"You were getting ready to kill your mom and dad because, hey, why not go straight to the source? Why not kill who made you like this?" 
"What if your family pulled your funds for a sibling, huh?" He yells to you and Reid, "How would you feel?" 
The room goes silent and Reid allows you to keep talking, keep getting on his nerves. 
"His daddy left him when his mom got sick, and my mommy killed herself when I was seven. We worked for our degrees, and we worked even harder for the scholarships that paid for our three PhDs." You hiss, "I would've worked harder to get what I want instead of just expecting it." 
"You're a bitch," Adam spit in my face. 
"I could be worse. I could take away a little girl's family. I could kill four innocent people out of my frustration and failure." 
Reid finally stepped in, grabbing your hand softly and pulling you back to your side of the table. 
"I didn't kill those people." 
"That's not what your body is telling us, Adam." Reid states simply, "You are hurt and still are hurting, I understand that. But now so is Lacey. That's on you." 
Adam's lip quivers, "I didn't hurt Lacey! Lacey was at her friend's house!" 
Reid rises, grabs your hand gently, and walks to the door, and you follow.
"Hey!" Adam screams, "where are you going? Get back here!" 
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you let go of Reid's hand. He turns to you and watches your expression shift. 
"Good work, Bun." 
You nod, and he looks like he's about to say something else, mouth opening, but then Hotchner walks in. 
"Great work.” 
You smile at Aaron, and Reid stares at you with something dark behind his eyes. He looks nervous, and hungry, and concerned, and certain. 
"We'll be heading back in 30. Wrap up. Great job, Doctors." 
***
On the plane, you and Reid are still in your "Rich Couple" personas, not having enough time to change out. 
You sit near the back of the plane, headphones in, and reading Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience by William Blake. 
"Little Lamb who made thee, Dost though know who made thee?" 
You hear the words of "The Lamb" spoken, causing you to take out your headphones and look to the source: Spencer Reid. 
He sits across from you as you ask, "You read Blake?" 
"Blake to Poe to Plath, I don't mind." 
You narrow your eyes at him, "what do you want?"
"Really?" He asks, "We can't just have a nice moment?" 
You raise your eyebrows at him, "Not you and me. We don't have nice moments."
His facial features soften, and he sighs, "I'm sorry for acting so harsh toward you. You didn't deserve that." 
You're shocked by his statement, "Pardon me?"
He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I was scared, Bun. I was the smart one. I convinced myself that was all I could be," his breath hitches and his eyes connect with mine, "I thought if there was someone smarter, more sociable, and nicer than me, they wouldn't need me anymore." 
"Spence..." you start, and you realize it's the first time you've called him his nickname. 
He notices it, too, eyes shifting from one of concern to one of understanding, "You're incredibly smart. You're kind, and you're fun to be around. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."
You nodded, "thank you." 
He nods and goes to stand.
"Wait." You quickly speak up and he freezes, "What's... um..." you stutter, "what's your favorite Poe?" 
Reid smiles, sitting back down, "Annabel Lee." 
You smile, "Gold-Bug."
He laughs, "Really?" 
And you nod. 
**** 
"Let's go get drinks!" Garcia announces as you and the team wrap up your paperwork, and you laugh. 
"I don't think so," you smile, "not tonight." 
"C'mon, Bun," Garcia whines "It'll be fun!"
Reid suddenly looked at you, eyes darker, eyes that held you tight in a grip, "Yeah, c'mon, Bun." He says the name with a sensuality you had never heard before. It sent a shiver down your spine, "it'll be fun." 
You look at him, taking in a shaky breath, "I.. uh, don't have a ride." 
"I'll drive you," Reid says simply, and the rest of the team just stares at the interaction. 
Things have changed since the interrogation room, you know that, but did you want to be alone with him already? 
You look at him, his messy hair, his stubble, and chocolate brown eyes, and your pussy clenches around nothing. 
You find yourself nodding, mouth too dry to speak.
"Good," he smiles, "follow me."
Your team watches with uncertainty as you walk off with Spencer, and it's almost like they've seen the change, too. 
No, they're profilers. They know Reid had you wrapped around his finger while reciting Blake. 
They also knew Spencer had been pining after you since you wore those hot pink heels on the first day of work. But they didn't need to tell you that. 
Reid guides you to the elevator, and you comply silently. Once the door closes and it's just you two, you turn to Spencer.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He responds simply.
You turn to face him, "why are you being so nice to me?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bun." 
You roll your eyes, "yeah right." 
The elevator doors open, and he walks you to his car, opening the door for you.
"Thank you," you smile cautiously, and he nods. 
He sits down in the driver's seat and pulls out of his parking spot. One of his hands rests on the wheel, the other placed on the gearshift. His eyes focus on the road, but they occasionally slide over to you. The silence- although comfortable- practically kills you.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" 
He glances over at you, and he smirks, "I want to." 
You look at him, "why?"
He shrugs, "spent too long not doing it." 
You nod and glance out the window, just as Spencer puts the car in park. 
As you step out of the car, you hear Derek and Emily from behind you, making a show of letting you know they are also here. 
You walked over to Morgan and hugged him.
"Hey, Bunny," he smiles and kisses your forehead, "first rounds on me tonight, sweetheart." 
You laugh, "thank god! Need a handsome man to buy me some drinks!"
Reid scoffs from behind you, but you shrug it off, assuming it was about something Emily had said. 
It wasn't. 
As you walk into the bar with Derek's arm around your shoulder, you quickly make your way to the table with Garcia and Rossi. 
"What are you drinking?" You ask Garcia, gesturing to her hot pink drink in front of her, garnished with cotton candy, strawberries on sticks, and a big, twisty straw.
Gracia's eyes widen, "oh my gosh! You've never been here before??" You shake your head, and she squeals with excitement, "Okay, so, it's called the Cotton Candy Chameleon. It's basically strawberry vodka and coconut rum with strawberry soda! Look!" She picks up the cotton candy and places it into the liquid, watching as it rapidly dissolves, "did you see that?!" 
"That's why it's called a Chameleon," Derek laughs, arm still around you, "want me to get you one?" 
You nod happily, "and a shot of Titos? I'll pay you back!" 
Morgan winks at you, "It's on me, Bun." 
As he walks toward the bar, you and Garcia continue to chat about anything and everything, her childhood cat, where you grew up, and how Garcia got put on the team. 
"You were so good at being bad," you laugh, swirling your third Cotton Candy Chameleon that Morgan brought over to you, "that the FBI gave you a job instead of jail time?" 
She nodded, giggling, "Pretty much. Are you going to take that shot?" She points to the round Rossi had bought for the table. 
You laugh, quickly picking it up and downing it, "god!" 
"Woah!" Morgan laughs, hands catching your hips to keep you steady, "careful, Bunny." 
You feel eyes glaring into you, and you trace them to Reid sitting at the bar. He has his elbow on the bar, leaning into his hand as he watches you with a look of unhappiness. 
You roll your eyes, finishing the final chug of your drink, and placing a hand on Morgan's chest. 
"You're warm," you say with a goofy smile, and Derek laughs.
"Oh, really, sweetheart?" 
You nod, leaning further into him as his hands rest on your hips. 
You make eye contact with him before you smirk and push away, "I'm going to get another drink." 
"Hey, Bun!" You turn around to Rossi, his empty glass raised to you, "Get me another old fashioned." 
You nod, smiling at the older man, and waltzing to the bar, right next to Reid. 
"You having fun, Bunny?" He asks, voice low. 
"Yes, sir." You smile, waiting for the bartender to walk over. 
He sucks in a breath at the title, "You sure are touchy with Morgan," he grits out, staring at you, not quite your eyes, but something a little bit lower. 
You scoff, "What's it to you?" 
"Nothing." He spits, eyes connecting with yours, pupils taking over the brown of his eyes. 
The bartender finally comes up to you, a cute girl in a black, low-cut tank top and some black, short shorts. She has short blonde hair, barely reaching her shoulders and it's curled up and pinned back so her hair is framing her face. 
She was gorgeous, actually.
"What can I do for ya?" She asks, shaking a drink before breaking the seal and pouring it into a glass. 
You tell her your order, and that it's on David Rossi's tab, and she nods. 
Then she turns to Spencer, "What about you handsome?" She says it sultry like she's trying to seduce him, "Need another? I'd be happy to get you somethin' else." 
Your eyes narrow on her, a deep, red-hot feeling forming in your gut. She doesn't see your stare though, completely focused on Spencer, leaning over the counter so her cleavage is on full display, biting her lip and twirling her hair. 
You decided then and there that you hated her. 
Reid tells her that he's okay, water if she insists, and when she comes back with his water, she hands him a napkin with ink scribbled on it, "I get off in 45 if you're interested."
"He's not." 
The words come out of your lips faster than you could think, your brain taking longer to catch up with your mouth. 
"Pardon?" She asks you, calm and calculating, "Didn't know you could decide that for him." 
You laugh cockily, "Oh?" You act fast pulling yourself into Reid's lap before he can protest, but his hands wrap around you, trapping you where you sat, "I think I can." 
Reid looked at the bartender, then his eyes trailed back to you, "Sorry, Brooklyn, I'm spoken for," his eyes darkened, a sly smile rising on his lips. 
The bartender walks away to work on your drinks, and you turn all the way to face Reid. 
"What are you doing, Bun?" He asks, voice low. You shift your hips and he hums, grabbing your waist to stop the movement, "Stop that. Talk to me." 
You whimper, leaning into his chest, "You were really going to choose some bottle blonde over me?" Your words come out harsh, but it's also the first time you've said what's truly on your mind in front of Reid.
His eyes land back on Brooklyn, and he smirks, "She's pretty, I'll give her that," he looks down at you, right as the bartender places the drinks in front of you, "But you? You're on a whole different level, Bun." 
You blush and shake your head, just as Brooklyn walks back over to hand you your drinks. 
As she sets them down she says, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were a thing." 
You quickly shake your head, "Don't worry about it," you smile, "neither did he." 
"In my defense," Spencer laughs, his lips close to your ear, "I didn't know you were an option. If I had, there wouldn't have been a competition."
You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck, "yeah, right. You've hated me since I joined the BAU."
His eyes widened, "Hated you?" 
You nod softly, a little confused by the question. 
"Hated isn't the word I would use," He laughed. 
"What is?" You ask quietly. 
He leans his head side to side, as if pondering the best way to answer, "obsessed? Intimidated?" He looked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, "Lusted?" 
Your eyes widened, "what?"
He shrugs, a hand falling to your thigh, thumb drawing circles, "The way you are entrances me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you exist." He leans his head down so his eyes meet yours, "I knew I couldn't do anything about that, so I stayed away. I guess it came off as hatred." 
The hand that wasn't on your leg reached up to pluck the cotton candy off of your drink, opening his mouth and letting the sugar melt on his tongue. 
"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still locked with yours, "so sweet, Bun." 
Your jaw dropped slightly, thighs clenching, and he grips your flesh, "Nuh, uh. What's wrong?" He chuckles as you whine against him, "Use your words." 
You sit up, straightening and sliding off of his lap, "You're a sick freak, Spencer Reid." 
He licked his lips, eyes trailing down your body, "I'll bring Rossi his drink, wait by the door." 
You cross your arms over your chest, but your heart is pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears, "what makes you think I listen to you?" 
"Oh, Bunny," his finger lifts your chin, "I'm a profiler. Absolutely everything tells me that you'll listen to me." 
You roll your eyes and scoff, "And if they ask where we're going?"
A devilish smirk flashes across his lips, and he leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath on your skin, "you already told them you're tired," he pauses, "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, Doctor." 
You suck in a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over as he chuckles, pulling away from you. 
You take a step back, mumbling, "Hurry back." 
He smiles widely, pupils practically taking over his chocolate eyes, "good girl." 
You suck in a breath as he turns on his heel, walking over to the team as you wait by the door. Penelope frowns at you, waving, and Emily blows you a kiss. 
Rossi looks at you calmly, and Derek raises a smooth eyebrow with a smirk. 
Spencer walks back to you, grabbing your arm as you walk to the car.
Once you get back to his black Dodge Challenger, he presses you against the door, “How drunk are you right now?”
“From one to ten?” You ask, voice quiet, Reid looking at you like you’re a meal.
He nods, hands gripping your hips, “Goddamn it, Bun,” he hisses, “Yes, one to ten.”
“Four,” you answer, and his lips slam into yours in a frenzy.
It’s all tongue and teeth like he couldn’t wait a single second longer to taste you. Like it would kill him. 
Your chest arches into his, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for life in the bruising kiss. 
He pulls away, his eyes nearly black, eyes filled with an undeniable hunger, and it makes you shiver. 
A smirk comes over his face as he steps away from you, opening your door, “get in.”
You don’t have to be told twice, stepping into the car, carefully so you don’t fall in the emerald heels he bought you.
With his own money.
“Spencer?”
He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking spot, “Yeah?” 
You look at him, studying how you are both still dressed like a posh-rich couple, “You bought me these heels.” 
He nods, chuckling and placing his hand on your thigh, “Excellent observation.”
You shudder at the contact, “with your own money.” 
He smirks, “Who told you that?”
“JJ?”
“Ah,” he laughs, “Yeah, green’s your color.”
You raise an eyebrow, “How did you decide that?”
“A few weeks ago you wore this emerald green sweater,” he says, “It looked so goddamn good on you.”
You recall the memory, smiling softly, “Is that why you were avoiding me? You thought I looked pretty?”
His voice gets stern, face serious when he looks over at you, “Stop talking, Bun.”
A belly laugh escapes your mouth, head thrown back as you cackle, “I thought I pissed you off somehow!”
He gives your thigh a sharp squeeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely angry with you.”
You sit dumbfounded, a quiet oh slipping past your closed lips. 
He looks at you and parks the car, “I’ve been upset, frustrated, and God have I been irritated with you,” he turns to look at you, pulling his hand away from your leg, “But I have never been angry with you.” 
He unbuckles quickly as you stare at him in surprise, and he gets out of the car, rushing around to open your door, “hurry up.”
You stumble out of the car, and he puts a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his apartment.
You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the chaotic charm of Spencer Reid’s place. As soon as you notice the books piled up everywhere, he spins you around, pressing your back against the door and capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss is slower and more controlled, with his hands sliding up your sides to your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You ball his shirt into your hands, pulling him impossibly closer.
“God, Bun, your fucking intoxicating,” he sighs against your lips, hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare hips, and you sigh at the contact. 
He smirks, trailing wet kisses down your neck, gently grazing his teeth over your pulse point, and you moan, “there she is,” he mumbles, “been wanting to hear you make those pretty little sounds for a while.”
You whimper, “Shut up.”
He laughs, tugging you away from the door, and guiding you into his bedroom. 
You shed off your suit jacket, and he rips your shirt over your head before pushing you down on his mattress. You gasp as you fall, Spencer's hands quickly move to your slacks, unbuttoning them and looking up at you with eyes so fiery you feel your whole body set aflame. 
“Yes,” you say, noticing the silent question Spencer is asking you, “please, yes.” 
He smirks, kissing the skin just above the waistline of your pants before tugging them down, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.
He throws the items into the corner of his room, sitting up and looking at you: dressed in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, his eyes darken. He slides his hands down your body, and he practically growls when he feels your sopping wet cunt.
“God dammit, you’re so wet Bunny,” he says, his finger sliding over the soaked fabric of your panties, “such a silly girl, thinking I could want anyone but you.”
You whimper at the comment, and he leans down to kiss your upper thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart with the palms of his hands. Your legs widen as he settles in, kissing slowly up and around them, licking, sucking, and biting until you’re littered with heart-shaped marks. 
“Gonna show you how much I wanted you,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning over your covered pussy, “gotta let you know how dumb you are for thinking I was anyone’s but yours.”
You whimper shamelessly at the comment, your legs trying to close, desperate for any kind of friction.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Bunny?” he laughs, looking up at you from between your thighs, “You like it when I tell you just how stupid you are? How fuckin’ useless that little brain of yours is?”
You nod rapidly, and Spencer licks a thick stripe over your clothed core. You let out a loud gasp, your head lolling to the side at the much-appreciated attention. He pushes your underwear to the side, diving into your pussy like a man starved. Spencer kitten licks your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking harshly, and your back arches from the bed.
“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, hands shooting into his hair, “so fuckin good, feels so good.”
“Mmm, there you go, baby,” he says, his index finger circling your entrance, “let me know how good I’m doing,” and his finger slowly pushes into you as his mouth reconnects to your hot skin.
Spencer Reid was talented with his tongue, but, god, his fingers were a whole other story.
He curled his finger toward him, finding that sweet, gummy spot inside you almost immediately, abusing it before inserting another and scissoring his fingers.
“You’re so tight,” he mumbles against your cunt, and a loud moan slips from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair as you desperately try to grind against his tongue, but he puts a hand over your stomach, holding you down.
He continues his torment, fingers working you open and his tongue moving rapidly through your folds. His fingers drag down your front wall slowly, and you can’t help his name slipping off of your tongue. 
He smirks, looking up at you, “Atta girl, Bunny. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”
You moan loudly as he continues his torment. Your legs start to shake, his tongue swirling circles around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and one of your hands grabs your breast to ground you. Your breathing gets ragged, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming.
“You gonna cum for me, Bunny?” He asks, voice low, “Gonna cum all over my fingers?”
You nod, and he tsk’s.
“Without asking?” He says, a smirk on his perfect lips, slowing his fingers down and moving to kiss the insides of your thighs, “Not even going to ask after I’ve worked so hard for you?”
You throw your head back with a groan, “Please, Spencer!”
“Please what?”
You consider slapping him, telling him to stop treating you like some desperate slut, but in your current state? You might as well be.
“Please let me cum! I’ve been so good for you, Spence, I’ll be so good!”
“Yeah? You going to be my good girl?” he asks, eyes locking with yours, eyebrows raised, as he speeds up his fingers inside of your spasming pussy, “You promise?”
“Promise! Please, Spence, let me cum for you!”
He pauses for a second like he’s thinking, the smirk on his face growing, “cum for me, Bunny,” and he watches your face, jaw dropped as you orgasm around his fingers, your slick coating his palm and dripping onto the sheets below you as he works you through your bliss.  
Once you come down, though, his fingers don't stop moving, his thumb moving to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “You’ve got another one in you,” he says as you bite your lip and your eyes water slightly, “C’mon, baby, you can give me another, right?”
You nod your head, your lip tugged between your teeth, your legs still shaking. He doesn’t give you time to breathe, just continues to suck and lick on your clit like it’s what he was made for, and, before you know it, your eyes clench shut as you rapidly approach another orgasm.
Little whimpers leave your lips, and Spencer chuckles slightly, “My poor girl, so desperate for me. I can tell you’re getting close again, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he speeds up his pace, your jaw dropping into a silent ‘o’.
He kisses your stomach, holding your shaking legs with his free hand, “Give it to me, Bun.”
And you release with reckless ambition, thighs flung open and a hand gripping the sheets for your life as a string of moans leaves your lips. Spencer removes his fingers and moves down to lick up your come, and you have no choice but to whimper. He smirks and pulls away from your cunt, placing his lips hot on your own, and you taste yourself.
“You’re so sweet, Bunny. Sweeter than candy,” he sighs, hands sliding down your chest.
You whimper, forcing your hands into his hair in another soul-crushing kiss, and he chuckles into it. 
“Desperate for something?” 
And you nod, one hand trailing down the front of his body, grabbing his dick covered by his pants and he groans.
“You want this cock, Baby?” He lifts off of you, sitting with his knees on either side of your body while he quickly undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before deeming it useless and pulling it over his head while your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling off his belt and tugging his pants and boxers down enough to free his aching cock.
You moan at the sight, immediately leaning forward to kiss his tip, before he pushes you back onto the bed. 
“Another time, Bun,” he grumbles, “need to feel you around me.” 
You moan, nodding and lining him up with your quivering pussy, and he pushes forward just slightly, enough for his tip to pop inside of you, and the groan that leaves his lips is pornographic. 
“She’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, can feel her squeezing me.” 
You whimper, “please! More!” 
He chuckles darkly at your request, “yeah? You need something?” 
You roll your hips forward, pushing him in a little further before he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly. 
“Nuh uh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.” 
He emphasizes his words by pulling out slightly, and pushing back in, fucking you with just his tip, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips. 
“Look at you,” he groans, continuing his torturous motions, “so desperate for my cock. Such a nasty little thing.” 
And the thrusts harshly, abruptly sheathing his whole cock inside of you, and your head throws back. 
He has the audacity to laugh at you, quickening his pace, each thrust hitting causing him to hit your cervix in a blissfully painful way, your eyes rolling back, begging for something. You're not quite sure what, though. 
“So fucked out you can't think straight?” He coos, his pace never slowing, “if I knew this was all it took to shut you up I’d have done it a long time ago.” 
And you whine at the thought. 
He raises an eyebrow, “You like that idea, don't you, Bunny?” And you nod. 
Suddenly, he pulls out completely, slapping your thigh again, “Roll over. Hands and knees.” 
You quickly comply, supporting yourself on shaky arms and legs, and he trails a hand up your spine before pushing down, forcing your chest to the bed below you. 
He groans as you arch your back, quickly pushing himself back inside your sopping cunt.,
“Such pretty holes you got here, baby,” he whispers, spitting onto your asshole as one of his thumbs spreads out the lubricant, causing your breath to hitch. 
“Wanna fill both of them for you, can I do that?” 
And you nod recklessly, your head bouncing against the pillows at the speed and power of his thrusts, and he takes your permission to push his thumb into your virgin ass, and the moan that rips through your throat is almost humiliating. 
“You like being so full of me, don't you, Bunny?”
And you groan out, “yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Spencer!” 
He laughs as your cunt starts quivering around his cock, his tip bullying that sweet spot inside of you. 
“I know sweet thing, give it to me. Cum around my cock.” 
With permission, you release around him, your pussy clenched around his dick and your ass squeezing his thumb, but he keeps fucking you through it.
His free hand laces through your hair, pulling your head back as you whimper in overstimulation. 
“Take it,” he groans, mumbling more to himself as his cock twitches inside of you, “come on, take it like the dirty whore you are. Love having me fill both your nasty holes, fuck.” 
His rhythm falters, and he thrusts one or two more times before spilling inside of you, fucking his seed deeper inside of you. 
Once he calms down, he slowly removes his thumb before carefully pulling out of your pussy, and you whimper at the empty feeling. 
“Stay here,” he whispers, kissing your hip before scrambling to the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth. 
He gently wipes you off, murmuring about how good you did for him, saying he’s proud of you before he helps you roll over onto your back. 
He chuckles at the goofy smile on your lips, eyes tired and droopy, and he pushes the hair that had matted to your skin with sweat out of your face.
“You okay?” He asks, voice low, and you nod happily. 
“‘M perfect.” 
“Good,” he smiles, pulling the comforter over you and cuddling up to your spent body. 
You lay in silence for a moment, happy and relaxed in his arms, before you speak up.
“So, you never hated me?” 
“Jesus Christ, Bun,” he sighs exasperatedly, “go to sleep.”
947 notes · View notes
jscrawls · 3 months ago
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Grave mistakes
Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?
Warning: contains mentions of violence, death, harmful tendencies, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,
Part 2: late night runs
🔹🔹🔹
You've been so busy that you haven't gone shopping for groceries since the move, of course two am is the perfect time to go out and maybe get to know your new home more intimately while you're at it. So you dress in your darkest and head out the door to start up your hearse.
Gothams quite gloomy and unwelcoming looking, looming architecture standing over everyone like unpleasant giants watching the ants crawl, gargoyle statues and symbols of darkness decorate every corner, You love it. People avoid you like the bubonic plague as you stroll through the night market, tote bag on your arm.
“Excuse me, my dear fellow, what's the price on these?” You gesture at the wilted vegetables in baskets under a faded gray canopy booth, the middle aged man looks up from his iPod and gives you a scrutinizing look before Glancing down at the assorted goods, before hauling himself out of his lawn chair with a huff to point at each basket as he speaks.
“thirty percent off everything after ten o'clock, root veggies are two fifty per pound, lettuce and cabbage are two fifty per head, garlic, onion and chives are four dollars per bag, broccoli and peppers are three for three. And before you ask, no I didn't water these out of the harbor and no I didn't steal them. All sales are final so don't try to bring me no rotten shit in a week asking for refunds.”
He straightens up and rests his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down critically, his free hand coming up to scratch at his salt and pepper scruff.
You nod appreciably as you point at the goods you want. “Wonderful, can I have a head of cabbage, five pounds of potatoes, two pounds of carrots, and a bag of onions and one of garlic?”
The man grunts and nods before he starts bagging the goods in paper bags, which he then cushions by stuffing newspaper into the bags to prevent bruising.
“It's gonna run ya twenty five and fifty cents, money first before you get the shit. No running off with my hard work.” The man's voice is gruff as he puts his hands over the bags, paranoid you'll grab and run.
You nod with a smile as you fish your wallet out of your pocket and pull a hundred out, setting it on his hand and then you start to look through the bags.
The man looks at the bill with a raised eyebrow before grabbing a flashlight to shine at the bill to check if it's legit, he hums lowly before looking back up at you. “You need me to break this or something?” He sighs as he starts to open up a metal tin under his booth as he checks if he has enough to break change.
You blink in surprise at the question, you glance down at his hunched over figure with a confused tilt to your head. “No, no my dear friend keep the bill I am perfectly able to break things myself.” You grab your paper bags and set them in your tote before happily strolling back out into the crowds of the night market, not noticing the man gaping after you.
You stop at a few more stands as you go, grabbing a few more essentials and non essentials before you decide your totes getting heavy so you start towards your hearse. Someone bumps shoulders with you as you're walking and then whirls around with an angry look.
“Watch it, spooky.” The person, a young man with dyed blonde hair and a neck tattoo spits between your shoes after all but barking like a dog at you.
“Apologies my friend, I did not watch your path for you when you walked into me.” You smile at him, the man's frown deepens and he takes a step back.
“Punk ass, watch your mouth before someone else watches it for you.” he looks you up and down like he's looking for something, then he scoffs and turns to stalk off, cussing at you under his breath the whole time.
you turn and happily continue on your way after that, making it approximately twelve steps before you’re grabbed by the upper arm and yanked into an alleyway.
two youngish guys brandish knives at you after they shove you into a brick wall, knocking your tote off your arm and dropping it. “run your pockets or we’ll stick you!” the closer one snarls, the other one quickly nudges him roughly with his elbow. “dude, shh! not so loud moron!”
the closer one rolls his eyes before holding his pocket knife up higher. “whatever, you get the idea emo. cough up the green before you end up in a hospital.”
you look between the two men with a smile growing on your face, this city is so exiting! “a hospital? couldn’t you aim for higher aspirations my friends?” the closer man’s lip curls, his grip on his blade tightening. “don’t start with that ‘you could do more with your life’ shit now, you’re not getting out of this with some pinterest quotes.”
“oh you misunderstand, i’m asking you to try for a morgue instead of a hospital. i’ll give you money of course, but i’d like to see some real effort here boys!” at your words the two of them exchange glances, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of their feet.
after a moment of silence the further away one of the two speaks up, “is this a game to you? some weird tactic to make us leave you alone? just give us something so we can all go home for gods sake.”
you pull your wallet out and start pulling money out. “ will you accept gold coins?” they share another look, the closer one leans over and roughly snatches the coins out of your palm. ‘who the fuck carries-you know what nevermind, lets go matt.” they both turn to dart further down the alleyway, but your confused voice stops them. “wait! you didn’t even give me a superficial wound! no jagged cuts that bleed and fester, not even a thrashing?” dissapointment colors your tone as you give them confused looks.
‘….are you like, alright?” before you can respond to the inquiry a dark figure suddenly lands in front of you, getting between you and the two robbers.
‘oh shi-!” the startled shriek is cut off by a swift kick to the sternum, the lithe figure ducks out of the way of the panicked knife swing the one named matt throws at them. the caped figure grabs his wrist and twists his arm until he drops the blade, they then smack him in the back of the neck, somehow knocking him out.
you clap exitedly from where you stand, cheering like this is a play. “good show! that was simply wonderful! me next!” you step closer, exited at the prospect of an attack. to your disappointment they silently grab the coins out of the hand of your would-be mugger and wordlessly hand them to you, no physical harm for you tonight it seems.
the figure is wearing black on black, a stitched up mask completely covers their face while some kind of ears decorates the top, their white lenses stare at you like the eyes of a doll, the yellow bat on their chest being the only splash of color on them. with a sigh you take back your money and start gathering your fallen bags, the quiet figure squats down to help you gather your things while they keep staring at you.
‘….hurt?” eventually they speak, their head tilting up and down as they carefully study your dejected figure.
“unfortunately no, i remain *miserably* unharmed.” the figure tilts their head at that, pausing with a potato in hand. “….you want to hurt?”
“of course, i think there’s no greater thrill in life besides death!” you stand up with the broken tote in hand, trying to balance the groceries in it despite the large split running down the side. the petite figure glances back at the two men on the ground before glancing back at you, again studying your form in silence.
“….okay.” they just nod slightly at that, unsure how to take your answer.
“right, well if i’m to remain physically well then i suppose i’ll head home, thank you for the good show my friend. i like the whole running about in black and brutally attacking people thing, very deranged.” you smile at them and turn to leave, they silently approach you and grab your wrist, when you turn to look at them they tuck a card in your hand before turning away and jumping up to grab a fire escape and climb out of the alleyway.
the card has a little bat on the back, cute. the other side is a help hotline.
🔹🔹🔹
M.list | prev | next
A/n: realistically I know Gotham wouldn't have night markets but just pretend with me y'all 🥹
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sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago
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Touch Me Baby
pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader
wc: 21.7k
cw: mad flirting, swearing, use of the f slur once, shattering glass, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, brief mentions of suicide, mentions of cheating, men being weird and implications of harassment, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (f recieving), minor praise kink, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, wrap it before you tap it kids
a/n: set in modern times with phones and everything! i've never written anything this long before, and I really hope you guys like it!!
steve harrington masterlist
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“You literally look so fucking hot oh my god.” 
You rolled your eyes and checked yourself out in the mirror, smirking slightly. “I can feel you objectifying me Birdy.” 
Robin rolled her eyes and collapsed on to your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think it’s unfair that you aren’t so emotionally and deeply in love with me.” 
“Hey.” You peered over your shoulder, “I told you that I’d be your lesbian lover the second you needed one.” 
She sighed and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to do me out of pity. I want you to love me.” 
You walked over and kissed her head. “ I do love you.”
“Yeah Yeah. As a friend.” She teased as you laughed and moved over to your vanity. 
“Just because you’re not my type doesn't mean I don’t think you’re showstoppingly gorgeous.”
“Are you trying to get into my pants Y/l/n?” Robin teased. 
“You wish Buckley.” 
Robin let out the most over-dramatic sigh and collapsed on your bed again, giggling after a moment.  
You laughed at her antics and checked out your makeup, your earrings, and your rings in the mirror next to your door. “Is this cute enough?” 
“Did I not just say how hot—”
You and Robin had lived together for about three years now. You had become fast friends freshman year and then roommates for the last three years of your college experience. The apartment you shared was perfect because it had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the price didn’t rise once in your entire time living in NYC. The best perk of them all was having a home phone. It was reminiscent of your childhood and you both handed out your home phone number to everyone, enjoying the messages you received from anyone and everyone. 
It rang and immediately went to voicemail, as Robin had set it on vacation mode the second you moved in meaning every single phone call went directly to voicemail so you could both hear who it was. A man’s voice rang out through your shared apartment. 
“Hey it’s Steve, I just landed and I’m on my way to your place, I think it’s only a twenty-minute drive but I wanted to alert the household I was on my way.” 
You looked over at Robin, slightly uneasy. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.” 
Robin shrugged and her smile was a bit brighter. Her two best friends were about to meet, and maybe even hit it off and they could be a friend group���but Robin was getting ahead of herself. 
“You’re going to like him. The same level of snark, but definitely a softie under it all. And he’s my best friend, so I wouldn’t be friends with him if he sucked.”
You crossed your arms. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just call him your best friend in front of me and say that, I know he’s one of your best friends, which is why I’m worried. What if he thinks I’m a huge bitch or something, or like…I don’t know.” 
“He’ll love you.” 
You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well. We have twenty minutes to fix up the house so that he doesn’t think we’re complete and total slobs or anything.” 
The two of you spent the next seventeen minutes unfolding your futon couch bed, frantically shoving trash in trash bins, and stuffing the dishwasher with dishes. You definitely weren’t slobs by any means, but sometimes it was easier to leave wine glasses or bottles on the coffee table, or just toss your bra onto the chair since you didn’t want to wear one anymore or…
“Which candle?” 
You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the extra pillows from your room. “Does it matter?” You yelled back to Robin. 
“I don’t know!” 
“Well, he’s your home best friend. So whatever you think would suit the straight man you’re friends with.” You walked out and placed the two pillows on the pull-out bed. 
“Okay, I’m going with Midnight Citrus because it’s my favorite and he can suck it up.” 
“Whatever you say, girl….” 
Both of your heads turned when you heard the knock on the door. Robin literally shrieked as she barreled towards the door and you swear you could hear Steve laugh through it.
Robin definitely knocked something over on her way over and you spent the next thirty seconds picking up the bowl and its contents from off the floor.
You had seen pictures of Steve before. There were plenty around the house of the two of them by themselves or with other friends from their hometown, so you knew Steve was an attractive man, but something about seeing him in person was a whole different beast. 
And there were no pictures in the apartment to prep you for the fact that he had these thin wire-framed glasses. You could have sworn he sucked the literal breath out of you. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Steve smiled that same lopsided smile you had seen on the walls and you probably would have dragged him back to your bedroom right then and there if Robin wasn’t standing right there and staring at you with the most hopeful look on her face you had seen since her breakup during sophomore year. 
“It’s uh, it’s so good to finally meet you too. Heard so much about you.” You smiled at him and kept your hands awkwardly in your back pockets. 
Steve nodded. “Same here. She actually doesn’t shut up about you.” 
“I could say the same thing.” 
“Okay, no need to be rude.” Robin huffed and haphazardly tossed Steve’s bags onto the couch. 
You and Steve shared a quick look, both of you trying not to laugh. 
“Ready to go Stevie boy? I know you just landed but it’s a Friday and I want to go out.” 
He nodded. “I remember the text you sent me like last week as a reminder Robs. I just have to change.” 
“The bathroom is the second door on the right.” You smiled at him and watched as he grabbed things. 
You looked over at Robin. “Where exactly do you want to go out?”
Steve passed by you and you caught a hint of the cologne he had put on this morning. He closed the door and you had to blink a few times. “Sorry, where did you say?” 
“I was thinking we could just go to the Cubbyhole…” 
“Robin, we are not taking him to Cubbyhole and ruining our reputation there.” 
“It’s literally not that big of a deal.”
“Babe, we are not bringing your straight man friend to a lesbian bar.” 
“Fine then—”
“And definitely not Henrietta’s either.” You cut her off. 
Robin crossed her arms. “ Well, then where do YOU want to take him? Because I’m not going to—” 
“Girl, please. It’s like you have no faith in me. Who showed you both of those bars in the first place?” 
“Fine then.” 
You smiled at your victory and watched as Robin walked over to the little whiteboard you had in the hallway. Robin erased the bottom half of the words but kept the tally up top. “So where are we going tonight?” 
“Are you okay with more of a just ‘sitting and drinking’ bar instead of clubbing tonight? Or at least we start at a bar and then move on to clubs?” 
Robin’s face twisted, but then she conceded. “Ugh, fine.” 
“Why don’t we start at Nothing Really Matters?”
“Which one is that?” 
Steve popped out of the bathroom right as Robin asked that question, causing you to stutter a bit in your answer. 
Steve was wearing these blue jeans that fit his thighs his ass him so well, and some clearly well-loved white Nike sneakers. But what got you was the shirt combo he was wearing. A tight black tee, covered by a short-sleeved patterned button-up, that was unbuttoned and just tight enough to fuck you up. 
Plus, you were sure you saw a silver chain around his neck, which made you wonder what it would look like when if he was above you. 
“I-I…um. It’s the one in.” You bit the inside of your cheek and looked back at Robin. “The one in the 50th Street subway station.” 
Robin raised her eyebrow at you, but you just shook your head, deciding to ignore what just happened and barrel through. 
“A bar in a subway station?” 
You smiled over at Steve. “It’s not as gross as it sounds. I swear. It’s one of my favorite little spots that not a lot of people know about so there’s almost always seating and they have really good drinks there too. Besides, it’s in the station so if Robin wants to abandon us for some clubbing then the train is right there.” 
He nodded and put his stuff away, while you looked back over at Robin who was making a face at you. 
“What?” 
She huffed and went into the kitchen. 
When you just stared at her, confused, she aggressively made a small wave for you to follow her. You sighed and obliged, managing to walk directly into Steve’s chest because you weren’t paying attention.
“Shit! Sorry.” Your hands were against his chest while he had one of his hands on your waist. 
“N-no it’s fine.” He gave you a sheepish smile and quickly pulled his hand off your waist, but your skin was covered in goosebumps from how close you two were. 
You quickly hurried into the kitchen where Robin was impatient tapping her foot. “Seriously?” 
“W-what?” you smoothed down the front of your top, trying not to look up at her. 
“You know what.” 
“Birdy I–”
“No, save it. I don’t want to fight. I just want to know why you’re so against going clubbing tonight when that was the original plan.” 
If you were to tell Robin the truth, it would be because you weren’t sure you wouldn’t end the night with her best friend in your bed, kissing him like the world was ending, doing things that would have her kicking you out of the apartment and her life. 
Or maybe it’s because you want to spend the entire night just talking to Steve and listening to his voice and learning every single thing about him. After all, you were utterly entranced. 
“I just, I worked all day, and now that we’re actually going out…I don’t know if I have the energy to go all out.” This wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth. You had worked twelve hours today, and even before Steve had arrived, you had been dreading going out anyway. 
Robin’s face twisted a little bit. “It’s Steve's first time visiting me in the city and I wanted to show him around and show him all the places that I get to have fun.” 
“And for him to have a friend for when you inevitably win the bartender’s number tonight and go back with her to her place….” 
Robin’s cheeks turned bright red and she huffed again. “What–no–okay so maybe a bit but–”
“Look, babe, if you want to go to the Cubbyhole, I am more than supportive of that, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the mood for. You could always ask Steve to go with you. Or ask him what he wants. And if he’s okay with going out, we can all start at the bar, and then we can split up based on how we are all feeling. Steve literally just got off of a plane not even an hour ago.” 
The two of you agreed on a plan and walked back into the living room, where Steve had been shifting his bags around, and had his phone open. 
“Are we ready?” He stood up and smiled at the both of you. 
You both nodded and smiled at one another. One of you was excited to start the night. And the other was dreading what would happen when Robin inevitably left you alone with her hot best friend from home. 
_________________________________________________________________________
The three of you had managed to snag one of the tables up against the wall of the bar. Steve sat on one side, and you sat on the other, with Robin between you. It was the perfect setup for everyone since Robin was in between her two favorite people on the planet, and you got to look at Steve frequently because he was in your direct line of sight. 
It was most definitely the alcohol, or maybe it wasn’t, but Steve was getting more attractive by the minute. 
“I’ll go get us another round!” Robin excitedly grabbed all three glasses and ran back off to the bar to get more drinks. While you were so grateful that it was going so well, you couldn’t help but Steve was feeling the same way you were. 
Were you such a bad friend if you were actually excited for Robin to leave the two of you alone together? 
“So how did you meet Robin?” 
You blinked a few times before looking over at Steve. It was dimly lit, but you were seated next to the lamp on the wall, so he was bathed in a red glow. He must have been some sort of Greek god or something because no one can look that good in any lighting at all times. 
“She didn’t tell you already?” 
Steve shook his head, smiling slightly. 
You bit your cheek again and smiled. “Okay so. We met in our first year here, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her, oh my god, she like, never shut up. And while I love her for it now, it was causing some strained tensions between the two of us. So we were in the same class and got partnered for a project about Women’s history, specifically, authors who we deemed as important. And so I offered up Toni Morrison, who is probably my favorite author of all time, and Miss Indiana over there told me that her books were mediocre at best and wanted to do a project about Virginia Woolf. Then I called her gay, and she freaked out. Not in the aggressive way you’re thinking, but simply because I knew she was a queer woman, and it freaked her out that someone could tell. Like only a gay woman picks Virginia Woolf.” 
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and you could tell he was unsure about the path this story was taking, but you continued on. 
“She ended up letting me win the argument and we put together the most beautiful slideshow on god’s green earth. I mean, seriously to this day, I think about the transitions. A good PowerPoint can make or break a class—anyway. After that, Robin didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week.”
“Which is valid because I thought she was going to fucking hate crime me since my experience with people knowing I’m gay is either Steve or getting called a fag so…” Robin placed the drinks down in front of the respective people and sat down on her stool.
“Until…” You took a sip of your drink, cutting her off so you could finish the story.”We attended the same party that Friday night at Vickie’s house—I’m assuming you know all about Vickie and the mess that was—anyway. We were at Vickie's place and I went into the kitchen where some girls were making fun of Birdy and calling her some really awful shit because she was from Cowland, and so I called them all a bunch of cunts and then defended my homegirl because women support women, especially queer women. Then she kissed me, and—she’s actually not that bad of a kisser if I’m being so honest with you—and then we’ve been best friends since.” 
“I’m a phenomenal kisser, excuse you.” 
You smiled and nudged her with your elbow. “Sure thing Birdie. You’re nowhere near the bottom of my list though. I think Malcolm is—remember him?” 
Robin burst into laughter. Steve looked between the two of you, extremely confused by the entire situation—it was written all over his face. 
“He used to—” You couldn’t breathe because of how hard you were laughing. The sentence was virtually unfinishable. “He-He would…” You tried to take a few breaths. “He would, uh, spray cologne in his mouth instead of using a mint because he thought that’s what it was for—” 
You and Robin collapsed against one another, back into your fits of laughter. This had Steve cracking up, not just at the fact that this man was stupid, but because you and Robin’s laughs were contagious. 
“She didn’t figure it out until the fourth date.” Robin blurts out, causing you to wipe away the tears in your eyes and shove her slightly. 
“Shut UP. I only kissed him like twice before then and it was just pecks.”
You caught a glance of Steve out of the corner of your eye, and he was looking right at you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and the two of you stopped time for a moment. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up into a smile before he broke eye contact and looked back at Robin. 
“Wood in the mouth takes a whole new meaning—”
“Oh please. Don’t even start with that—”
“I’m just saying your choices in partners–”
“At least I didn’t date a married woman–” 
“WHAT.” 
Your eyes widened and you looked at Steve. “She didn’t tell you?”
Robin started hitting your arm. “No. I. did. Not!” 
You laughed and used one of your hands to shove hers away from you. “It was like a three-month relationship but she realized–” 
Robin shifted tactics and clamped a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t finish the sentence. After a moment she made a gagging sound and quickly pulled her hand away. “Did you just fucking lick my hand?” 
You winked at her and looked back at Steve. “She knew this woman’s wife too. A month into dating Robs found out. Rough semester.” 
“Oh my god. Robin. Who are you? What else have you done that I don’t know about?” 
“That’s it. If you’re going to tell him all of my wrongdoings, I’m out.” Robin downed her drink and stood up. She kissed your cheek and grabbed her purse off of the chair she was sitting on. 
“Remember to wear protection there kid.” 
She rolled her eyes at you and turned towards Steve. “I know I—”
“Robs, seriously, it’s okay. Go have fun. I have been traveling all day. And I don’t mind talking to Y/n—” 
“Unlike someone here, I’m not going to abandon you, Steve, don’t worry.” 
Steve’s hand rested over his heart. “You’re too kind.”
Robin scoffed but was smiling the whole time. “Don’t wait up. Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
And with that, she left you and Steve sitting in the bar. 
“So Steve, what else do you want to know about our girl??” 
The two of you spent the next three hours sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. Eventually, you and Steve were knee to knee, your head on his shoulder when you laughed too hard, trading stories about Robin. Nice didn’t even begin to describe the way his cologne smells when you would rest your head on his shoulder, giggling about something he said. Or the way his hand felt when it rested on your thigh as the two of you talked and talked and talked. 
Or when the two of you couldn’t stop giggling on the subway as you told him about the time Robin threw up on someone on the subway after you both had been drinking all day during last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Or when you stumbled slightly on the street, clinging to Steve as he clung to you. Enjoying the sound of his voice as he whispered things into your ear. 
Or as your back was up against the wall next to your door, you watched Steve’s hands use the key and unlock your door, except both of you forgot the fact that the bolt was also locked, meaning Steve slammed his face right into the door since it wasn’t moving. You clamped your hand over your mouth, dying of laughter, watching as Steve tried not to laugh at the door himself, instead smiling brightly at you, with his head against the door. 
Or when you both stood in the hallway of your apartment, neither one of you wanting the night to end, toeing the line. Eyes pretending they weren’t staring at lips. Hands fluttering around, almost grabbing one another. An inch away from more than just friends. 
______________________________________________________________________________
The next morning, you awoke to an empty apartment and a text from Robin saying that the two of them decided to “hit the town”. 
You took your time. Decidedly talking yourself out of everything that had happened last night, especially when Robin had left you and Steve alone. It was dumb of you to even think about potentially betraying Robin’s trust like that. She didn’t bring Steve here to add him to your collection of failed lovers—and even if she did, you had a sinking feeling that Robin would choose Steve. 
It’s not to say that she didn’t love you, adore you, and wish nothing but the best for you, but you wish to never even put her in that position. 
So instead, you decided to take your mind off of everything by spending the afternoon in one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that was only a few minutes walk away from your place. 
You had managed to snag your favorite seat: a comfortable chair next to the window, and a plug. The plug was the best part since it meant you rarely had to get up and could just charge your devices without having to leave the spot you were in for potentially hours. And today was one of those days. The collection of mugs on the table grew as the hours of the day went on. By the time hour four had rolled around, there were about five mugs and two plates. 
That’s when the world did that thing again, when it decided to start ruining your day. First, your laptop was overheating more than usual, which was just plain irritating. Then, they had run out of the panini you were going to get for lunch. The final straw, however, was when one of your exes came waltzing up to the table. 
“Y/n, it’s been so long. How are ya?” 
You tried not to let a full resting bitch face take over, but to any observer, you were not happy to see the man in front of you. “Malcolm. Hey. I’m good.” 
“I’m doing great too. Mind if I sit? I just can’t believe I ran into you here.” 
Your breath hitched and that little voice in your head screamed panic!
“Um—actually, well, I come here all the time and you know that…Second, this seat's taken.”
“Well I’ve been here for about five minutes now and no one has taken that seat–”
“You’ve been watching me for five minutes? That’s fucking creepy Malcolm.” You tapped your finger against your keyboard nervously, eyes darting around, hoping someone would catch on to how uncomfortable this was for you.
“Please. That chair isn’t for anyone now is it?” 
“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”
It’s still unsure if you audibly let out a sigh of relief seeing Steve approach the table, and take the seat next to you. 
Malcolm crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Look bud, I don’t know if you’re trying to play the hero card here by swooping in to try and save some damsel in distress you don’t know just to get her number, but you can right fuck off.”
Steve turned and looked at you. “Is he bugging you, Y/n? Because I’ll fucking kick his ass…”
You smiled and placed your hand on top of Steve’s thigh under the table, where Malcolm couldn’t see. You gave it a squeeze, hoping to god he understood how grateful you were at the moment for him. “Steve, this is Malcolm…you remember…from the other night.” 
“Shut the fuck up—this is cologne guy?” 
You nodded. Throughout the rollercoaster of being approached by an ex who was kind of threatening you, inside your favorite coffee shop, while you were alone, your heart rate shot up. Your heart was pounding. But when Steve put his hand on top of yours, you thought your heart rate would skyrocket. 
And then the weirdest thing happened, it didn’t. Steve started rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, and your heart rate went down. If this was on purpose, you might never know, but this simple gesture from someone you have known for mere hours had your breathing even out and your heart rate slide back down to within reason. 
Wasn’t it written somewhere that love makes your heart beat out of your chest? 
That love makes your soul bleed and your eyes weep. Love is supposed to make you crazy and worship the other person till the ends of the earth. It’s supposed to be overwhelming and make you feel like you could burst just from how much love you hold within yourself. It was a disease, unable to be cured—a madness. It’s all-consuming, unforgiving, a fire that cannot be tamed. Something you willingly killed yourself for. Ended it all because the idea of losing it was a fate worse than death
What you’re feeling couldn’t be love then. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t going batshit crazy over the idea of risking your life for him or losing your mind over the thought that he might not love you back. It was just a plain and simple joy: sitting next to him, his hands on yours. 
Your heartbeat had found its way back to normal, and your mind began to refocus on the confrontation in front of you. 
By the time your vision refocused after the thirty seconds you managed to blackout, Malcolm was glaring at Steve but starting to walk away. Whatever Steve said, worked, and you looked over at him, confused. " I think I must have blacked out or something because how the hell did you get him to..." 
Steve shrugged. "If you missed it, you missed it." 
"You're joking right?" 
Steve shrugged and smiled. His hand was still on yours, but you completely forgot about it—
"What are you working on?"
—Til now. 
You begrudgingly took your hand away from his and brought it up to the keyboard of your laptop, clicking it awake so he could see what you had been working on. The two of you spent the next hour sitting and talking about your courses, which were all a bunch of nonsense anyway since you were a second-semester senior with barely anything to do. 
"You're taking a metal-welding class for credit?"
You smirked and nodded. "When I tell you college is a joke, I truly mean it. I kind of love it though. Robin, however, dislikes being outlesbianed by someone who is not a lesbian. But I think I'm getting pretty good at it too."
_____________________________________________________________________________
Two hours later, you and Steve found yourselves as the last two in the coffee shop, still talking about anything and everything you possibly could—wherever the conversation led you. 
When it was time to get kicked out, Steve helped pack up your things, and you both started the short walk back to the apartment where you ended up raiding the "delinquent Cabinet" as it had been affectionately named and properly labeled. 
By the time Robin got home from her shift, you and Steve had demolished a joint, several shooters, half a bottle of prosecco, and half a bottle of vodka. The conversation had never stopped, with the two of you always finding some way to stay touching to one another. You couldn't deny that the feeling of Steve calmed you down immensely, and the courage you were feeling from the past few hours helped with the want to have your hands on him. 
But when Robin walked into your apartment, you and Steve sobered up a tiny bit, deciding to leave some space between you both. You missed the way his hand felt on your calf, absentmindedly massaging it as the two of you talked about the difference between weed from Indiana and weed from a major city. 
“Hey you two…” 
“Birdy!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were fading away from the red of smoking, but your smile was lazy and your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way. 
“Ah, I see we broke into your stash?” 
You smirked slightly, and nodded. “Well if Mr. Harrington is going to smoke good weed, no offense to your friend back home, then he needs the best.” 
“Eddie sells good weed.” Steve defended his friend from home but it just made you giggle.
“Steve, that joint you gave me tasted like the equivalent of watered down vodka. It’s good, but it’s not the best. You can’t deny that mine was waaaaayyyyyyy better. Besides, it came from a pretty girl so it’s automatically better than Eddie’s.” 
Steve’s cheeks blushed slightly as he looked over at Robin. “How was work?” 
Robin’s eyes shifted between the two of you on the couch, but then settled on Steve. “How much did she have?”
“Don’t wanna know Birdy!” Your voice sang out across the room.
Steve shrugged. “Work?” 
She huffed and hung up her coat, admitting defeat on getting information out of a crossed-you. Robin kicked off her shoes and grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter–the one that was still half full–and joined the two of you on the couch. Robin managed to fit herself perfectly between you and Steve, causing you to frown slightly, but say nothing. 
“I almost punched an old lady but nothing new.” Robin took a long swing from the bottle of wine. 
“Was it that cunt Mrs. Defejeki?”
“Woah, language.” 
“What are you five?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s comment and picked up the remainder of the joint out of the ashtray, trading the weed for the rest of the bottle of wine. You and Robin shared basically everything. There were always a few exceptions, but still. If you started a bowl, Robin would finish it. If Robin did a shot, you did a shot. And while you were both built differently, the mix of shit the two of you ingested managed to get the both of you to about the same place. 
Robin just relit the joint in her mouth, nodding at you. “You’d think she’d go somewhere else to buy eggs if she always has something fucking stupid to say about our eggs. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re in a fucking city. If you want fresh eggs, get a friend with a coop on a roof or some weird shit.” She took a long drag, eyes rolling back and her eyelids closing. 
You nodded. “Or just…leave the fucking city.” 
This caused both you and Robin to burst into a fit of giggles, causing the latter to cough a little bit since she was still inhaling. 
You felt Steve’s eyes on you the whole time, but it only made you warm and fuzzy inside…or maybe that the combination of shit you put in your body. But either way, his eyes were gorgeous. You couldn’t help looking back at him, trying to locate every single color that reflected off of his eyes in the dim lighting. It didn’t help that his eyes were redder than yours, but he was still just as stunning to you. 
Robin leaned in front of you, blocking your view of the gorgeous specimen across from you on the couch, and placed the filter back in the ashtray. “Now what kiddos.” She placed a hand on your thigh and looked over at you, a smile on her face. 
“Did you wanna go out? Because I’m a little decapitated at the moment.” 
This caused Steve and Robin to burst at the seams. You furrowed your eyebrows as Steve and Robin kept laughing at you. Everytime they managed to calm down a bit, they would look at one another and burst out laughing again. 
“What!” You grumbled, shoving your foot against Robin’s thigh, trying to get her to pay attention to you again. “Whattttttt.” 
“It’s—” She giggled. “Not decapitated–HA–Incapt—” She couldn’t speak, she giggled so much. “Fucxk Steve.” She heaved out. “How the fuck do you say it?” 
Steve, who was not much better than Robin at the moment, was wiping literal tears from his eyes. 
“Incoorperat—fuck—wait.” He giggled again, and you were sure a flame just washed over your body, leaving you with goosebumps. “In—Cah—Pass–ih–tay–ted.” 
He slowly sounded out the word like he was in the middle of an eighth grade spelling bee. 
You slapped Robin's arm. “I literally said that!!” 
Robin and Steve burst into another fit of laughter. 
The group of you continued to giggle, and talk over one another. All of you filled to the brim with smiles and laughter and stories to tell. 
At some point you had changed into your pajamas, most likely when Robin had decided to call her night and go to bed. You, on the other hand, had changed into your pajamas, and gone back out into the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made during the night’s festivities. Steve, who was still awake, offered to help you, like the gentlemen you were learning he was. 
The two of you cleaned the kitchen, talking about your childhoods, comparing the worlds you grew up in–their likeness, their differences. 
And somehow 11 pm turned into Midnight. And then Midnight became 2 am. And then 2 am had become 6 in the morning. 
You had spent the entire night, sitting on your couch, talking to Steve Harrington. 
Since it was early enough in the morning, you invited Steve to come and sit on the fire escape with you, and watch the sunrise.  
It really sucked visually when there was no sun to watch rise since the sky was overcast and gray, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying Steve’s company. 
The two of you sat in silence with one another. You and Robin had always joked about how much you hated domesticity, the thought of just existing with someone else for the rest of your life was definitely a thought that scared you. Especially doing things as simple as laundry or the dishes, eating your meals together, or sitting on the fire escape and watching the sunrise together. But this moment, with Steve, made your heart ache. You never wanted this moment to end. It was a new drug you didn’t know you needed. And now that you had it, how were you supposed to give it up? 
“I really appreciated last night–tonight—the past several hours.” 
You looked away from the street, and over at Steve. “I-...I really enjoyed it too.” 
He smiled softly at you, and you have no idea what came over you, maybe it was bravery. But you reached over and brushed some of the hair in his face, behind his ear. It was intimate, maybe too intimate for people who were supposed to be friends by proxy of Robin Buckley and nothing else. 
You could feel Steve’s breath hitch and for a singular moment you regretted everything. You regretted staring at him in the bar. You regretted getting coffee with him. You regretted telling him about your thesis. You regretted sitting next to him during your movie night. You regretted the movie night. You regretted staying up and talking to him for hours on end, wasting away the night until he knew almost every single thing about you. You regretted suggesting coffee on your fire escape when you realized it was six in the morning. You regretted brushing his hair out of the way. 
But most importantly, you regretted not putting your coffee cup down when you did because the hot liquid spilled all over your lap when you quickly retracted your hand and stood up. 
“Shit–Fuck. Sorry.” You watched as the liquid covered your bare legs and as the mug clattered across the fire escape, and off the edge, shattering on the ground below. 
“Shit–are you okay?” 
You were shaking your head. The coffee was fucking hot, that was for sure. And that was at least your excuse for the tears that sprang to your eyes. Especially since you really liked that mug too. Steve put his mug down and crawled through your window. “Where are your towels??”
Your hands covered your face as you vaguely mumbled something adjacent to ‘the closet’. Steve had no idea which closet you meant, so he grabbed the dish rag hanging off of the stovetop and made his way back across the living room and through the window. 
“Are you okay?” He handed you the towel and you wiped off the burning hot liquid. Luckily, you barely had enough coffee to kill you, so your legs were just a bit red from the quick extreme change in temperature. 
Robin, who had heard the commotion ran out of her room in a tired stupor and looked around, panicking. “Is everything okay?”
Steve looked back into the apartment at Robin. “She–uh, she spilled her coffee and the mug went over the railing and she’s not burnt or anything but—yeah.” 
Robin furrowed her brows and made her way over to the window. “Sweetheart, why are you up this early? It’s not even seven am.” 
You shook your head, and that’s when the thunder started. You aggressively sighed and made your way back through the window into the apartment, following Steve who had done just that moments prior. 
“I'm going to go take a shower.” You quickly made your way to your room before Steve or Robin could say anything. 
You grabbed your lotion and a hair towel from your closet, alongside your robe, and headed into the bathroom. Once you closed and locked the door, you looked down at your legs. The red was starting to fade away, thank God, and there was no sign of bubbling so at least your embarrassing blunder wasn’t going to give you physical injury—only emotional. 
Steve and Robin’s hushed whispers carried down the hall but you had no idea what the two of them were talking about, only that it was probably about you. You decided to ignore it and splash some water on your face. 
God, how fucking embarrassing was that? You weren’t one to get flustered by men, or women, or really anyone, but this? What the fuck was that? Spilling hot coffee all over your lap? 
And Steve had sprung right into action, could he be any more perfect? My god you were fucked. 
It was at that moment that you realized you left your phone on the kitchen counter. It’s not that you couldn’t shower without music, but you preferred not to. So now you have to contemplate the dilemma of going out and facing your best friend and her best friend who were definitely talking about you, while you were only in a robe, or do you just suffer in silence. 
When you heard the front door slam shut, you had your answer. Assuming that both of them had decided to go out to breakfast and give you some space, you shoved your clothes into the hamper in the closet in the bathroom and opened the door. 
And there was Steve, with his hand up, as if he was about to knock. “Hey—sorry.” 
“Oh–” You took a step back, and only looked at his face for a moment, a little too embarrassed to really make eye contact with him. 
“Sorry, it’s just—I–uh, Robin went to get us some breakfast from this place…She wanted me to let you know, and you had been in there a while without the water running so I–uh–wanted to make sure everything was okay.” 
You looked up at him and almost swooned at the sincerity in his eyes. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he want to talk to you? You had only been in the bathroom for like, five minutes without turning on the water? 
“I’m fine Steve, thank you for asking. I wanted to…um…apologize for earlier when I–” 
Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, seriously–”
“No I so do, I literally made a move on my best friend’s best friend, and almost completely unwarranted too–”
You were cut off by the feeling of Steve’s lips on yours. 
It was like heaven was on earth, and every single one of those thoughts came back to your mind. Steve’s lips—having coffee in the mornings with him. His eyes—getting dressed up and going out to lunch and running errands with him. His smile—making dinner with him and doing the dishes afterward. His hair—the sight of his head between your legs—
He pulled away the second he realized you weren’t kissing back and started to follow down the same path of panic you had just been on. “Shit—I read that so wrong–fuck, I didn’t—”
You pulled yourself out of whatever stupor you were in, grabbed Steve Harrington by the back of his neck and shoved his face into yours—lips crashing against the others. His hand flew around your waist and pulled you up against his body. 
He tasted like mint chapstick, something you weren’t sure you were expecting, but it just added to how attractive he was. 
Steve slowly walked you backwards, until the back of your thighs hit the counter. Steve all but picked you up while you hopped backward onto the counter. He was once again your knight in shining armor when he held you in place, saving you from toppling over into the sink. You laughed against his lips, causing him to smile and pull away for a moment. “You’re clumsy aren’t you.” 
You watched as his chest rose and fell, just as quickly as yours. You pulled him into another first kiss, wanting to feel his lips again. “You have no idea.” You mumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Steve moved his lips away, starting to kiss up your jaw, preening at every little gasp and inhale and sound you made. He squeezed your hips and moved your waist slightly, giving you the hint you needed to start grinding on him. His teeth grazed your ear and you let out a moan, rolling your body up against his. 
Steve let out a breath against your neck making your skin break out into goosebumps. Your right hand was clutching the kitchen countertop, while your left hand had made its way up his chest and on the back of his neck. Your fingers wove into his hair, yanking on it slightly as he continued to kiss lightly down your neck. 
Something you never thought would happen today was hearing Steve Harrington moan. It was one of the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your life, causing you to pull on his hair again just so you could hear it again. 
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He groaned against your neck and pulled you directly against him.
“So do something about it.” You sighed out gripping the counter tightly. 
You felt him smirk against your skin and pull away from you, much to your dismay, which you made known by your groan. "Steve please."
"Say it again Princess." 
Your eyes met his as you bit your lips. "Please." 
A wave of something came over your entire body at the look Steve gave you when spoke. 
"Anything you want, pretty girl." 
Something else you had never thought would happen today was the sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you on your bathroom floor between your legs. 
You had basically prepped for this moment since you were completely naked under the robe you were wearing, but the thought of a shower was now far from your mind. Steve kissed your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath, and grip the countertop impossibly harder.
He slowly kissed up your thigh, moving your legs so that they were over his shoulders. 
You moaned out his name, causing him to falter for only a moment. He groaned against your skin and squeezed your thigh with his hand. “Fuck me gorgeous.” 
You licked your lips, unable to lift your head from the way it was resting on the mirror. 
"Sweetheart, eyes on me." 
You moaned and inhaled, looking down at the man between your legs. His eyes were already on yours, as he slid both of his hands up, pulling you directly against his mouth. 
The feeling of his lips against your cunt made you let out the most strangled sound, trying your best to contain anything above a whisper. 
You could have cummed at the way he was looking at you, but just rocked your hips against his mouth, hoping for a bit more of the feeling of him. 
“Come on pretty girl.” He licked up your cunt, causing your body to involuntarily jolt a little bit. “I know you can make prettier sounds than that. I wanna hear them. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you like this–”
There was a knock on the front door, slightly frantic, but not panicked. 
“Hey, guys? I accidentally locked the door, can you come get it for me?” 
You let out a little gasp, your breath stuttering as you teetered on the edge of the counter and on an orgasm. Steve pulled away and kissed your thigh quickly. You leaned your head back against the mirror and just gripped the counter, coming to terms with the fact that your best friend just cock blocked you, and that Steve was no longer between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. 
“Hey, pretty girl.” He cooed, standing up and kissing you quickly. “I know I know.” 
You whined when he pulled away, the taste of you on his lips was not one that either of you would forget for at least the rest of the day, probably your lives. 
“I’m gonna turn on the shower and then go let her in—.” 
Your phone pinged with a text from Robin as Steve turned the shower on for you. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get any sort of release from the pent-up orgasm just sitting in your gut. 
“You wouldn’t do anything without me, pretty girl, would you.” 
“I could hurt you, Steve Harrington.” You muttered but nodded to his statement. 
He smirked slightly but then closed the door behind him and you heard him make his way to the door, to let Robin into the apartment. 
It wasn’t even 8 am and you hadn’t slept and the day was getting longer by the minute. 
_____________________________________________________________________
After that morning, you had somehow managed to miss Steve at every turn, causing your frustration to build throughout the day, especially since he was leaving the next night. 
And then, because of your classes, you managed to not see Steve at all for the rest of the trip, except for the few minutes where the two of you crossed paths, with Robin. 
The last time you were face to face with Steve Harrington alone for more than a few seconds was when he was tongue-fucking you on your bathroom counter. And it was pissing you off. 
But one day, a few days after Steve had flown home, your phone pinged. And when you saw that one Steve Harrington had started following you on instagram, you followed him back embarrassingly fast. 
The only thing that was more embarrassing then that was how quickly he dmed you after.
And suddenly you were attached to your phone: Constantly checking it to see if he texted you, smiling at your screen whenever his photo popped up, giggling at his cheesy jokes out loud. Your demeanor had completely changed. Instead of the consistent snark and attitude, you had a more pleasant and approachable demeanor. You would wake up early in the mornings and make breakfast for Robin before she was even out of bed. At the clubs, you would dance and drink with people, but never danced with them for more than one song, and didn’t take anyone home either. Sometimes you would even opt to sit there on your phone, texting Steve. 
But after three weeks of being on the outside of whoever was making you feel this way, Robin had enough. She was going to find out who this mystery person was, and how the hell they managed to make you act like this. 
“Who the fuck have you been texting?” 
You looked up from your phone, immediately clicking it off. “What are you talking about?” 
Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop for the past two weeks, smiling at it like some sort of lovestruck idiot, so who is it? Who are you smitten for?” 
“Pshh–I’m not—I think you’re losing it, or something.” 
“Is it a girl?” 
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. 
“So what’s his name then huh?” 
You looked away from her, staying silent. 
“You can’t pretend like you haven’t been smiling at your phone, or that you haven’t been drifting off into space…You’re literally doing it right now?” 
You blinked the images of Steve out of your mind and shook your head.
“You’re delusional—” Just as you looked over at Robin, she was on top of you, having launched herself across the room in an attempt to get your phone from your hands. Unfortunately, Robin launched herself at you with such force that the two of you toppled over and she managed to grab your phone, snatching it from your hands. 
Right before she could slither out of your grasp, you grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards your body. “Robin give me my PHONE.” 
This was an unfortunate situation for many reasons. The first was that Robin escaped your grasp and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The second was that your phone unlocked with her face so it was relatively easy for her to snoop. The third reason happened so painfully slowly. You heard her laughter die off and silence take over. She had discovered who you had been texting.
And you just stood across from the bathroom door, leaning against the wall and bouncing your leg, eyes wide, heart beating loudly, as you could feel Robin looking through everything you had been saying to Steve. 
She had been your best friend for years so she knew how you texted when you flirted, and to make matters worse, she knew how her other best friend texted when he was flirting too. 
Suddenly the door opened quickly and Robin handed you your phone back. 
“Birdy—”
She shook her head. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Her voice shook a little bit and all you could do was stand there, knowing better than to try and prod her. “I’m not—I just need to think and then we can talk about it.” She muttered. 
You watched as Robin grabbed her coat, her purse, and her airpods before you watched the door slam shut. 
The next thirty-seven minutes were filled with silence and a lot of panic cleaning. Suddenly your bed had new sheets in it, you had taken out the trash, the dishes had been done, you swept the kitchen—and even lit that midnight citrus candle Robin loved so much. 
Ever since becoming friends, you and Robin simply didn’t fight. The two of you got along so well that it felt like you were made for each other sometimes. But right now? Now was not one of those times. Instead, you paced around in literal circles because the guilt of non stop texting Steve was eating you alive. 
But it’s not like you did anything wrong either. The two of you had only been texting and nothing more. Sure it was almost every second you possibly could and he did take up all available space in your head, especially since the two of you never got around to round two of your bathroom scene—let alone finishing the first session.  
You were not dating Steve Harrington. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t do anything else without Robin’s knowledge and consent of the issue in the first place. 
You looked up when the door closed, making eye contact with your girl. In her hand, she had a brown paper bag and a drink carrier carrying her favorite drink in it, alongside yours. You smiled at her, hesitantly because she really could have thrown the drink in your face and you would have accepted it. But instead, Robin gestured towards the balcony and you nodded, grabbing some napkins and opening the window so she could step out onto the fire escape. 
Once you both were through, you each sat in your respective spots, delegating the drinks and the pastries she had picked up on her way home from whatever path she had taken herself on. The two of you did this in complete silence. At first, it was nerve-wracking, but the peaceful knowledge of the fact that you both could move in sync with one another felt good. 
You both sat and watched the people pass by, taking sips of your drinks, and taking small bites out of each of the pastries. You weren’t going to speak first—that much was obvious. 
After a moment, Robin sighed and looked at you. “You like him a lot.” 
Not a question, just a fact. 
You nodded. “Yeah…” 
“Hmm.” Robin’s mouth twisted, but not into anything malicious. She looked down at her hands. “I wish you told me you liked him sooner, because he clearly—uh, he clearly likes you back.” 
Your cheeks tinged with pink, and your hands rubbed at your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that there was a blush on your face. 
“I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless I talked to you first Birdy—” 
“I know.” 
“And neither was he—”
“I know.”
“And honestly Robin, I really do like him, and I was pretty sure he liked me back. I mean we spent an entire night out here talking and talking—I’ve never talked to anyone this much in my entire life. And he thinks I’m funny and actually answers my texts and I—I just….”
“I know.” 
You looked over at her. Your mind swimming with thoughts of Steve and Robin. It was bringing you to the verge of tears since no matter how big a crush on someone was, you would never let it come between you and Robin’s friendship. 
Robin took your hand in hers and shook her head. “It’s okay. I promise.” 
“Really?”
“Yeah–I mean. I had to think about it and at first, I was really mad, like pissed, because I thought you two had been seeing each other behind my back—which obviously I know you weren’t—and then I realized how fucking smitten you’ve been since he was here. I mean your attention was basically in Indiana.” The two giggled a little bit, a tear breaking free from your eye as Robin continued. “But you weren’t. You were still my best friend and you didn’t even do anything because you cared about me? And I’m not exactly thrilled that Dingus has won your heart over me, but I also wouldn’t not recommend him, if that makes any sense.” 
You nodded. “Birdy I–” 
She squeezed your hand. “Really. It’s okay. I’m honestly just mad about the fact that he’s answering your texts. He’s the fucking worst at texting everyone else so it must mean he really likes you. I’m extremely jealous…” 
You laughed again, just enjoying Robin’s goodness. 
“Besides, I feel like it gives me the upper hand for a question I’ve been wanting to ask. Wanna go to Cowland with me in a few weeks? The kids have been dying to meet you and they’re graduating from high school and I was going to go back anyways but since I know you probably want to see Steve again–”
“Robin. I’ve been bugging you to take me to Cowland for literal years. I’d be so down to go, not just because Harrington is there.”
The two of you shared a hug, arms wrapped lovingly around the other, squeezing almost all the air out of each other’s lungs. 
_____________________________________________________________________
Finally, the semester had ended, and it was time for Robin to go home and visit her kids. You and Robin had both walked across the stage, receiving your diplomas in your respective fields, both of you with Magna Cum Laude cords around your necks, plus a few others. Steve couldn’t make it up to the city that weekend, which was a little upsetting to Robin at first, but all was understood. 
The two of you had signed a lease for another two years, deciding that you both wanted to stay in New York City, and you both wanted to live with each other. This was really exciting for both of you, but was causing a serious amount of guilt for your best friend. 
"Robin, it's not bad news. I know I'm biased, but it's incredible news that you have a job, and you have a place to live. and Yes—-don't cut me off—Yes, it's sad because it's officially going to be your permanent home, but that's, like, that's what growing up is." 
"When the fuck did you get so...so....wise?" 
You shrugged and looked over at her with a smile. 
Since Robin didn't have a license, the two of you patiently waited at the airport for Steve to arrive. He had no idea you were suddenly in the great state of Indiana. You had never been before, and Robin had told you not to get your hopes up—but part of you was excited to see where your best friend grew up, where she was before this chapter of your lives. 
You hadn't told Steve that you were in state, at the request of Robin, since she had some sort of plan in her mind. You knew that the first step was gauging Steve's reaction to seeing you at the airport with her, which made no sense to you, but you kept your mouth shut since this was her home turf. 
A maroon BMW pulled up in front of the two of you, and you could say you were surprised by Steve's car of choice, but you would be lying. It's not that he read as a rich person, but Robin had one time told you his parents were loaded and you had laughed her off. Seeing how nice this car was, you wish you could take it back. 
Steve pulled up to the two of you and rolled the window down. "Do you actually need help with the luggage or can you—" The second he saw you, he lost track of his sentence. Eyes roaming over your face, your body. Why did it feel good to be looked at like that? 
"You're here." 
You gave him a nervous smile. "That is true, yes." 
The corner of Steve's mouth tugged up into a smile, and the two of you continued to look at one another, enjoying the fact that you were finally in each other's company again for the first time in over a month. 
Robin snapped a finger in front of your face. "Good grief you two, let's get moving. I'm not standing out here in the sun all day because we stunned Steve into silence with your presence—-and to be fair, if you surprised me, I would be shocked into silence too by how excited I would be— pop the trunk Steven— to see you, but this is not the time. I want to get on the road as quickly as possible." 
Steve snapped out of the trance between you both and popped the trunk of the car. He quickly got out of the car and moved around it to grab the luggage from you, and Robin, to put into the trunk. 
"You suck ass, Harrington. You'll get out of the car for her, but was gonna make me put my bags in the back myself." 
Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, almost like an exasperated mother. "Robs, seriously. You know I would have gotten out to help you." 
"I'm sure you would have Steve. I'm sure." 
"You're not even in Hawkins and you're being a pain in my ass." 
The two of them continued to squabble, making their way into the front of the car while you slid into the back. It was the sort of friendly banter that you could get used to. 
And you did because, after about ten minutes into the drive, you had completely zoned out and watched as the roads turned into fields. You had never seen such flat land before, it was... bizarre. The world felt like it was supposed to have things reaching towards the sky—trees, skyscrapers, mountains—but not here. It was tall grass and nothingness. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just different—something almost serene about the vastness of it all. 
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be grounded, but you couldn't speak to that since you had literally run away to the city to live in the sky and aim for the stars. 
Your introspection about the human condition of reaching for the stars was interrupted by Robin. 
"Right Y/n?" 
"Mhm." 
"Were you even listening?" Steve huffed. 
"To be so honest, I have no fucking idea what you said birdy. Not one clue." 
Robin groaned and turned around in her seat to look at you. "How long have you been tuned out; I don't know how much of this I can restate." 
"Basically since we left the city." 
Robin groaned again: way louder, and with a lot more dramatics. "I'm not explaining this again. You agreed with me regardless, so it's the truth." 
Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled at you. It was one of those smiles that could make a girl trip over her own feet, and it was directed at you, making your insides melt. Steve had clearly been out in the sun since he was a little tanner than you last remember, and he had a small swatch of freckles across his nose and cheeks. It was adorable. 
"Oh! Oh! We're almost there!" Robin exclaimed, and you broke your eyes away from Steve's to look at the old sign she was pointing to. 
Hawkins - 5 Miles
"Five minutes til you enter a literal hellscape." 
Robin swatted Steve's arm and smiled back at you. "It's not that bad I swear. Like sure, it's a bit of a Cowland, that much is true, but—-"
"You don't have to justify Cowland to me Birdy. The only thing you have to justify is the fact that we have been on the road for almost an hour and I have yet to see a single cow. Now that's just ridiculous." 
Robin smiled at you and turned back around, facing the front again. She reached over and snatched Steve's phone (something you realized was a habit with everyone) and opened his Spotify, scrolling until she found the right song. She cranked the volume up and rolled the windows down, screaming along the words to Everybody Wants to Rule the World. How fitting. 
You rolled your window down and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your face. While you had never been to Indiana before, or most of the middle of the country, something you definitely loved was how fresh the air was. No buildings or mass amounts of cars were polluting the air—just the grass and trees. 
Steve looked in the rearview mirror at you again, and you looked up, feeling his gaze on you. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. The pure joy that you were here. And you knew it was going to be a good two weeks here in Hawkins. 
That was until it rained for three days straight, and you and Robin were basically stuck inside her room with nowhere to go. Robin's parents were kind enough to lend you their cars when they got home from work since Robin didn't drive and you didn't have a car, but that meant that if either of you wanted to go anywhere during the day, you had to bike or walk and neither of which, in the rain, was really ideal. You could always wait for Steve to get off of work, but by then you'd have Robin's parent's car so you were stuck.
But on the fourth day, you woke up to the smell of petrichor and a shining sun peering through the curtains. This was perfect because of you and Robin's strict itinerary. 
Friday Day: Exploring the town/Lovers Lake
Friday Evening: Graduation 
Friday Night: Grad Party
When Robin told you that you were spending your day at Lover's Lake, you thought she was actually going to murder you since there were no real places named that, but when the two of you were picked up by Steve to head to the lake, you found out it was, in fact, a real place. 
It was actually kind of pretty, considering it was surrounded by woods. You were calmed by the sense of height within the area from the trees, but the actual visage of the lake was beautiful, and the sun reflecting off of that made it feel a bit more magical. 
You were decked out in that same hoodie from the other day, as well as your favorite pair of shorts, both of which were covering up your favorite bathing suit. Swimming was enjoyable, but you weren't sure if today was a swimming type of day or a lounging in the sun type of day. 
Either way, it was a 'try-not-to-stare-at-Steve-Harrington' day. 
Your chauffeur started to help two other guys around his age, set up a picnic blanket, secure an umbrella into the sand, and set up the speaker for the music.
Nancy, the girl you had yet to be properly introduced to, got out of the car she drove here in with one of the boys, and walked over to you, a bright smile on her face. 
"Hi! I'm Nancy, it's so nice to finally meet you. Robin hasn't shut up about you since you first met at college." 
Your face lit up and you tried to cover up the smirk on your face. "Since we first met? Damn Birdy, I had no idea..." 
"Thanks, Nance, now she's not going to shut up about it for fucking weeks," Robin mumbled, slinking off to go grab more things from Steve's car. 
"It's really nice to meet you, Nancy. I've heard a lot about you too." You smiled and shook her hand—it felt a little serious for a meeting, but you got the sense that was just how Nancy was. 
"Did Robin add your songs to the playlist? It gets really varied at times, but it's the only way we figured out to let each person be happy with the music if we all put fifteen songs on there, and then hit shuffle." 
You shook your head, really confused about what this girl was saying to you. Nancy handed you her phone and scrolled through the playlist, showing you everyone's music picks, and explaining it in further detail. When you finally understood, you paused. "So can I add anything? No questions asked?" 
Nancy nodded, smirking at the slight twinkle in your eyes. You added yourself to the playlist and handed her back her phone. "I'll add them before we start the playlist so that way they're in there fair and square." 
Nancy nodded and then looked over at the boys. "So! You've met Robin, and obviously Steve, has Robin introduced you to anyone else yet?" 
You shook your head 'No' and Nancy took your hand and dragged you off into the sand towards the gaggle of boys all staring at the umbrella since it was not as sturdy as they thought it would be. 
After a single gust of wind, it had knocked right over. 
"Nance there's no need to man-handle y/n—-" 
Nancy rolled her eyes and stopped short of the group. "Go get some rocks Steve, and pile it around the base, I'm pretty sure we went over this last summer..." 
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure it ended up not working in the long run there Wheeler." The long-haired guy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. 
"Do they always give you this much lip even when they're wrong?" You half-whispered to Nancy, causing the two of you to try and cover your laughs. 
"Y/n! You're supposed to be on my side here." Steve threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his hips. 
"You look like a mom." You blurted out, causing yourself and the rest of the young adults to laugh together. Except for Steve, who was fake fuming, but really just at a loss. He really didn't think he looked like a mother but if a girl he had hung out with for no more than three days thinks so, then he might as well be fucked. 
"Where did Robin find you?" 
You looked across the group to the guy with longer hair, a tight tee with some sort of skull on it, and black bathing suit shorts. He was attractive, that was sure enough, but he definitely wasn't the pretty boy Harrington wanted to take a bite out of. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Take a wild guess." 
"Touché. So. More importantly, what are you adding to the playlist." 
You shrugged. "You'll find out. I'm guessing you're Eddie." 
"In the flesh." He did one of those bows that was reminiscent of a movie from your childhood—it was really fucking nerdy.
"And so you must be Jonathan." Your tone shifted, slightly nicer, less of a bite to it. It stumped Steve, watching you clearly figure out and adapt yourself to the person you were talking to, but never being one to actually hurt the other person, just tease lightly. 
Jonathan nodded, his arm was already around Nancy's shoulder, and he gave you a small 'Hey". 
Robin shouted over at the group for help with all three of the coolers, and you watched Jonathan and Nancy go over to help her with them. You helped Eddie and Steve set the umbrella again (this time properly), and moved on to setting up your towel and bag. 
Steve placed his towel on the other side of yours and sat down on the ground next to you. Eddie had moved on to setting up his area around the picnic table, reorganizing coolers, and setting up the various snacks for the group throughout the day. 
"So..." 
You turned and looked over at Steve, who was looking right at you, a brightness in his eyes that the sun couldn't match. It looked right, like it was supposed to always be there. 
"So..." You responded, smiling back at him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" 
You sighed and leaned back on your hands, looking out over the water. "Robin thought that it would be a good...test of character, I think is how she put it. She, uh, got a hold of my phone a few weeks ago, and made the connection about why I had been so..." 
Steve bit his lip. "So...?" 
You rolled your eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you if you're going to be a jerk about it." 
Steve held his hands up, "I swear I won't be." 
"Fine." You huffed and looked down at your legs. "Why I was so...attached to my phone, and blushing all the time, and why I kept smiling when I would get a text....and yeah." 
You saw as Steve's face flashed with a wave of emotions, all of which managed to stay just below the surface. One of these days you would have to just stare at his face all day so you could learn very little mannerism, every little quick about this man. 
"You, uh, smile every time I text you?" 
You pursed your lips but then nodded. "Yeah. I—uh, I do." 
"Hm." Steve nodded and looked out over the lake. 
"Yeah." 
You looked over at Steve just as he looked at you, causing both of you to smile again. Just as Steve was about to say something, you heard Robin call across the beach. 
"Babe!" 
You huffed slightly, the smile on your face becoming a little fake before turning and looking over at your best friend. "Yeah, babe?" 
"Add your fucking music so I can hit shuffle." 
"Aye Aye Captain." You gave her a mock salute and pulled out your phone, turning back towards Steve. 
"Am I seriously going to get judged for what I put on?" 
"We actually have a no complaints rule, since a certain someone would always bitch when his music never came on." 
Your face lit up with amusement and nodded, before looking down at the playlist and scrolling through the songs already on there to see what had been added already. 
"You really like the seventies and eighties, huh Harrington." 
He shrugged and smiled. "I think I could have easily been an eighties heartthrob." 
You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm slightly. "Yeah okay, sure." 
Steve feigned a gasp. "You don't think I could've been!" 
This caused you to laugh but continued to sort through your music, choosing the fifteen songs you felt like you wanted to hear most today. 
"I'm sure you could have Steve. I'm sure." 
Steve clutched his heart and fell backward. "You're killin' me here princess!" 
You hit his thigh, not hard, but just enough to get your point across. "Don't call me that, unless you're going to commit to finishing the job because you owe me...big time." Your eyebrows were raised expectantly, but your voice was low so only Steve could hear you. 
Steve smirked, and his eyes went a little dark for a moment before the sun returned them to their caramel color. "Trust me, now that you're here..." 
"Good." You smiled and laid back on your towel, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face and thighs, and enjoying the company of the smirking man next to you. 
And you both stayed like this for the next hour, only getting up when food was offered. Steve eventually left your side, deciding to go for a swim. You opted out but enjoyed the view.
“He’s something else…”
You turned and looked at Robin sitting next to you, nodding in agreement. 
“He really likes you.” 
Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Teasing her. 
Robin shook her head and smiled. “I don’t have to. I mean, I've known him for years, but he’s never been like this about any girl, not even Nance.”
“Steve and Nancy dated?” 
“They were the couple in high school. Did not end well, but the two of them are still good friends, surprisingly.”
You mouthed a soft ‘oh’. 
“But…I’m being dead serious Y/n, he’s never been so…chill, peaceful…I don't know—”
“Sure.” Nancy chimed in and sat down on the opposite side of you. 
“What?” 
“He’s just so…sure about you. Like yeah, he can be a cocky asswipe, but he’s always freaking out about whether or not something is right, or going the way he thinks it’s supposed to.” 
Robin nodded along while you tried to breathe evenly again. Not that you didn’t get those feelings from Steve, you absolutely did, but hearing about it from both Nancy and Robin at the same time was a bit overwhelming. 
“He just, He’s so calm.” 
“We’re not even dating.” You sighed, crossing your arms and looking out at the man in the water. He caught you looking at him, and winked at you, sending you a smile along with it. You waved slightly at him, returning the smile. 
“He hasn’t asked you yet?” 
“Nancy, it’s the twenty-first century, girls can ask guys out too.” 
You rolled your eyes at Robin and shook your head. “No, not yet. We’ve only actually spent about fifteen hours in each other’s presence, with one of those being the hour drive down from Indianapolis…”
“Holy shit, and he’s that….wow.” Nancy leaned back on her hands, looking out over the water. 
Plus we didn’t want to start dating behind Robin’s backs and have her hate us forever and ever. But you kept that thought to yourself. 
The man in question decided that he had enough of the staring from the group of girls sitting on the beach, and waded his way over to you three, before walking out of the lake. “Can I help you three?” 
Steve was literally dripping hotness off of his body. The sun backlit him, creating this holy look about him, and the water droplets slowly made their way down his chest and abs and down towards—You snapped your eyes back up to his face, where he was watching every single movement of your eyes, smirking slightly. It was fairly pornographic and would have you dragging Steve over to the car and fucking him senseless, but you’d settle for eye-fucking him instead since Robin was directly next to you, and so was Nancy. 
“Just questioning Robin’s girl here.” 
Steve’s eyes stayed trained on you and he raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, then why were all of you staring out at me huh?” 
“Well, Harrington if you must know...”
“–I must Robin.” 
“I’m just learning things. That’s all.” You tilted your head slightly, almost teasing him slightly. Your gaze was already enough to make anyone blush, but Steve Harrington wasn’t anybody. However, he immediately lost the shine of confidence at the thought of you, Robin, and Nancy talking about him. 
“Learning what…exactly?” 
You, alongside the other two girls, just shrugged, causing Steve to eye all three of you up and down, and head over to where Eddie was cooking up some lunch for you. 
Sighing, you fully laid all the way down again and closed your eyes. “I think I’m just going to lie in the sun for a while and internalize every little thing the two of you just said to me.” 
You didn’t hear as the two girls got up and left you alone. You also didn’t hear as someone else took his place next to you. You just drifted off into a light sleep, enjoying the warmth the sun was providing you so that you could just breathe for a moment and figure out everything that was going on inside your head. 
First off, you liked Steve. And Steve liked you back. This was obvious before the girls told you, but the confirmation was a plus. 
Second, Steve hadn’t mentioned ever going on another date, ever. You hadn’t even gone on a first one if you remembered correctly. 
Third, You were unsure if Steve Harrington wanted to actually date you, or even kiss you. Sure, you rode his face like you were in one of those bull games in the rodeo bar, and he clearly seemed to enjoy it. But the only time he actually mentioned getting physical with you was either while it was happening, or if you brought it up first. Was he actually interested in you, or just being a gentleman? 
This shit was fucking hard, that’s for sure. 
“Hey.” 
You hummed, letting Steve know you heard him. 
“They’re going on a walk through the woods, wanna join?” 
You shook your head, not wanting to get up from your spot on the towel. 
Steve was silent for the next few moments. You assumed that he was staying on the beach with you since the others grabbed a couple things and started walking off into the woods. 
“You’re not going?” 
“Nope.” 
You opened one eye and looked over at the boy next to you. He was looking right at you–a small smile flashed across his face. He was nervous. “I-I hope that’s okay.” 
“Yeah…Steve, it is.” 
“Good.” He hummed and smiled at you. 
_____________________________________________________________________________
Hawkins decided on having a Friday Night Graduation, and while at first, you were hesitant, you realized you’d rather have a graduation at sunset than have to wake up at the crack of dawn to watch kids you didn’t know walk across a stage. 
You had gotten slightly dressed up, wearing a summery dress that didn’t leave you overheating, but was one step above casual. Sitting in between Steve and Robin was definitely something to behold considering they wouldn’t stop whispering to you, pointing out their kids. 
The Salutatorian was one of theirs—a Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, as you found out. His speech was beautiful and even made you tear up a bit, which meant nothing since the group you were sitting with was all crying alongside you. 
Eventually, the graduates walked, and you watched your friends stand up and down, screaming and cheering for their kids each time one of them walked across the stage. You had learned all of them using a Quizlet, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up any names. So far, you had learned that Dustin Henderson was Steve’s favorite, with Max Mayfield being a close second. (from what you had heard, Max could easily be your favorite). Max was dating Lucas Sinclair, who was on the basketball team, which you found out Steve had been coaching for the past few years. Then, there was Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, and Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s brother. Mike was dating Elle Hopper, who was best friends with Max. But Elle’s Dad was getting married to Will’s Mom…
You repeated this little thing over and over in your head, trying to wrap your brain around what could have possibly connected all of these older teens to Robin since she and Steve didn’t even talk until high school, and Steve only dated Nancy in junior year and—Honestly, it was weird, considering you really couldn’t imagine twenty-three-year-olds hanging out with eighteen-year-olds, but you lost all your doubt when you saw how connected this group was—whatever had happened between them, bonded them for life. 
Eventually, the caps got tossed, the principal said a few words, and they were all dismissed. The small group of you waited off to the side, knowing that they were going to all talk to their parents first. Steve stood next to you, and placed a hand on your waist, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. “Tired yet?” 
You laughed softly and shook your head, keeping your head straight ahead because if you turned, you were going to kiss him right on his stupid lips. 
“No, but I am ready to start drinking again.” 
This caused Steve to laugh slightly and straighten up, but his hand stayed on the small of your back until a gaggle of kids in green and white grad robes came running at you all. 
You took a step back watching as hugs and congratulations were thrown out at all of them. It was heartwarming, truly, to see such a family in action. You swore you saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve and Dustin having a lightsaber battle at one point. 
Robin took your hand and dragged you over to the curly-headed one. “Y/n, this is Dustin, Dustin, Y/n. The Roommate.” 
All hell broke loose when Robin announced your title. The children’s heads all snapped towards you and they started to crowd you, which wouldn’t have been as intimidating if you had met them all before, or if they were shorter than you, which a bunch of them were not. 
“You’re her Roommate?” “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh my god, we finally got to meet you?” “You’re a lot prettier in person.” “Where did you get that dress, it’s stunning.” “You came to watch us walk across a stage? That’s definitely a choice…” “I wouldn’t go to Indiana if I lived in a cool place like the city ” “It’s literally so nice to finally meet you.” “You’re like really pretty.” “How did you meet Robin?” 
“Alright Alright! Let the woman breathe my god.” Steve yelled out to the group, as he took notice of your wide eyes. It’s not that you were nervous about meeting them, it’s just that the wave of questions was a tad bit overwhelming and unexpected. 
“Alright.” Steve sighed and looked at you. “Ready?” 
You furrowed your brows. “For?” 
“Well.” Steve started to point to each child as if he was giving you a speedrun introduction. “That’s Dustin, That’s Max and Lucas. Will, Mike, And that’s Elle. Am I missing anyone?” 
The group managed to give Steve a full unison moment of attitude. 
“You still look like such a mom Harrington.” You laughed a bit when he put his hands back on his hips. 
“God I knew I’d like you,” Max spoke up, causing you to smile at her. 
“It’s really nice to meet all of you!” 
They all responded back, at the same time, and then scattered. Whatever initial excitement was there had finally dispersed, meaning you weren’t the center of attention, and you could breathe again. Well, except for one kid, that came up to you. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin doesn’t shut up about you when she’s home.” 
“Good things I hope?” 
Dustin nodded, and suspiciously eyed how close you and Steve were standing. “All good things. But I’m surprised at the fact that you came to Indiana.” 
You shrugged. “Robin asked, so I came. Pretty easy decision. Best friends and all that.” 
“So, are you going to be at Steve’s later?” 
“What’s with the interrogation Henderson.” Steve raised his eyebrows. 
“I’m just asking her questions! She’s new! I can’t just..let her into the group—”
Steve scoffed, “As if you are the final decision maker in that?” 
“Uh, yeah. I am.” 
“Sorry Dipshit. The older half really like her, so she’s in.” 
“The rest of us have to vet her and you know it. Sure, Robin wouldn’t be friends with her if she sucked, but the rest of us don’t know her—”
Dustin eyed you up and down again. “I’ll allow it, but I still need further proof.” 
“Don’t be a dick, Dustin.” Max cut in. “She’s pretty, she clearly can put up with Steve’s shit since she’s willing to stand next to him this long. Why can’t there be another girl in the group?” 
Dustin’s mouth floundered for a moment before he settled on his answer. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just….” 
“Dustin.” You smiled at him. “I’m not asking to infiltrate. I get it. This is clearly a tightly bonded family, and I’m not trying to just waltz in here and take a spot. But let me give you my qualifications and you can mull it over, yeah?” 
This amused Steve. Somehow, you had managed to entertain Dustin, and still manage to deescalate whatever the kid was thinking about. Dustin agreed to your terms and waited to hear what you had to say. 
“First off, unlike Robin, I have a license. I don’t own a car but I live in like the major city of major cities, so I don’t exactly need one. But I can drive. Second. I am not a current permanent addition to the group, at least presence-wise. I am like a fun aunt who will let you stay in the city with her when you want to get out of Hawkins, and I only show up at family functions to spice it up a bit. Third, I have traveled to several different countries in the past two years, which means I can and will bring you back goodies from other countries. Fourth, I know how to party correctly, which means I am at a good time, and I will provide references if you need them. Fifth, and finally. I am over twenty-one, which means, I can and will buy you things that you can’t buy yet. This includes weed from a major city where it is in fact better than the stuff you get here.” 
Dustin was taking all of this in, slightly bewildered by the fact that you literally just listed out your qualifications. 
“Oh. And a sixth one, thrown in for free, I can commit to a bit Henderson.” You winked at him before walking over to where Robin had been talking to Will about something. 
You felt Steve’s eyes on you but didn’t turn around, instead basking in the glory of dropping your over qualifications to win Dustin Henderson’s approval. You integrated yourself into her conversation with Will, enjoying the setting sun in the background. Tonight was going to be a good one, especially since you had decided that tonight was the night you wanted to talk to Steve about whatever was going on between the two of you, especially after everything that happened this morning. 
______________________________________________________________________________
The kids managed to convince Steve to let them throw a graduation party at his apartment. Now this usually wouldn’t be such a big deal, but considering that they all could drink and party now, the space almost felt a bit too small. Especially since they invited some of their other friends that you had not yet met. Which is how you ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, watching all of the kids interact with each other. 
“Hey.” 
You looked over and smiled once you realized who it was. “Hey.”
“Wanna, uh–go into the kitchen with me for a second?” 
You nodded and got up, following him past the decently sized group of people, and into the kitchen. It was not a spacious kitchen by any means, but there was a noticeably smaller amount of people, so it felt a million times better. You could breathe. 
Luckily for you, you had been drinking since before noon, and it was well on its way to being one am. The true sign of a lady is how well she day drinks. You were on the balance of buzzed and tipsy, toeing the line with perfect grace. This gave you the confidence to feel a bit better about the fact that you were someone who was extremely touchy, which Steve clearly didn’t mind. Your hand had made its way to his chest, and you were gently tracing shapes. 
“What’s up, Steve.” 
“I–uh.” 
You watched as his eyes flitted up to where the rest of the group was in his living room. He was silent for a few moments, which gave you time to really look over his face, and enjoy just how gorgeous he was. The curve of his lips. The slightly blush he always carried on his cheeks. The hazelnut color of his eyes. All while you were patiently waiting for him to sort through the words in his head. 
“I’m really glad you came to Hawkins.” 
“Me too.” You smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice for a bit of flirtatious emphasis. 
“Because I had a really really good time in the city with you.” 
You nodded, prompting him to continue talking. 
This caused Steve’s smile to grow, with what you were sure were tints of blush across his cheeks. 
“And I—well, I don’t exactly know what to do beyond this because you live in the city and I live here. And Robin might actually kill me if I ask you out, or if she found out the other things we started to get up to.” Steve was talking as quietly as he could, not keen on Robin finding out the compromising positions you had been in when Steve was in New York. “I know she has probably already said something to you but…I don't know. How do you feel about it because–” 
For the first time in over a month, you were able to actually kiss him, instead of just dreaming about his lips, his mint chapstick, the way his hands felt around your waist. You had placed your beverage down on the counter and cupped his cheeks with your hands, basically pulling his lips to yours.
That warmth from before came crawling up your spine and filled your body with light. Fuck, you wanted to feel this for as long as you possibly could. Enjoying Steve. 
But eventually, your proverbial luck would run out, since Robin cleared her throat from the doorway. She wasn’t exactly staring at either of you, but you couldn’t see her face since you covered your mouth with one of your hands, and wrapped the other arm around your stomach, looking away from her, losing all contact with Steve. Steve had quickly pulled one of his hands away, the other one still on your waist. You weren’t sure if Robin could see that one since your body was blocking it. Steve’s thumb ran up and down your hip, trying to calm you down. 
He could feel your heartbeat racing. How embarrassing was that? 
Even the calming sensation of Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down on your hip simply could not bring your heart rate down to a nice even 120/80. You’re pretty sure your Apple watch just pinged you about an increased heart rate. 
The only worse thing was that Robin had just walked in on you kissing her best friend. 
Her two supposed best friends kissed each other. 
“I–uh–I was going to ask you where Y/n went…but um, I can see you’re both a bit busy…” The sound of your name made you wince. 
Robin’s voice was strained, and she was trying to keep whatever emotions she was feeling at bay. Technically she had said this was fine, but she had never had to witness it or deal with it, in person before. 
 “Robin–”
“No, guys, seriously stop.” Robin took a breath. You could tell this was a bit weird for her, but she managed a brave face for the moment. “We talked about it. I’m okay with it. It’s just…It’s going to take me a second to get used to actually seeing it. Honestly, I just—I really wasn’t expecting to find you guys making out in the kitchen 
“Are you sure?” You finally turned your head and looked at her, more nervous about how she would react to this than anything else in your life. 
Robin smiled at you and nodded. “Really, actually, I’m fine. I am. I just, I’m going to go, um…I’ll be out back with Eddie if you need me.” She quickly left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again, to let out the breath both of you were holding. 
“I thought that was going to head in a way worse direction if I’m being so honest with you.” You muttered, squeezing Steve’s arm. 
“You’re telling me. I almost fucking melted when she first came in.” 
This caused you to let out a brief laugh. 
Steve sighed and rubbed his thumb up and down on your hip again. “I think she needs time getting used to it. We all do.” 
After another moment of staring at one another, the feeling of contentment made your heart swell, shoving some bravery forward and out your mouth. 
“I like you a lot, Steve.” 
He smiled. “M-Me too.” 
“Oh, so you agree? You like you a lot? That’s just what a girl wants to hear, damn.” 
Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No no, I meant I Like you a lot, not that I like me a lot—actually—” 
“Steve.” You cut him off, smiling at him. “I was teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” 
Steve couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face harder if he tried. You watched it slowly reach across his eyes and he shook his head. “I mean it though–a lot. I don’t think that even covers it.” 
You placed your hand on his arm and squeezed it. “Don’t flatter me too much or my ego will inflate like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters—”
“WHO JUST SAID GHOSTBUSTERS.” 
Dustin popped into the kitchen, looking around for the culprit. His eyes landed on you two and his eyebrows raised. “Robin’s friend Steve? Really? That’s the girl you’ve been–”
“Dustin. Enough.” Steve tensed up, cutting off the younger kid. 
“No no no.” You moved out of Steve’s arms and towards Dustin. “Please, Dustin. Tell me more, the girl Steve, what exactly.” 
“Dustin I swear to god—” 
You looked over your shoulder at Steve and winked at him, before placing a hand on Dustin’s arm in a very similar way to how you had just touched Steve’s arm. Now, you weren’t a manipulative person by any means. But men were easy to get information out of if you just knew how. 
You felt Steve’s eyes burning into you, watching your every move. 
“Dustin, do you have a girlfriend?” 
He looked at you weirdly but nodded. “Yeah. What does Suzie have to do with this?” 
“How do you feel about her?” 
Dustin’s shoulders detensed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just tell me about her.” 
Dustin, who basically never talked about Suzie anymore since he didn’t want to annoy the group, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Well! She’s the perfect woman. Smart, kind, snarky, bossy, gorgeous—hotter than anyone ever—sorry. But she means the world to me—.” 
You nodded along, listening to everything he had to say about Suzie, even popping in with clarifying questions, or asking how they met. 
“Wow, that’s a long time to be dating someone so young.” 
Dustin nodded and shrugged. “When you know you know.” 
Steve was just watching you, completely fascinated. There were things Dustin was telling you that he had never even heard before. But he knew you were up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what you were doing. 
You nodded and cast a quick glance back to Steve, who met your eyes. “That’s true.” 
Steve almost blushed at the way you looked at him when you said that, making your eyes soften for a moment. When you know you know. 
“Why did you want to know about Suzie?” 
“I saw you texting her earlier. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for your graduation…” 
Dustin shrugged. “She’s coming up next week for about a month so I’d rather have her for a whole month than just a weekend. Besides, we’re both going to the same college so…I’d rather focus on what we do have than not, you know.” 
“You are very wise for a high school graduate Dustin.” 
Dustin shrugged. “Well, I’ve been saying that for years but now I have the degree to back it up….Alright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ve accepted your application into the group here.” 
“Oh thank you, I was a bit worried there.” 
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Please, you passed the second I heard the word Ghostbusters come outta your mouth.”
This made you smile. “Dustin, one last question, and then I’ll let you go back to your friends—”
“Actually, I’d much rather be in here since you seem a lot cooler than half of the people in there.”
“I appreciate that Dustin thank you. But, my question is. Does Steve look at his phone like that? The way you were describing Suzie…” 
Dustin scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen him so glued to a screen before–”
“Dustin...”
You shushed Steve. “Let the man continue Harington, God.” 
Dustin preened up a little bit at the sound of being called a man, making him continue. “He’s like…I’ve actually never seen him like this before. He’s always checking his phone but he’s smiling at it and laughing at things…oh…You’re good.” 
You squeezed his arm before letting go. “Dustin, I need you to know that I am actually very interested in your relationship with this girl and I do hope I get to hear more about Suzie, I really do. I also appreciated the information you just gave me.” 
“You’re the phone huh.” 
“You’re a Genius Henderson.” Steve glared at him, definitely trying to conceal the embarrassment he was feeling. 
“So Dustin, tell me more about the way he’s been acting.” 
“Henderson if you don’t leave the kitchen right now–”
Dustin took a step away from you. “I like you, a lot, y/n. But I think I’ve done enough damage for Stevie over there, so I’ll leave you alone.” 
You nodded and gave him a little wave as he took off back into the living room. You turned around on the spot, facing Harrington, who was all but embarrassed at Dustin exposing him. 
“You smile at your phone when I text you huh?” 
“Oh shut up, you knew that already.” 
“It’s nice to get confirmation.” Your hands clasped behind your back, and Steve took the opportunity to walk over to you and place a hand under your chin. 
Your breath? Left the fucking building, maybe even the whole state of Indiana. 
“Confirmation that I liked you?” 
He was lifting your chin up with just one knuckle, just enough that your head tilted up to look at him. 
“I feel like what we did in the bathroom was confirmation enough.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “And if not, then kissing you a few minutes ago should’ve been.” 
You hummed, eyes closing, expecting his lips over yours. 
“You just like to tease me, huh.” 
“Steve.” You whined softly, leaning forward a bit, trying to capture his lips in yours. But he just shifted back slightly, not letting your lips do anything more than ghost over yours. 
“I like to tease too, ya know.” He muttered, his other hand sliding back onto your waist, pulling your body against his. 
You hummed, waiting for him to make his move, giving up the little control you had moments before since the prize was a kiss.
But no kiss came. Steve Harrington dropped his hands from your waist and chin, and stepped back, grabbing his beer off of the counter and winking at you. “If it’s a game you want sweetheart, I can play it too.” 
You groaned and watched as he backed out of the room, leaving you once again up against a counter and completely wound up. 
A few hours later, you had found yourself rolling a joint for the older group, basically giving Eddie a masterclass in the art. He was extremely doubtful about the fact that your weed would be better than his, but when he took his first hit, Eddie Munson coughed. 
The small group of you—Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve—all stared at him with wide eyes. You gently took the joint from his hand took a hit from it, and offered it to your right to Steve, who took a smaller hit than you. Since he had smoked with you before, he didn’t cough, much to Eddie’s dismay. 
Jonathan gratefully took it next, muttering something about Cali Weed, which you didn’t fully catch. Eddie turned to you, eyes extremely red. “Jesus Christ Y/n. What the fuck is that?” 
You exhaled slowly, impressing everyone, but Robin, with the amount of smoke in your lungs. “I say this with so much love in my heart Eddie—It’s good weed.” 
Eddie went to scoff but started coughing again, causing you to smile a bit. You felt the first hit in your face, always. No matter how many times, your face was always the first. It felt slightly buzzy, like a current was pulsing through your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You leaned against Steve, watching as the joint made its rounds. 
“Nancy, not a big smoker?” 
Jonathan shook his head, exhaling the smoke over his shoulder to not blow it all in your face. “Can hold her liquor better than any of us though.” 
“I buy it.” You smiled, resting your head against Steve’s shoulder. 
Robin stuck her tongue out at you from across the circle before taking the joint and taking her own hit. 
“So Y/n.” 
You hummed and darted your eyes towards Eddie. 
“You told Henderson that you’ve been to many different countries, like where?” 
“I don't think that would make sense even if I wasn’t slightly high and slightly intoxicated.” You laughed and shook your head. ”But, uh, I don’t know. I’ve been a lot of places. Do you want me to just start listing them until you find one you like? Like those little Rolodex things old ladies have?” 
Eddie nodded, taking the joint from Robin and taking another hit, this time not coughing. 
You sighed and yawned a little bit, taking the joint when it was offered to you. Instead of taking a puff, you passed it on. 
“Alright so, uh, let's see. I’ve been to about twenty states, and that includes Alaska. I’ve been to Canada a bunch. I have been to the Caribbean, so a bunch of those bad boys. Where else…”
“Serbia.” Robin listed for you, causing you to nod against Steve’s shoulder. 
“Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, all three of which are gorgeous by the way. Which then takes me to Europe so uh those countries, plus obviously England, and Ireland, both Republic of and Northern. Then, let's see, France…”
“France was a good one for you.” 
You nodded. “Paris was good for me in many ways.” You made suggestive eyebrows at Robin who then burst into laughter. 
“Then tell us about it.” 
For some reason, you were starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t your biggest fan. Now normally, if a man didn’t like you, you couldn’t find even a singular fuck to give, but this was bugging you. Maybe because he was so close with Robin. 
“Well.” your gaze hardened a bit as you looked at him. “I think I managed to spend a total of sixteen hours in the Louvre during my entire week in Paris. I spent another day seeing the rest of the Musees that I wanted to see, and then I did the rest of the touristy things the rest of the time.” 
“What about the Nightlife?” 
“What about it?” 
“Tell us about it.” 
“Eddie…” Steve warned, feeling you tense up as Eddie continued to poke and prod at you. His words weren’t sharp, they weren’t knives. But they felt like tiny little shoves across your chest. 
“Steve, it’s fine.” You muttered. 
“If you must know, France has good nightlife, but if you want to party, you go to Spain. If you want exclusive yet fun clubs, you go to Berlin. Anyone who’s traveled outside the continental US could tell you that.” Your jaw set, but the smile on your face was a bit devilish. “But Eddie, dear, what I get up to in foreign cities in terms of my sexuality is between me, my phone, Robin Buckley, and the whiteboard in our apartment.” 
Steve gasped. “That’s what those tally marks are.” 
Robin shook her head but then paused. “Well no, not...kinda I guess. But not exactly what you're thinking.” 
“I slept on your couch. You dirty dirty women.” He grumbled, removing his hand from your thigh, except it was just to lean back a bit, not to move you away from him. 
“We’re both extremely competitive when it comes down to the basics. Besides, Robin was the one who started it, she said that she used to tally how many swings and misses you would take at your old job.” 
Steve hung his head and laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh alongside him. “Did she tell you what that job even was?” 
“Oh Scoops? Absolutely. We cut up that stupid fucking costume one year for her Halloween costume.” 
“That was you!?!”
You nodded and took a sip out of the drink you had brought out. “I’m also a costume designer.” You hummed. “Multi-hyphenate.” 
That joke was meant for Jonathan since it caused him to cough on the air in his lungs. “Resume building 101.” 
You mock cheers’d to that and rested back against Steve’s side, his hand moving back to your thigh. 
Eventually, it was just you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve left, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of the stars. You had forgotten how stunning they could be since you had basically lived within the city for the past few years, not really going out to places where you could see the sky. It was just marvelous to you. 
Robin and Eddie stood up to go, meaning you also had to go. But Robin just kissed your head and whispered in your ear before you could stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
You nodded, smiling at her and taking her hand in yours. “I love you, Robin Buckley. Marry me.” 
This caused Robin to burst out in laughter, and she nodded at you. “It’s a date babe.” She said her goodbyes to Steve and left with Eddie who was your ride home. 
The two of you sat together, with you listening as Steve told you about someone, the constellations that he knew, with you lying on his lap, while he pointed out the stars. 
“And that one is Orion’s belt. It’s probably the easiest to spot since it’s literally just three stars in a row.” He whispered, not wanting to break the silence the two of you had created. 
You hummed. “That’s the hunter right?” 
Steve shrugged. “You probably know better than I do.”
You managed to sit up and face him, lips seconds away from him. “And what would make you say that?” 
He shrugged again, no longer looking up at the stars in the sky, but rather at the stars in your eyes. 
Your eyes flitted to his lips quickly, silently asking for permission, which he answered by placing them against yours. Your body exploded like the sun, radiating the peace you had felt all those months ago at the cafe, and then again in the kitchen. Neither of you moved, just sitting together like two lovers would, slowly kissing one another under the universe. 
Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled away, enjoying the sound you let out as he did so. You tilted your head slightly, leaning forward to capture his lips again in yours, but he dodged your lips and kissed your neck instead. His lips found under your ear and kissed there. “Wanna head inside.” He muttered. 
You hummed a positive response, unsure of how the two of you managed to make it inside and towards his bedroom. All you could focus on was the feeling on his lips, on yours, on your neck. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, brushing up your thighs, tugging on your hair. 
But you found yourself backed up against his bedroom door. His body pressed into yours, kissing your neck. “Fuck me, pretty girl.” 
If that’s what he wanted you to do then who were you to deny him that much? Your head lulled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you just moaned in response. Your legs were on the ground, but the only thing really keeping you up against the door was Steve’s knee, which had made its place between your thighs.
Steve’s lips quickly found that sweet spot right above your collarbone and he gently sucked on it, causing your hips to roll forwards and your eyes to roll backward. You inhaled and arched your back the more he sucked on it, nipping it to add some color to his mark. 
Steve felt as your hand snaked its way around his waist, your fingers cool against his skin. You tugged on his shirt, making him pull away slightly and rip his shirt off of his body. 
Both of your hands went to his chest, so you could run your fingers across it, feeling as much of him as you could. 
“Steve?” You muttered as he continued to kiss across your neck. 
He paused and looked up at you. 
“If you don’t do something in the next minute I’m locking you out of your room and fucking myself.” 
He chuckled, pupils dilating at the thought of you touching yourself. But he shook the thoughts away and pulled you in for a kiss. “As you wish, Pretty girl.” 
You hummed at his words, removing your shirt when he tapped on your back and pulled away from you for a moment. 
For some power beyond man, you wore a really cute bra today. It wasn’t lingerie, but it made Steve drool all the same, causing him to groan at the sight. He didn’t stop there though, slowly pulling off your shorts and underwear causing him to kneel down in front of you. You sucked in a breath.
The sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you to eat you out was becoming your new favorite view. 
He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, kissing up your thigh, slowly, looking up at you the whole time. 
He was looking for any kind of hesitation but instead, all he received was a “Fuck, Steve, please.” 
Steve smirked at you before licking up your thigh and gently nipping at it, causing your head to tilt against his bedroom door. 
Steve took his time eating you out. He teased you relentlessly, eliciting every single sound from you he could possibly discover, muttering how much of a “pretty girl” you were into your “pretty little pussy”. 
His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked over so gently. Your hips shifted forward, back on the edge of an orgasm, waiting not-so-patiently for him to make you cum all over his face. 
“Come on baby girl let me taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” 
“P-Please Steve.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, one had in his hair, the other shoved against the door frame for support. 
The heat in your gut was winding up tighter and tighter, causing you to roll your hips, riding his face. Every time your body shuddered, you’d hit Steve’s nose just right against your clit, making you gasp a little bit. 
You moaned his name out, finding yourself closer and closer to the edge as he became more and more relentless fucking you with his tongue and with his words. 
He curled his tongue in the right spot, causing your body to snap. 
Not a single sound left your mouth as you cum on his tongue, back arching against the door, leg shaking as Steve held you up as you came. You felt his tongue working you through, and you could have sworn he moaned at the first taste of you.
Eventually, Steve slowly pulled away, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs. Your high was slowly coming back down and you muttered out a ‘holy fuck’, which caused Steve to nip at your thigh. Still sensitive, you let out a moan in response before yanking on Steve’s hair gently.  
He chuckled, the breath from his lips causing you to squirm a bit. What a sight you must have been: almost completely naked, covered in hickeys and marks, with a man wrapped in between your legs, up against his bedroom door. 
Steve slowly let your leg down, before kissing his way back up, enjoying every little sharp intake of breath, and every little moan that got caught in your throat. He made his way to your lips and it was dirty how much you enjoyed kissing him while he still had you all over his lips. It was obscene. 
“How ya doing pretty girl.” He muttered, arms wrapped around your waist, lips on yours. 
You were blissed out. Every time you thought about what you just experienced, your hips twitched a little bit, and all you could do was use your hands to shove Steve’s lips further into yours. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you happily obliged, opening up a bit more so he could taste all of you. 
When he pulled away so you could breathe, he went back to kissing your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about your taste for fucking months.” 
You swore you could orgasm a second time at that sentence alone. 
Steve’s fingers melted into your skin, and you were sure that there were permanent sun spots where his hand was, forever indicating where his hands should always be. 
You gently pulled on his hair once again, gaining his attention. “Steve.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb up and down on his neck. 
He nodded and reached over, opening the door to his room. 
The two of you slowly made your way to his bed, lips on lips, hands grabbing for skin, wanting more contact than what you had. 
By the time you were on the bed, your skin had become a canvas and Steve was the artist, his lips leaving little marks scattered across your skin like constellations. 
Steve pulled away for a moment, sitting back on his heels, causing you to sit up. You took over his task, slowly unbuckling his belt, looking up at him the entire time. Steve licked his lips and bit his bottom one at the sight of you. 
You slowly pulled it out of the belt loops and then threw it somewhere in the room. Your fingers made their way up his thighs before they popped open the button of his jeans. You could see the strain on the jeans from how hard Steve was, pushing against the fabric.
He groaned as you unzipped them before leaning back on your hands, watching him take them off. You could have sworn you started to drool when you saw his cock. 
His hands almost started you as he placed one beside your head, leaning down to kiss you. 
You didn’t realize that he had been wearing his silver chain this entire time, until it brushed against your collarbone when his lips connected with yours. You felt as Steve slid his knee between your legs, and his other hand cupped your cheek. 
“Steve I–” You muttered against his lips, but he cut you off by kissing you again. 
After a moment, he pulled away, hovering above you. “What gorgeous.” 
“Please.” You whispered, feeling antsy at the fact that you hadn’t felt him yet, that he was barely touching you. 
He smiled slightly. “You have somewhere to be?” He joked, kissing the corner of your mouth. 
You rolled your eyes. “What if I did.”
He kissed your collarbone. “By all means.” 
The top of your chest, above the bra. “Leave then.” 
You let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of his mouth above your chest and closed your eyes. 
“No?” He licked up your neck and nipped at the bottom of your ear. “Come on baby girl, nothing more to say.” 
“F-fuck.” 
He chuckled and slid his hand down to the front of your bra, undoing it with one hand. “Opens from the front…someone was prepping.” 
Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “N-no.” 
He shrugged and took it off of you. “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart.” 
Your nipples hardened at the cool air surrounding you both, and Steve put his hand on your waist, slowly sliding up your side until he could cup your tit in his hand, giving it a squeeze. 
You moaned at the contact but kept your eyes on the scene in front of you. It would be criminal to not watch Steve take his sweet time with you. 
He shifted again, making it so he was able to rest on top of you, and trace designs across your chest with his tongue. It flicked against one of your nipples which made your body jump up against his. 
“Sensitive?” 
“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, one of your hands making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it tightly. 
He rubbed his thumb over the other nipple, flicking it. His tongue went to work, finding out everything that made you feel good, that made you moan. Once Steve had worked you up, he switched his attention to your other tit, his lips kissing across the valley of your chest. 
He was teasing you, watching every single movement of your body and while you wanted to shove him back down to clean up his mess, you couldn’t help it. You had never seen a sight so intoxicatingly hot. His chain dragged around with him, adding to the sensation of his mouth on your skin. 
Somehow from barely moving, you felt like your body was on fire, it was too hot. You felt too good. 
“Gonna take my sweet time with you, pretty girl.” He muttered, kissing back up your collarbone. “Gonna hear every single one of those pretty sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Yeah?” 
All you could do was nod and close your eyes, trying not to orgasm right then and there. 
He tsked and squeezed your waist. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want to hear you.” 
“Yes–yes–please god yes.” Your answer poured out of you before you could even think about it. The only thing in your head was Steve Harrington. Steve’s hips, his ass, his arms, his chest, his lips, his hair, his chain, his stupid fucking smirk. 
You felt him pull away for a moment, and you opened your eyes. He had gotten up and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper somewhere. You watched as he slid it over his cock, which was already glistening with pre-cum, causing him to smirk. 
“I make you excited or something, Harrington?” 
He laughed as he made his way back over to the bed. “Something like that yeah.” 
You leaned up slightly and captured his lips on your own, enjoying the moment of just his lips on yours. 
He hummed and you felt him slowly guide himself to your entrance.  
You’d never spent the whole night fucking someone, until now, and even then, you weren’t sure what you were doing was just fucking one another. Sure it started out like that, but it evolved into something more the second Steve Harrington took your hand in his and pushed into you for the first time, whispering everything he adored about you into your ear. 
A sigh that could be categorized as relief left your mouth when he bottomed out, just letting the both of you get used to the feeling of one another. 
He kissed your jaw before slowly pulling his hips back out. 
You moaned into his ear as he started moving, your bodies moving in sync just like those cheesy books you had read told you. 
Feeling good has never come so easy to you. The way Steve Harrington was kissing you, so tender, with sure care made you want to freeze the world so you could stay here forever, with him. Your moans match up to each thrust, each inhale from when he kisses the sensitive skin right above your collarbone. 
The stars outside shined brighter for you, that’s what you would swear when telling your friends, that the universe quieted and the stars multiplied so you could see all of them as Steve made love to you, whispered how much he adored you, how he couldn’t wait to kiss you the moment he saw you at the airport. How he wanted to see what you tasted like the moment he first met you. 
It was overwhelming, only breathing in Steve, bodies picking up the pace as you simultaneously leaned over the line, ready to snap. 
You begged him, you needed him. His name falling from your lips with every single movement he made. 
His hand slid down your body and slowly started toying with your clit. “Come on pretty, let me feel you. I want to feel you. You’ve been so good for me, so fucking hot baby, let me feel you.” 
It snapped. The coil in your stomach snapped and you came, walls clenching down on him. Your mind went blank and your vision was filled with millions of stars that had floated in through the window and hung in Steve Harrington’s eyes. 
The feeling of you caused him to quickly follow you, hips thrusting into you, making you both ride one another’s orgasms. The sound of his breath, his moans, caused another wave to crash down on you. Your back arched, jaw quivering as your chest lost all of its air. The weight of his body kept you grounded but your mind was in the clouds. 
That calmness you had experienced before settled into your chest. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was no insatiable hunger, no need to go again (at the moment), nothing of the sort. Just a need to become inseparable, to become one whole again from two halves. 
And you could tell Steve felt the same from the way he kissed your cheek and lifted his head to look at you. You both felt it. The feeling as if this was right as if you were supposed to be here with one another, as if it was written in the stars, or read through some tea leaves—you were supposed to be falling in love with Steve Harrington. 
You leaned up ever so slightly, saying everything you possibly could with your lips against his, with no words being spoken. There was no need for them anyway because you just knew Steve felt the same. 
______________________________________________________________________________
You spent the next week, doing your best to split your time between your best friend, and your something new. Robin was actually doing quite well adjusting to the two of you since it felt like this had always been normal. 
The night before you and Robin were set to leave, Steve had taken you out by Lover’s Lake again, remembering how much you loved hearing about the stars. It was breathtaking. Truly the sky felt so vast and so big and you were standing underneath all of that with someone you truly cared about. 
The night didn’t end there. 
The two of you melted into one another in the backseat of Steve’s car. Skin on Skin. Stars collide in your eyes. Hands digging deeper than skin into souls. 
Yet after all of that, you were still too terrified to ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday. 
What Now? 
“I had been, uh, thinking.” 
Steve’s thumb was rubbing against your hip, bringing your focus back to him. 
“And, uh, we have to…”
You nodded. 
“Steve I–”
Steve shook his head. “Let me get through this, yeah?” He whispered, almost like he was scared to even hear his own voice. 
“I-I have been searching for a way out of Hawkins for a while now. I love my friends, but now that the kids have graduated and-and are moving away, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” 
You brushed your hand against his cheek as a sign of comfort, not saying anything. 
“I don’t want you to think I’m latching onto you because you could get me out of here. I need you to know that’s not—I have never felt more sure about anything—anyone in my entire life than I feel about you. It sounds fucking crazy to say out loud, but I swear your touch literally brings my heart rate down. Hearing your laugh is like a fucking drug and, and, I want to spend as long as I can staring into your eyes, memorizing every single centimeter of your body, watching you as you stare up at the stars. I w-want that. I want it so badly. It sounds delusional since we’ve barely spent a full week's worth of time together. But speaking it out into the universe has fucked me over so much in the past. Anytime I’d utter any true want out loud, it’d, uh, it’d disappear. But I can’t—I think I’d go batshit if I couldn’t kiss you every day. What–what I’m trying to say is that—” 
You gently placed your lips on his lips, not having the words in the English language to describe the field of flowers blooming in your chest under the sunshine that was Steve Harrington. 
Steve smiled and pulled away after a moment. 
“You were gonna launch into the sky with the way your mouth was running.” 
Steve nervously laughed and nodded, closing his eyes. 
“I just don’t want you to think that I’m into you because you could be a way out of Hawkins. I need you to know that I’m seriously falling for you and I-I couldn’t be more in awe of you every time I look at you.” 
Your eyes started to water and you shoved his chest. “Fuck Steve. That was…That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” You muttered, burying your face in his neck, to hide the fact that this man just made you so emotional using minimal words. 
The two of you sat there, enjoying the company of one another, whispering sweet everythings in each other’s ears. It was everything to you. His hands on your body, his eyes locked onto yours. The thought of having to leave the next morning had you terrified since neither of you really had any idea how you were going to make this work, but you’d be fucking damned if you weren’t going to try. Steve was worth it to you. He was worth everything. 
And suddenly, because of Steve Harrington, you started to believe that you were worth everything too. 
904 notes · View notes
mochatsin · 7 months ago
Text
When MC has a Cast
A small sequel to the prompt “When MC gets pushed off the stairs”. After that fiasco with those bullies, this now focuses on the short shenanigans that come with the brothers trying to take care of you after you sprained your ankle. However, not all of them are very knowledgeable when it comes to human health care. 
if you haven't read the first part, please do! As there are some parts that is a reference from it (though it doesn’t dwell too heavy on it so it can be read on its own)
Lucifer
If he was already overbearing towards his brothers, then it’s so much more towards you now that you’re hurt. He asked for less work for the time being so he can take care of you after school, a request that Diavolo is happy to grant. Lucifer knows he wouldn’t mind, especially when he says it’s part of his duties to care for the exchange student, an excuse that the royals could see through. Though everyone knows how much he truly cared about you.
He has the power to transform the house into something more handicap friendly for you. Ramps on elevated areas around the house, adhesive stickers in the bathroom so you don’t slip, handles by the walls in case you need it while walking. He was this close to buying you an expensive wheelchair from the human realm that he found online, you had to stop him from doing so since you wouldn’t need it when you’re better.
Lucifer has an hourly alarm on his phone that reminds him to check up on you. No matter what he was doing during the day, he’ll stop and take out his D.D.D. to call you. He asks if you’re feeling any better and if you’re taking any pain medication or prescription pills as needed. He hates how he has to rely on Solomon when it comes to your medicine since they’re only obtained in the human realm, so Lucifer decided to take better care of you instead to make up for the lack of human knowledge.
If you ever said you needed something, whether it would be a snack that can only be bought outside or extra pillows to cushion your leg, Lucifer will definitely make it happen. If not him, then he’s asking Mammon or any brother available to attend to your needs regardless if it’s something for your recovery or not.
“They miss that favorite drink they usually have after school so I need you to go get it before coming home.” Lucifer’s tone is commanding, and if it weren’t for the fact that it was for you then the brothers would’ve made a fuss about his attitude. “I know it’s four blocks away, but that’s what they want. See to it that you come home with it.” He leaves no room for negotiation when he abruptly ends the call, expecting his brothers to come home with your drink.
When you’re finally out of that cast, Lucifer still refuses to let you go up and down the stairs alone. As if you were no longer capable of doing so without supervision. He makes sure you’re always holding onto the rails and that the stairways are always clear so that you don’t trip. You don’t see it, but he’s been more vigilant around you just in case there are more students he needs to keep an eye out for.
Mammon
Knowing that leaving you for just a few minutes already got you in this mess, Mammon decided to be glued to you this time. It’s almost difficult to pry him away from you, and he’s miserable every time he’s separated that he’ll do whatever it takes to run back to your room. To him, he thinks that something bad might just happen to you again if he lays his eyes off you for a second. Sometimes you wake up to a three-eyed crow stationed by your window like a little guard.
Chores and assignments are done in haste, the quality is questionable but it’s honest work. Once he tried to just rush his household chores but due to how poorly done it was, he was separated from you again in order to finish it properly. Now he tries being quick about it but still somewhat passable to standards. The only thing in his mind is how he gets to hang out in your room after this was all done. 
Dishes and cutlery placed on the table where others had more spoons than the rest, the trash bags looked like they were just chucked into the garbage can outside, some clothes wasn’t sorted that Asmo got frustrated when he found his new shirt in Beel’s room where it was mistaken for a rag… Lucifer decided to assign chores that Mammon can take to your room, like laundry folding, to ease his brother’s nerves and lessen the stress he experiences on the daily. 
Mammon often steals stuff from the other brothers if he thinks it’s something that could bring you comfort. Asmo’s scent diffuser, Belphie’s blanket, even Lucifer’s mini record player to help you sleep. They would initially get mad, though they soon see a pile of all their stuff in your room, with you resting so soundly in the middle of it like it’s a nest. As annoying as it was to have their belongings stolen, the brothers let it slide for now.
“Can’t help it aight?! My hands are feelin’ extra grabby these days.” He says as he fluffs one of Beel’s burger-shaped pillows before placing it by your back for more support. Mammon then plops down by your side with a huff, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “That’s why ya gotta get better soon, ya hear me?”
He’s the one that refuses to let you walk around the house. Even if his brothers are there to supervise you, he claims that he’s your first demon so they should listen to him instead! Though it takes a little pout and maybe some puppy eyes from you to make Mammon yield.
Levi
At first Levi was a little agitated since taking care of you meant less time in his room. He always invited you there to hang out, but now with your cast it meant that he needs to adjust and relocate. It’s a small sacrifice if it means he gets to be with you. He’ll just switch base of operations.
Since he spends more time at home in the first place, he’s the one in charge of watching over you while everyone else is at RAD. Being a shut-in has its perks because it means he gets to hang out with you more, though it does a number on his nerves whenever he has to take care of you because he’s afraid he might make your condition worse somehow just by being next to you.
Lucifer already told him what he needs to do. Give you some medication at certain hours, assist if you need to walk or use the bathroom, and make sure you’re comfortable. It’s quite simple. They can’t risk stressing your injuries more, though that stress seems to be transmitting to Levi instead. “Hgnn… getting medication is like a fetch quest a-and assisting is like an escort mission… j-just like in the game.” Is what Levi mumbles to try and hype himself up by associating his tasks with something he loves.
Levi gets jumpy whenever you would walk, acting like you’d get hurt if you took a step with your bad leg. He’s good at keeping an eye out for you whenever you walk around the house because of his anxieties, and giving him bits of praise for taking care of you would usually do the trick of alleviating that. Eventually, he’s calmer when attending to your needs over the next few days. 
He stayed in your room more often and he started gradually moving his stuff there so he wouldn’t go upstairs too often to get something in his room. His consoles, mangas, and games are sitting idly by in the corner of your bedroom so that there’s at least something you both could do instead of laying around. Even when you sleep, Levi is still playing games by your side but with a headset or a lower volume so you wouldn’t wake up.
The brothers eventually noticed how more and more of Levi’s things are appearing in your room. The Akuzon boxes are waiting outside your door instead of his, the latest figurine he bought is displayed in your shelf than on his collection, and they find Levi putting some of his clothes in your closet instead of his. If this went on, they might find Henry 2.0 in your room. Everyone requested a week off from RAD to do some damage control like moving some of Levi’s stuff out. 
Satan
Satan stayed by your side, letting you lie down on the soft bed while he read your favorite passages. He even includes stories about the protagonist recovering from a battle, as if trying to tell you that healing from what happened is nothing to be ashamed of. You shouldn’t feel bad for resting because you need it, and Satan will see to it that you’re fully recovered with no problems.
If you were up for it, he would teach you any of the lessons you’ve missed once he’s home from RAD. He doesn’t mind giving you some of his notes and even writes it in a simpler way just for you to understand easier, even highlighting some key points so you know where to focus or what’s important. Satan wouldn’t want you to lag behind in class when you finally get back to school, but he’s only going to teach you at a pace you’re comfortable with. Your usual tutoring sessions are shorter because he wants you to focus on recovering first.
He’s got his nose glued to the human anatomy books that tackles sprains and muscles, something that Solomon provided after a lot of pestering from the demon’s end. He reads about how to treat it and the duration it would take until you’re fully better. It’s also his way of relieving his anxieties when it comes to your ankle so he can convince himself that you’re no longer suffering.
If you ever let out a grunt for whatever reason, expect Satan to suddenly be by your side asking you if you’re experiencing any of the symptoms he’s somehow memorized in his head. He’s being cautious if you might’ve accidentally aggravated your wounds and require any necessary medical attention, so he would sit you down and bombard you with questions about your condition. A brother would often have to rescue you before Satan gets halfway with his queries. 
“If I don’t know any of these, then how would I tell if you need some help? There’s power in knowledge, you know.” Satan says as he flips through the pages of the thick medical book on his lap. There’s this determined look on his face where he wants to make sure to cross out all the symptoms of any possible ailments. “Now, are you experiencing ‘explosive diarrhea’ by any chance?”
Satan is the one that makes sure that all his other brothers would be useful when it’s their turn to take care of you. He takes note of when you need your next medication, reminds them to refill your water bottles, and how they’d have to check on you for each minute if they had to. If any of them caused you problems, no matter how big or small, Satan would be ready to chase them down for doing a poor job as soon as they left your room. 
Asmo 
Asmo is treating you like an absolute damsel sometimes whenever he sees you limping around the house with your crutches. He also hates that you need to stay home for bedrest since, as he notes, you get to see him less during school days. He loves spending time with you as much as he loves staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Since you’re not around in school, Asmo is always ready to fill you in on the cheesiest gossip like he always does during lunch time or your after school walks. Now he goes straight to your room, placing his bag to the side before dramatically plopping down on your bed with more news. Weirdly enough, some of that news was about those girls that pushed you and about how they’re both fighting more recently. You even notice how big his smile is as the story progressively gets gruesome.
“Just because my darling is stuck here doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be updated to the latest scoop, right?” He says with a grin, showing you the latest tweets about the topic. “Don’t worry, you can always rely on me to give you the juiciest gossip.” This is his way of hanging out with you like how you both would at school. Whenever he wants to talk about something with you and remembers you’re not around yet, he gets a little lonely and he makes up for that feeling when he comes home.
Asmo would want to put his name on your cast once he learns that it’s something humans tend to do. It’s written all over with a pink glittery pen accompanied by little hearts on the side, maybe a little sheep doodle next to it too. The brothers were not happy to learn that he was the first one to write his name on your cast and then insisted on putting theirs next.
He insists on playing the role of ‘Nurse Asmo!’ whenever he’s trying to take care of you, complete with a play-pretend stethoscope for the role (Solomon gave it to him). Normally he wouldn’t come near someone who’s sick because he doesn’t want to catch whatever they have, that wouldn’t look so good on him. Luckily, yours isn’t contagious at all. Asmo would insist on feeding you and there’s the occasional teasing, but it’s all in good faith. 
Asmo also makes a great alert system. You once almost tripped but managed to hold onto the desk, and that was enough to make Asmo let out a high-pitched scream as he was worried your ankle must’ve gotten worse, maybe it’s not healing at all if you almost fell. It alerted every brother in the house and you not only have to deal with a worried Asmo, but now six more anxious demons as well. 
Beel
Beel feeds you foods high in nutrients. He’d even run to the stores to get you those sorts of foods if it meant you’ll heal in no time. Of course, he’s mindful of getting nutritious foods you actually like eating. He wants you to be both healthy and happy. 
“Here, Solomon said milk helps with healthy bones.” Beel says while carrying an entire box filled with jugs of milk. Clearly he means well, but you have to explain to Beel how drinking and eating things high in calcium doesn’t magically heal your ankle (it’s also worse if you were lactose intolerant). He’s a little disappointed, but he’ll understand. Beel could either drink them or give them to Luke as ingredients for his baking. 
Whenever Lucifer asks the brothers to run errands for you, whether it's something for your ankle or for your comfort, Beel is usually the first one to respond and he’s already out the door before any of the brothers could intervene. He likes hearing your gratitude when he does something for you, even if it meant he had to fly across Devildom to get you that ice cream dessert or just walk to purgatory hall to fetch something Luke made for you.
The brothers had to convince him that you wouldn’t shatter if he gave you a hug, but he wasn’t sure if he could. If the stairs already hurt you, what more for a demon like Beel who could bend metal like paper if he wanted to? He was too afraid at first to touch you, but you could see just how much he wanted to hold you. It takes only a few words and a pout from you to make the demon fold. 
If Beel would have to bulldoze everything to clear a path for you then he would. In case there was a bunch of furniture or other things all across the floor, Beel would chuck them aside to make sure you won’t have a hard time walking or risk bumping your leg onto something. Though Lucifer reprimanded him for literally shoving every couch aside just to make room for you and then forgetting to put them back properly. The house wasn’t a pleasant sight to come home to at that time.
Beel’s next solution was to help you with that ankle was to carry you around so you could get to places. You’d be in his arms bridal style while he takes you to the dining room to eat with them. He would even stop eating from the mountain of food from his plate if you needed to stand up, Beel would attend to you right away and take you wherever you needed to go. 
Belphie
Belphie is not the most reliable brother when it comes to taking care of you, not when his excessive drowsiness gets in the way of actually remembering what to do. He wouldn’t be able to wake up in time to give you your medication, or have enough energy to assist you whenever you needed to use the bathroom or just get up to walk. When you needed his help with something, at some point he forgot about your cast and told you that you can do it on your own. His older brothers definitely scolded him for that and the tasks were assigned to someone else instead.
The only role that was given to Belphie was something he can easily do, which is to make sure you’re comfortable and well-rested. None of them wants to see you walking around too much, even with your crutches, as they worry that something could happen while they’re away. They fear you might fall over and won’t be able to get back up, so Belphie is in charge of keeping you in bed and making sure you don’t move more than you need to. 
Whenever you sleep next to Belphie, you always feel so refreshed and rested afterwards no matter how long or short you slept. It’s the demon’s doing, where he makes sure you have the sweetest dreams and get enough sleep so that you’re energized. Belphie thinks that getting more energized meant that your ankle would heal faster, so he’s always trying to drag you in for naps.
For the moments that he’s actually awake, he would be ‘fixing’ your bed so that it would be more comfortable to sleep in. There are three times more than the usual number of pillows on your bed, with extra comforters and better quality blankets. Each time he comes home, he’s fixing your bed and sometimes he adds pillows on it or replaces your old ones. 
“I only have these because I was preparing a little fort for us back at school…” Belphie is a little quiet when he speaks, trying to pass it off as being too busy fluffing your pillows but in reality he just doesn’t like remembering what happened that day. “But since you’re stuck at home, it only makes sense I bring the fort over here right?” 
The only thing that upsets Belphie at this situation for now is the fact he can’t lie down on your lap like he could every time he wants to use you as a pillow. Beel had to remind him that it might hurt your ankle if he laid his head on your thighs. Even though you tried to explain that it’s not necessarily true, the twins insist on making sure nothing would hinder your healing. 
271 notes · View notes
lyn31 · 7 days ago
Note
My cutiepie serena 🥹 serena pressing her ear to mc's belly and saying that the babies talked is so freaking adorable omg. Why do i feel like she'd be very involved during mc's whole pregnancy too, she'd want to say good morning, good bye when she has to go to preschool, good night and spending time with the babies like reading her favourite book for her brothers and feeling their movement and being so fascinated when they move and then asking a lot of questions hahaha (i mean she's zayne's child so..)
On another note do you think between the three kids, would there be any of them that would lean towards one of the parent more? Like more of a mommy boy etc.. i mean i believe the three of them would love their parents equally but maybe like they find more comfort in mommy / daddy? Sorry if this question is weird hahaha it just occured in my mind 🤣
Omg I’ve been playing Infinity Nikki so much in my free time… Sorry for the delay in delivering your craving—hopefully you’re still into it! 😔🫶🏻
Also, I could’ve answered the second one ages ago, but y’know me… if I don’t have a reminder, I will forget. Anyway! I always imagined Lucas being closer to MC and Callum leaning more toward Zayne, just based on their interests. But obviously—no favorite parents in this house 🫣😂
As for Serena, I did think about it! I feel like she’d be pretty evenly split since her interests pull from both parents, but maybe slightly more aligned with Zayne, especially considering what she studies later on. But closeness? Everyone’s close in this household 😂🫶🏻 shuuuushhh it's fine 🤭
Oh—and here’s the fic! I know you technically didn’t ask, but I remembered how I felt reading it the first time and thought, “I need this.” So enjoy, everyone! Let me know what you think 👀💕
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Big Sister Serena
Summary
You watch Serena step into her new role as big sister with fierce love and quiet devotion, her every word, drawing, and lullaby a tender promise to the siblings she’s already protecting with all her heart.
Ao3 link
My Masterlist ✨
Notes
Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Family fluff/feels, big sister serena, parenthood AU, more focus on OC!child, cute, sweet and family time wooooo!
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You’re barely awake when the mattress shifts beside you.
A small weight climbs onto the bed and crawls toward your middle, careful and quiet. Then her voice—soft and warm with sleep—murmurs right against your belly.
“Good morning, babies.”
You open your eyes just enough to catch the top of Serena’s head as she presses her cheek gently against your bump, her fingers fanned out across the curve. Her breath is a little uneven, still waking up, and she doesn’t speak again right away. Just listens.
“I think they’re still sleeping,” she whispers after a while. “Or maybe listening.”
You smile and brush a hand through her messy hair, tucking one loose strand behind her ear. “Maybe both.”
She tilts her face like she’s giving your belly a second kiss, and then leans back to study it with that quiet reverence only she can give. Her eyes flick between your bump and your face.
“They’re getting big,” she declares with a nod, “but not too big yet.”
You laugh softly. “Not too big yet,” you echo, and let your hand settle over hers. “You always check first thing.”
“I have to,” she says matter-of-factly. “What if they’re waiting for me to say hi? It would be rude.”
She shifts forward again and rests her lips near your navel. “I’m going to preschool soon,” she tells them. “But Mummy will be here. You’ll be fine. Okay?”
Then she sits up and looks at you seriously. “Can I come back and talk to them when I get home?”
“Always,” you say, reaching up to kiss her forehead. “They already love hearing your voice.”
Serena beams, proud and quiet, and climbs off the bed with a soft grunt, ready to start her morning now that her most important morning ritual is done.
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You’re still in bed, propped up on your side now.
Serena trots back into the room with her backpack bouncing behind her. Her steps are quicker than before—morning excitement catching up with her—and Zayne’s steadier footsteps follow just a few moments later.
“She packed her lunch and double-checked it,” he says mildly as he steps into view, already dressed in his usual crisp button-down and rolled sleeves. “Also inspected mine.”
“Daddy’s sandwich has enough tomatoes now,” Serena announces, very proud of herself.
“Barely,” Zayne murmurs, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he doesn’t really mind.
Serena crosses to your side of the bed and scrambles halfway up again, planting her palms carefully to avoid your belly. She leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, then turns to your stomach gently.
“Bye-bye, babies,” she whispers. “Be good today, and don’t push too hard if you’re kicking. Mummy needs to rest.”
You stifle a laugh behind your hand, your eyes meeting Zayne’s over her head. It still amazes you—how naturally she slipped into this role. Like she was always meant to be someone’s big sister.
Zayne is standing at the foot of the bed now, quiet—watching—but his lips curve slightly.
“Okay,” Serena says with finality, hopping down again. She scurries over to Zayne and lifts her arms automatically.
He picks her up without hesitation, like he always does, adjusting her on his hip even though she’s getting heavier by the week.
“Say goodbye, too,” she insists, tugging on the collar of his shirt.
Zayne raises an eyebrow at her, then glances down at your belly like he’s considering the request a little too seriously. “Goodbye, little ones,” he says in that low, even voice, one hand brushing gently over your bump. “Your sister’s running on a tight schedule this morning.”
“She’s not running, she’s being carried,” you point out, amused.
“Logistics,” he says, deadpan, and kisses your forehead before straightening. “We’ll see you this evening.”
Serena leans toward you as he starts toward the door, one more wave thrown dramatically over his shoulder on her behalf. “I’ll read to them later!” she calls. “My favorite book!”
Then they’re gone—soft footsteps down the hall, the front door opening and closing—and the house feels quieter but still warm.
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The afternoon light spills across the floor in golden streaks, casting warmth over the quiet living room. The soft glow makes everything feel calm and cozy.
A small plate of crackers and sliced fruit sits untouched on the coffee table, a half-finished cup of tea cooling beside it. The snack is there, but you haven’t had the chance to enjoy it yet.
You’re curled on the couch, legs stretched out and a pillow tucked behind your back, one hand resting over the familiar swell of your belly. You settle in, comfort wrapping around you as the quiet stirrings of life continue inside.
The soft hum of a farming game plays from the TV, the console in your hands guiding virtual crops to grow and animals to care for. The game moves with a soothing rhythm, offering a moment of calm.
The sound of the front door opening breaks the rhythm. Serena steps inside, quiet but quick, placing her shoes neatly by the door as she shrugs off her jacket. She doesn’t speak right away—just makes a beeline for you, her steps light and purposeful.
Zayne follows behind at an even pace, setting their coats on the rack and slipping out of his shoes. “Welcome home,” you say softly as Serena drops her school bag with a soft thud and climbs onto the couch beside you, immediately curling into your side without a word.
She rests her cheek on your belly, quiet and close., still silent, then gives a careful pat, her fingers lingering in a way that feels almost reverent.
“She told Miss Lila the babies are coming soon,” Zayne mentions from the hallway, dryly amused. “And apparently gave a full report on their current bedtime story rotation.”
You lift a brow, matching his tone. “Well, someone has to keep the public informed. Our in-house PR representative is clearly taking her job seriously.”
Serena doesn’t respond to that, but she shifts slightly, casting a glance toward the shelf where her favorite picture book still sits. Her hand lingers on your belly, but her eyes are focused—hopeful.
Zayne catches the look and is already on the move, retrieving the book she left on the shelf yesterday—her current favorite, the one about the sleepy bear who can’t hibernate until he finds the perfect blanket.
“Remind me to review her press releases before she leaks anything else,” he says to you as he offers the book to Serena with a soft look.
You snort, finally pausing your game. The controller stills in your hands as Serena takes the book with both of hers.
Zayne leans in to press a kiss to your temple before quietly taking the console from your lap. He sets it aside properly, powering it down and tucking it into its charging dock. “I’ll get dinner ready,” he says softly, already heading toward the kitchen.
You put a hand to your chest, voice lilting with theatrical flair. “Oh my, thank you, good sir. However shall I repay such gallant service?”
Zayne doesn’t even look back—just rolls his eyes with a soft huff of amusement as he disappears into the kitchen, the fondness in the gesture unmistakable. Then you add, “Anything but the soup, please.”
He gives you a thumbs-up, with the most serious expression you’ve seen on him, making it all the more difficult to hold back your laugh.
Serena settles more snugly against your side as your arm curls around her, like she’s already used to the way both of you acts around each other.
“Can I read to the babies now?” she asks, her voice soft but full of that quiet determination you’ve come to recognize.
You nod, adjusting the blanket over your legs as Serena opens the book on her lap and shifts her focus to your belly. Her finger traces each word as she recites them—half reading, half reciting from memory—pausing now and then to point something out to your belly.
“That’s the bear,” she murmurs to your belly. “He’s very picky.”
From the kitchen, Zayne’s voice floats in. “Sounds like someone else we know.”
You send him a look over Serena’s head. She doesn’t react, too focused, lips moving a beat ahead of the words like she already knows what’s coming.
She pauses. Her hand stills. Then, slowly, her palm presses more firmly over your stomach
A movement. Just faint—but enough.
Her eyes widen.
“They moved,” she whispers, barely blinking. Then, to your belly: “That was you, wasn’t it?”
“They like your voice,” you say softly.
She leans in immediately, wide-eyed, both hands pressing carefully over your bump. “Was that their foot? Or their elbow?” she asks in a rush. “Can they hear me for real?”
“They can,” you say. “They probably know it’s you by now.”
Her face lights up, and leans down like she’s whispering a secret. “Hi again. I’m your sister. I’m going to read to you every day, okay?”
From the kitchen, Zayne’s voice comes lightly. “That’s a legally binding promise now.”
Serena glances up at you, then back at your belly. “Even when they’re born, I’ll still read. Even if they cry a lot.”
You blink a little harder than usual, heart tugging at the look on her face—the pure wonder, the certainty in her voice. You brush her curls back as she settles against you again. “You’re already doing a perfect job.”
She nods, content, and turns the page—soft words filling the quiet, your heartbeat steady under her cheek.
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It’s a quiet weekend afternoon, the kind where sunlight spills soft and golden through the windows, casting everything in a warm, sleepy glow. Your home feels comfortably full today, the air buzzing with easy laughter, the low hum of chatter, and the occasional crash of virtual explosions from the living room.
The corner of the couch cradles you comfortably, one hand resting over your belly as your thumb strokes a soft, absent rhythm. Beside you, Rose leans back with a mug of tea balanced on her knee, amused eyes flicking between you and the chaos happening in front of the TV.
Caleb and Zayne are seated on the floor, shoulders tense and leaning forward, eyes fixed on the screen.
Zayne has a controller in hand, posture relaxed but eyes laser-focused. Caleb leans forward like the stakes are life-or-death. Between them sits Willow, eight years old and deadly serious, thumbs flying across the buttons with practiced ease.
“Papa! I told you,” she says without looking away from the screen, “I don’t need help.”
“You're welcome for the cover I gave you!” Caleb says, laughing as his character gets KO’d again.
“You ran off a cliff.”
“That was strategy.”
Normally, you’d be right there with them—controller in hand, irrationally passionate about pixels and deeply offended by Zayne’s poker-faced fighting game skills. But right now, your emotional stability is about one accidental defeat away from tears or homicide, so you’ve opted out.
Rose seems to understand. “Retired from violence, huh?” she asks quietly, smirking behind her tea.
“For now,” you murmur. “I’ll return when I can trust myself not to cry if someone picks my main before I do.”
Behind you, at the dining table, Jace and Serena are deep in a much calmer competition. Crayons and pencils sprawl across the surface, a small army of open marker caps forming a colorful battlefield. Jace is working on a very detailed picture of a robot wizard riding a dragon. Serena, meanwhile, is drawing your family.
She’s added you first, a very round version of you, which honestly feels accurate. Then herself—smiling and holding hands with two soft-edged baby blobs. Zayne’s tucked in the corner, inexplicably holding what looks like pancakes. You're not going to question it.
Serena hums under her breath, a soft, familiar tune. One Zayne used to sing when she was small, usually while brushing her hair or bouncing her to sleep in the middle of the night, and you pick it up from him as well.
She frowns down at her drawing and starts writing, lips moving as she sounds out the letters. She’s slow with it, careful. The words wobble across the page like tiny caterpillars, but they’re all hers.
“Go to sleep, my little star…” “Mommy’s here, not very far.” “Close your eyes and dream of light…” “I will hold you through the night.”
She pauses, then adds a bubble from one of the baby blobs:
“We love you, Big Sister Serena!”
Jace glances over at Serena’s drawing. “They look like potatoes.”
“They’re not potatoes,” Serena huffs. “They’re my baby siblings.”
“They don’t look like babies.”
“They’re in the belly! They’re not born yet! Obviously.”
You watch them bicker gently, a hand smoothing over your bump. The babies give a soft nudge in response, like they’re listening in on the gossip.
“She’s very protective,” you murmur to Rose.
“She should be,” Rose says. “She already has the attitude of a tiny bodyguard. I heard her tell a stranger at the grocery store to step back from her ‘siblings in progress.’”
“She’s serious about it,” you admit with a soft laugh, your eyes wandering as you continue.
“Every morning, she says good morning to them before brushing her teeth. And at preschool drop-off, she kisses both sides of my belly just in case they’ve moved overnight.”
“You’re not gonna survive once they’re all walking.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Across the room, Zayne lets out a rare laugh as Caleb makes some dramatic “final stand” declaration—and promptly loses. Again.
“She beat both of us,” Caleb says, defeated.
Willow beams. “Papa’s strategy is bad.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
You close your eyes for a moment and listen. Willow is joining Serena and Jace now, and the three are soon comparing crown designs for the baby blobs, Jace is adding a tiny bird in the corner of his page.
Caleb lets out a triumphant cheer as he finally wins in another rematch against Zayne, whose only response is a huff, and Rose shifts closer to bump your shoulder in a quiet gesture of companionship.
The day couldn’t end much better than this.
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The day winds down slowly, like a music box running out of spin.
Caleb, Rose, and the kids leave just after dinner—hugs and waves and promises of a rematch already being made before they even reach the door. Serena looks a little reluctant to let go of Willow and Jace, but exhaustion is creeping into her every blink, so she doesn’t protest when Zayne scoops her up to carry her to bed.
Her soft voice echoes down the hallway as they disappear. “Good night, Daddy. Good night, Mummy. Good night, babies.”
The house feels quieter without the extra bodies, but not empty. Just peaceful. Settled.
Later, the lights are dim, the house finally still, and you’re lying in bed with your head sunk into the pillow, the weight of the day pressing pleasantly into your limbs. Zayne is in the shower, humming something under his breath—something soft and familiar.
Beside you, Serena stirs.
She’d come back not long after she’s gone to her room and asked to sleep with you tonight, and you hadn’t hesitated to say yes. Maybe it’s the quiet after the busy day, or the way she clung a little tighter during her goodnight hug. Either way, you couldn’t say no. Not when she whispered, “I think the babies like it when I’m close.”
Now she shifts under the covers, wriggling over until her forehead touches the curve of your belly. Her hands spread wide over the bump, as if trying to feel everything at once.
“Are they sleeping?” she whispers.
“They might be,” you murmur back.
“They were listening earlier,” she says, confident. “When I was drawing. When I sang.”
“I know,” you smile, brushing her hair back from her forehead. “They really liked it.”
“I can sing it again.”
You nod, eyes soft, and she closes hers, voice barely above a breath.
“Go to sleep, my little star…” “Mommy’s here, not very far.” “Close your eyes and dream of light…” “I will hold you through the night…”
Her voice falters on the last line, but she hums the rest, lips pressed to your belly, lashes fluttering. And you realize she’s fighting to stay awake. Just for them.
You don’t say anything. You let the quiet stretch and hold the moment steady, your palm covering hers, your other hand stroking her hair in a rhythm so slow it could be mistaken for stillness.
You glance up as the door opens. Zayne steps inside, towel draped over his shoulders, hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He pauses when he sees the scene—Serena curled up against your bump, one hand still resting over it, eyelids fluttering.
Your eyes meet his. No words are needed.
He crosses the room slowly, quietly, bends down to press a kiss to Serena’s head, then to your lips. “Need anything?” he murmurs, voice low so he won’t disturb her.
“Just this,” you whisper.
He brushes his fingers along your arm before moving around to the other side of the bed and slipping in behind you. His arm curves around your waist, his hand overlapping yours where it rests over Serena’s.
The three of you breathe in time for a while.
The babies shift again, soft little nudges from the inside. Serena sighs, content.
“Love you, babies,” she murmurs.
And the room, just for a little while, holds all the warmth and quiet and love in the world.
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Notes
Ugh I love my family 🥹🫶🏻 All my children are happy so I'm happy! I was also thinking of writing her reaction on the twins when they just born but I shouldn't say anything unless I did it right away lol Well see y'all next time! 💕
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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago
Text
Daddy's here, buddy (Lewis Hamilton)
A look into the Hamilton household now that they are a family of three
Note: english is not my first language. After a long time on hold (I know it has been a while, like, a really long time), I'm finally posting this one. I won't blame you if you have left, especially since it took me so long, but if you're still around, I hope you like this, anon!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions pregnancy, postpartum (difficulties walking, breastfeeding, soreness)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
As soon as Lewis was able, he flew straight back home, promising Toto and the rest of the team a detailed written debrief he worked on while he was on the plane.
When he landed, one of your friends was there to drive him straight home, "they are both doing well so the doctor discharged them this morning, they watched the race at home already with your mum", she smiled, noticing his antsyness, "we'll stop by my place so you can have a shower and change clothes, and then you'll get to meet him. I know I'm biased, and you'll be too, but he's the cutest little boy ever", she smiled, reassuring him that everything was well underway and that they were being careful with the baby's health.
"Carmen, can I have some water, please?", Lewis heard you call for his mother as he walked through the stairs that led the garage to the living area of the house, seeing the older woman pour the liquid into a mug and bringing it to you along with a straw.
"Hey, look who's here!", you smiled, handing the mug back to your mother in-law when you finished sipping from it.
Lewis walked closer to you, rubbing his mother's arm before he kissed the top of your head, taking a peek at the bundle in your arms. Baby Noah has been sleeping against your chest, pillowy lips agape without another care in the world, but he seemed to stir as he felt his father's presence in the room.
"Someone wants to meet daddy", you cooed as Lewis sat next to you on the sofa, arms expectantly held out as you transferred the baby to his arms.
Taking the baby wrapped up in the beige blanket and placing him on his chest, Lewis let one of his hands rest on his son's back to hold him close.
"Hey Noah", he whispered, looking up briefly to see his mother and wife smiling at them, "You were slightly early, weren't you? Daddy wasn't here when you came earthside, and I'm very sorry for it, but now we have all the time in the world", he whispered, softly touching his cheek and moving to stroke his head, feeling the soft baby hair.
Noah looked up at him as tears filled his eyes, "I couldn't wait to get home to you and mummy. I'm sure a lot of people want to meet you, I got told that much in the paddock", he smiled at the beautiful boy in his arms. "It's ok", Lewis whispered as the baby started getting fussy, opening his mouth and squinting his eyes closed as he cried loudly.
A quick look at the clock made you suddenly reach your arms out for your crying little boy, "he's hungry, it's just about time", you nudged, cradling him to you and kissing his forehead.
"I'm going to go, dears, leave you in your newborn bubble", Carmen smiled, "if you need anything, and I mean anything, call me, okay?", she checked, kissing your head and Lewis' before squeezing her grandson's little hand softly, "goodbye, baby boy, behave well for mummy and daddy, okay?".
After she saw herself out, you undid the top buttons of your shirt, unfastening the bra cover so you could feed your little boy, "That's it, good boy", you cooed, feeling your husband's eyes on you.
"We watched the race, congratulations on your podium", you smiled, your hand squeezing your husband's thigh once you balanced your baby on the feeding pillow.
"Thanks", he breathed out, "I still can't believe he's here, that he's ours", he shook his head, "we have our little boy here with us.
"Thank you for doing this for our family, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner", he expressed, kissing your lips softly as Noah whined, "daddy can't kiss mummy, now? Oh, this is going to be interesting!".
.
"Am I doing this right? I think I am", your heard your husband say to your son as you started to wake up, "looks secured enough. Hopefully we won't have any explosions and nothing comes out of here".
Your hissing while trying to pull yourself up announced you were awake as your husband turned his torso slightly to face you, "mummy is awake, little love", he beamed, finishing popping the buttons on your son's clothes so he was comfortable.
By the time you found a way to pull yourself up and against the headboard, Lewis was sitting next to you, ready to pass Noah into your arms so you could feed him, "are you still feeling sore?", he asked, kissing your cheek.
"It's not as bad as yesterday", you assured him while you moved your boob so Noah could latch, ignoring the sting as his lips met your sensitive skin, "my back feels fine, but moving my legs might be tricky still", you offered.
"The midwife said that would be expected, so we'll just keep an eye out for anything serious, yes?", your husband said as you took the opportunity to rest your body against his naked chest, his arm going around your shoulders and softly tracing shapes on your bare skin.
"Can you burp him while I use the bathroom?", you asked as Lewis as he got up, burping him while standing up as you slowly got up as well, waddling to the en suite bathroom.
"Are you going to sleep now, little one?", he cooed, rocking him to sleep once all of the air trapped in his tummy got out, "you have a clean nappy, full tummy, and daddy needs to go and make sure mummy is okay", he chuckled, "with time, you'll see it takes her a while until she asks for help even though she's usually been needing it for way longer".
"Lew?", you called from the bathroom, "yes, darling?", he called back as he knocked on the door softly, asking for your permission to look inside, "I need to have a shower, but I don't trust my legs to keep me up, and sitting on the floor is not a good idea so, like - do we even have a stool I can sit on? -, I need something to support myself on", you asked.
"Noah is asleep, I can leave him here, in the middle of our bed, keep the door open and help you with your shower if that's okay", Lewis offered, "if I look around, I might find something, but I'm not sure we own a stool that can be put in water".
Weighing your options, you waddled back to your boys, kissing Noah's forehead and looking up at Lewis, "you don't mind helping?", you wondered.
Lewis placed Noah on the bed, making sure he was in an angle where you could see him from the bathroom, "c'mon, shower time, darling", he soflty nudged.
He turned on the warm water as you undressed yourself, disposing the underwear safely in the bathroom bin and walking into the shower compartment, thankful that Lewis insisted you needed a wide and ample space for it as it now perfectly accommodated the two of you once he had no clothes on either.
"Is the temperature good?", he asked and you nodded. Your body didn't feel wrong to you, just new, and Lewis seemed to be on the same page, tracing your hips and tummy softly while you wet your hair.
By now, the routine was so engraved in your lives that Lewis knew which steps followed which, only stopping when you needed to support yourself on him, to steal a few kisses or take a peek of Noah.
"Now he's sleeping well", you muttered chuckling as you wrapped a towell around your body, accepting Lewis' hand as he took you to the bedroom, "I have your underwear ready with those witch hazel round pads to help with the soreness", he added.
Helping you put them on along with the rest of your clothes he gathered from the drawers, your husband left a trail of kisses anywhere his mouth was close enough to your skin as he dressed you, "how about a nap? Noah surely kept us up so we could do with some sleep", he smiled, pulling you to lie against his chest while you cradled your son against your own chest.
.
"I know, baby, I know", you gulped, grabbing the silicone covers for your nipples while bouncing Noah on your bent legs, "mummy is trying to make this better for both of us, hopefully this works", you tried, fitting the piece and pulling Noah to you, encouraging him to suck.
The specialist had told you that using the covers would help you in days where the skin was extra sensitive, but its continuous use could mean that Noah would have to work harder to get his milk in, leaving him to get more tired and eat less, ultimately making him drop his weight.
"Hey, darling, I'm back", Lewis called from the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets as he stored away the things he bought from the shop.
"In the living room", you croaked out, holding the tears that threatened to fall as Noah seemed to drift off to sleep, "ah-ah, baby boy, you have to eat more, otherwise you won't grow", you groaned, taking off the silicone piece and biting your lip as his lips made contact with your skin directly.
The tears you worked on keep at bay fell down your cheeks as Lewis walked inside the living room, "hey, darling, I - what's the matter?", he checked you over, sitting next to you as you looked up at the ceiling.
"It hurts, a lot", you cried, "the only way it doesn't hurt is if I have these on, but with them he won't eat, so I have to compromise that", you allowed him to wipe your cheeks, "what a great mother I am, talking about compromise when I am feeding my baby", you scoffed at your own words.
"Hey, it's okay to talk about it if it hurts, darling. I'm so, so sorry, I wish I could do something to take that pain away", he comforted, kissing your cheeks as he pushed your bodies closing together.
"I will rub the cream afterwards, and we can try the silver nipple covers, we haven't done that yet", he suggested, his hands tracing shapes on your skin and squeezing the area, hoping to distract you from the pain you were feeling.
"I'll put him to sleep, okay? You can go and freshen up, darling", Lewis said as he bounced Noah on his arms after burping him, giving you time to use the bathroom and get a little bit of fresh air.
After splashing your face with water, you lightly dabbed the towell on your face before walking to the kitchen, opening the door that lead to the back garden and standing in the sun for a few minutes.
It was easy to get lost. A lot of people, specially the ones who were brutally honest about the whole experience, told you that much. Not out of spite or because they wanted to scare you, but rather because they cared enough to tell you about all of it. It was easy to lose yourself because all your focus was on your baby. Truth was, if you lost yourself, your baby would end yo suffering, too, so the whole situation required balance. Right now, the sun rays hitting your skin seemed to tip the scales to an even line.
"He's asleep already", you heads Lewis say, baby monitor on hand hand and another one with a cup of tea for you, "here, beautiful", he offered.
"Everytime I look at his face, I can't believe we made him. Such a perfect baby, how is he ours? But, it's also a lot sometimes", you breathed out, letting go of the guilt that was consuming you and recognising that you could love your family unconditionally and still admit that things could get hard. One didn't override the other.
"It's okay to admit that", Lewis said, pulling you to rest your back against his chest, "but we'll go, day by day, see what it brings us. You're doing so well, Y/N, you've been so strong for our family", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "will you let me take care of you now?", he wondered, guiding you back inside for a little pamper session.
.
"Your tummy really is troubling you, isn't it, little one?", Lewis said as Noah didn't seem to settle down, cries and whimpers leaving the little baby's mouth as he rocked him back and forth, "should we try those massages daddy was taught in the baby classes?".
Laying Noah on the changing table, Lewis unswaddled him before holding his legs, "first we go into frog mode", he chuckled, pulling the little legs into position before wiggling his hips and tummy, "the nurse in the baby classes said to wiggle a little, and apparently you are very flexible at this point, so you're like putty almost. It's a bit scary, but you seem to be doing better, right buddy?", he said, noticing he was passing some gas already and his whimpers had died down.
As you came out of your shower, you watched the replied on your son's face as the noise coming from his diaper confirmed the reason from his previous pains, "Oh, that was a big one!", you giggled, approaching your boys as Lewis grabbed a new diaper, "I'm on it!", he said, kissing your cheek and taking care of changing Noah.
"Do you want to go on a walk this afternoon?", you wondered, "I feel a little better ans I want to start being a little more active. Nothing crazy, but rather a nice way to leave the house", you suggested, being met with your husband's sparkly eyes, "of course, darling. I'll get him a new outfit, we're going to be matching!", he smiled as he noticed the colour pattern you were going for.
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emilysidhe · 8 days ago
Text
People love dichotomies.
One of the dichotomies people love inserting into Jane Austen is “marrying for love” vs “marrying for money.”
We have a chicken or egg question here about if people read this into the text so much because so many adaptations add dialogue that lays it out, or if so many adaptations add dialogue that lays out such a conflict because people love to read it into the text.
But if you read the books themselves, it just isn’t there. (This is why the occasionally bandied criticism that Austen “gets out” of having to make a choice by having her heroines “conveniently” fall in love with men who have enough money to marry on is irrelevant - that’s not what’s going on).
Instead, across her works, Austen presents marrying for love and marrying for money not as a dichotomy, but as opposite ends of a spectrum in which the rare extreme ends are each foolish and almost everyone negotiates their way through the space in the middle.
You see, to make a “good” marriage in the Austen-verse, you need a trifecta. And you do need all three - if you try to justify skipping one by maxing out one of the others, things will not end well for you.
The three things you need for a good marriage are these:
Personal compatibility and mutual respect
Financial stability within your social class
Positive feelings towards each other
You do not need love! Love is just a max-out on positive feelings, and while all her heroines find romantic love in marriage in the end (these are love stories), it’s not portrayed as necessary - Marianne Dashwood marries out of respect and gratitude and falls in love afterwards, and we don’t know about most of the minor characters, but there’s no reason to suppose that all minor character happy marriages we see are love matches. The Gardiners, for instance, could have married on simple fondness and the mutual desire to form a household, and they seem perfectly happy.
You do not need wealth! Wealth is just a max-out of financial stability. Plenty of heroines (Elinor Dashwood, Catherine Morland, even Fanny Price and Anne Elliot) marry men with respectable incomes but no land-holdings or vast riches.
I can’t think of an example for the third piece - if there is a couple in Jane Austen who are maxed out on mutual respect and compatibility, it’s the Crofts, and they also like each other and have enough to live on.
But if you’re missing one leg of the three-legged stool, you are in trouble!
Fanny Price’s parents married for love, but had no money - and they both seem pretty miserable when we see them again.
Maria Bertram marries for wealth alone, with no affection or respect for her husband - and it makes her life a train wreck.
The Bennet parents seem to have been a love match (why else would he marry a woman of no family who used to be a great beauty) and he has enough to live on whether she brings in a dowry or not. But they are not compatible and don’t respect each other, so their marriage is still kind of a disaster.
The closest example we have of someone seeming to get along ok without all three is Charlotte Lucas, who marries for financial independence, and while she’s more compatible with Mr Collins than she seems at first blush (they’re both unembarrassed to suck up to Lady Catherine), she has no positive feelings towards her husband, but still seems to be alright with her choice. And yet even there, the narrator warns that she may not always have as few regrets as she does now.
Any time you try to look at the various matrimonial decisions made by Jane Austen characters through a lens of love vs finances instead of considering whether and to what extent a marriage might check all three boxes, you’re doing it wrong.
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ahhnini · 10 months ago
Text
midas touch - rafe cameron x fashionista!reader
synopsis - based off this ask!
moodboard ⋆·˚ ༘ *
word count - 1.4k
warnings - oblivious!reader, bestfriend!rafe, flirting (from rafe), alcohol consumption, fluff, slow burn, not proofread!
a/n - i diverged a little from the request, but i hope you still enjoy! <3
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you snap a mirror pic of your outfit for the day, putting up a caption, then uploading it to your instagram story. you fix any wrinkles from your outfit before heading outside to meet up with your friends.
“there’s our little influencer,” kelce says as you enter the cameron household. you smile and roll your eyes playfully, sitting down on the couch, “to be fair, I never thought my account was gonna get popular,” you shrug before continuing, “but it does feel nice knowing that people around the world like my outfits.” rafe comes through the back door, four beers in his hand. “we still waiting for top?” “yeah, should be on his way, though,” kelce replies as he puts an arm around your shoulder. rafe hands you a beer while you lean on kelce’s shoulder. you don’t miss the look rafe gives you. his gaze becoming sharp. you clear your throat as you open the can and take a swig.
as soon as topper arrives, the hangout officially begins. this was a tradition between you four, once a week you would hang out at each other’s houses.
this “tradition” started a long time ago. at first, it was just you and rafe. you remember how he defended you from your bullies, how he had been so selfless, despite everyone saying he was the opposite. you remember how his kind blue eyes would glance at you during homeroom, to make sure you were all right. you noticed how during lunch he would sit in close proximity to you, just in case anyone would try to be a bother.
you were shy when you asked him if he wanted to hang out with you outside of school for the first time. fingers fidgeting, voice soft and eyes looking down. you thought he was gonna laugh in your face, but when he said yes, you felt something spark in your heart.
rafe eventually became friends with topper and kelce, and the four of you clicked together like missing pieces in a puzzle. the summer after you graduated high school, you started a fashion account on instagram. posting various outfits, recommendations, and making get ready with me vlogs. you were hesitant, but the guys assured you that you had nothing to worry about. they were right, and everyone absolutely loves the content that you post.
after your account started blowing up, people from the obx found out and started following you. it made you slightly insecure at first, thinking they had been following you to poke fun at your content. but when you realized that you had started setting fashion trends across the island, that insecurity dissolved.
topper jumps off the roof into the cameron pool, splashing the three of you. “so stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head and smiling at him as he swims to the surface.
midnight struck, you were outside with a blanket wrapped around you. you all sat in a circle, eating takeout while gossiping — yes, gossiping, about the new family that moved into figure eight. it was the guys’ guilty pleasure, though they’d never admit it.
you scoffed at their endless conspiracies, deciding to just listen. you take a deep breath, crisp air hitting your nostrils. topper and kelce stand up, announcing that they’re going home. you, however, don’t want the night to end, so you ask rafe if you can stay over. thankfully, he says “yes, of course.”
both of you snuggle on the couch, rafe breathing the scent of your hair in as he not so sneakily peeps at your screen. you check your socials, and see that engagement is going up. rafe softly speaks, “how does this work?”
“hm? what do you mean?”
“do you get free stuff?”
“sometimes. but I mainly post things I already have,” you shrug.
rafe makes an ah sound before putting his chin on top of your head.
this felt…intimate. none of the other guys would be this physically close to you. you quickly brush those thoughts away, concluding that rafe is only this close to you because you’ve known him the longest. you put your phone down, leaning against rafe’s chest. this felt so natural for some reason. closing your eyes, you fall asleep, rafe loosely hugging your waist.
the next week, you were sunbathing in the sunny skies of saint-tropez. you had been invited to paris fashion week, and you had some free time after the event. however, you missed your friends, and you were texting them 24/7. you were replying to something topper said in the group chat, when someone approached you. good lord, he was attractive. he smiled at you, pearly whites adorning his face. you swore you could’ve heard church bells ring. “hey, mind if I set up my towel here?,” he asks, voice smooth and sultry.
“go ahead,” you move your sunglasses to the top of your head, taking a good look at him.
“i’m johnny,” he sticks his hand out.
you smile and say your name.
“are you from the states too?” he asks, quirking his head over to the side.
“yeah — north carolina,” you clear your throat, suddenly becoming nervous.
“oh cool, i’m from Illinois,” his eyes run up and down your body, and your cheeks grow red.
you two banter for a couple of minutes, before johnny bites his lip, as he asks for your number.
you smile and give it to him, he does seem like a nice guy after all.
the humidity of the outer banks is painful. turns out, when you came back, there had been a heatwave going on. to add onto that, the ac at your house broke down. so here you were, back at rafe’s, waiting until your cooling system gets fixed.
“how was your trip?” he asks, bringing out popsicles from the fridge and handing one out to you.
you beam at him, “absolutely amazing. I was freaking out over how many designers I met.”
“damn rafe, we don’t get one?” kelce says, laying down on the cold tile floor. “get one yourselves,” rafe gruffly replies.
topper and kelce glance at each other, wiggling their eyebrows. you don’t see it, but rafe does, and he scowls at them.
topper calls out your name again,“why’d you stop texting us halfway through our trip?”
“yeah, did you run out of data or something?” kelce questions.
“um—yeah, so…” you trail off, looking at the ground. “I met someone, and we really hit it off,” you smile, and the two boys make an ooooh sound, teasing. you continue, “yeah, we’ve been talking for a week now, and he seems like a chill guy,” you chuckle. “so sorry I ghosted you guys.” “you’re good, just, rafe was gettin’ all pissy when you wouldn’t answer,” topper sprawls across the tile. “shut up, top,” rafe groans.
“c’mon, don’t act like you were about to hop on a plane yourself to go visit her,” you giggle at topper’s teasing. you found it endearing that rafe cares about you so much. guess he’s still the same boy after all these years.
“rafe, I hate him!” you scream into your pillow. “I know sweetheart,” rafe gently rubs your back, sighing. after a month of talking, you and johnny decided to meet up again. in new york. it was stupid, meeting up with a guy you’ve met in real life once. he played you, hard. he had completely flaked on the meet up itself and ghosted you. money wasted and heart broken, you sulked on your bed.
“am I stupid, rafe?” you ask, tears staining your cheeks. “no, sweetheart. a bit oblivious, yes. stupid, definitely not.”
you sniffle, rafe handing you a tissue.
rafe whispers, “i’ll beat his ass for breakin’ your heart.” you know he didn’t mean it, but you shake your head regardless. sitting up, you face him, “he doesn’t deserve your time anyway.” he smiles, eyes crinkling, “that’s the spirit.”
there’s a sparkle in his eyes. without knowing it, you lean closer to him. you feel him breathe, soft breaths hitting your face. you don’t stop, tilting your head and pressing your lips against his. oh god, what have you done?
he kisses back, arms wrapping around your waist. your mind moves a million miles per hour. you tangle your hands in his hair as he lays you down, crawling on top of you.
“are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? you know, our relationship’s gonna change after this, no going back,” he says breathlessly.
he’s so beautiful. taking a deep breath in, you blissfully say,
“yes.”
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divider by sseuda on tumblr
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obxsummer · 6 months ago
Note
Oooo what about a blurb/fic od the 18 months where the reader is finally getting her chance to recover from the events at the Cameron’s house/with singh/everything lol and it’s just night after night nightmares. Screaming everyone awake and such?? Can you elaborate
love love love this thank u for the request!!
also requested: I have a routledge reader idea, you mentioned nightmares she had during the 18 months, maybe John B being the one to save her from them. Basically rocking her as she screamed bloody murder. Sometimes not even nightmares just night terrors she couldn’t escape. Maybe him forcing her into going to see a therapist but it just makes her worse until the therapist suggest a family meeting and more and more of the ab*se and torture comes out she experienced
series masterlist
- -
The nightmares had been going on since you escaped the Cameron household with JJ almost three (?) years ago now. (bro can this show give a better timeline a girl is struggling)
There was no surprise you were haunted by the near-death experiences and trauma you had been through with your friends and by yourself. Whether it was Rafe, losing John B, or watching your friends disappear from your eyes, sleeping wasn’t easy and it wasn’t kind to your mind.
Obviously, the events at El Dorado, watching your father die in front of you, and watching people get shot, were hard to wrap your head around. It was like the sight was burned in your eyes and every time you tried to rest, your body couldn’t forget. 
The hospital had recommended therapy after stitching up the bullet wound from South America, and although you considered it heavily at the time, you didn’t fully commit. You’d gone to a few welcome sessions, and one individual before the cost aspect came in, and that’s where you were no longer interestd.
JJ caught you first, which made sense. The bags under your eyes were dark and you were a shell of a human at that point. JJ hadn’t realized you were slipping out of bed at night to stare at the stars, falling victim to the voices and images in your head. It was one off night where he’d been rattled by the thunder and lightning of a storm and he realized you were curled up in the hammock out on the covered balcony. Figuring you were enjoying the storm, he moved to join you, but the tears and soft sobs told him so much more.
John B witnessed the worst one.  The group was pulling an all-nighter on the shop prep before opening day and you’d dipped to take a quick nap before rejoining. John B had never had his heart drop so violently when he heard your scream. It was so deep and terrifying that he was sprinting up the stairs by two each to get to you as fast as possible, fearing the worst. 
He had never seen you in such a state, like sleep paralysis had taken over and left you silent. John B didn’t hesitate to wrap you into his hold, pulling you into a sitting position and lovingly crushing you between his arms. Seconds felt like hours before you relaxed in his embrace and the first sob left your lips. 
John B didn’t know what to do, but he was there, and that’s what mattered. 
He let it go for a few weeks, checking in with JJ when you weren’t looking to see if anything got better. When it didn’t, he practically carried your ass to therapy, claiming the gold had a loose enough budget to accommodate a few sessions. You felt guilty about the whole thing between cost and timing of someone taking you, but John B and JJ reassured you multiple times not to.
“You deserve to take up space in this family,” John B had told you when you refused to get out of the van at the third session, claiming there were more important things that needed to happen. “I know you don’t agree with me, and you probably never will, but you deserve to heal from this, too.”
And then came the arguments that you could push through, that everyone in the group likely needed therapy anyway. John B didn’t let that one last long, arguing that nobody else was waking up with screams besides you and occasionally, JJ. 
You were stubborn, and after everything, you didn’t want to let your walls down to strangers. Then, you’d found a friend (term used very lightly).
Sofia was volunteering at the sessions, but given the fact that both of you were Pogues, you’d at least clicked somewhat after talking. Neither of you talked outside of the 30–60-minute sessions, but you were grateful for the familiar face when you walked in the room. Little did you realize how much that would come to bite you in the ass.
You learned how to talk yourself out of an anxiety attack, and to acknowledge you needed to cope with this stuff on an individual basis. As much as you loved your friends, you couldn’t rely on them to fix this for you. 
The last individual session had been a shit show. The recommendation that John B come sit in with you was not a welcomed one, and although you loved your brother so much, it was hard to be emotionally vulnerable while working on building independence. 
John B had his guesses of what happened when you were with the Camerons, and then again when Singh had taken you off the beach. And while he didn’t want to pry, there were millions of questions he’d had about everything that happened. The way you shut down in the hall at Tannyhill, the screaming, the shying away from someone’s touch. 
You’d taken a lot of shit from your dad over the years, but John B’s never seen you so small and scared in your life. 
While the session was pretty much useless, and almost broke into an argument when they tried to manipulate you into answering things you didn’t want to discuss, you were done. You told John B to never bring you back again, so he didn’t.
He wanted to fix all of it, to fill the promises he’d given you over the years and be the older brother you’d deserved for so long. You were both teenagers at the end of the day, but God, you could barely act like one with everything you’d gone through.
One day, you’d spill everything to your brother...come clean about the scars, visible and hidden, that would forever stain your skin and soul. And he would listen, cry, and be there for it all… because that’s what big brothers do.
That’s what John B had promised. And he was done breaking promises.
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girliism · 11 days ago
Text
the after
-
the change wasn’t instant, it took time. it wasn’t just about them and whatever years of repressed feelings they needed to work through. art and tashi had a image. a family. a life. patrick couldn’t just waltz right in and take a place.
it was gradual.
starting in new rochelle. the three of them getting tangled up in the soft sheets of art and tashi’s penthouse bed. adrenaline from the game previously played still coursing through them. it was like muscle memory the way they moved together. just as seamless as that first time when they were younger.
art cried that night.
alone.
in the bathroom.
he didn’t know what would happen tomorrow when the high of it all wore off, when they all would come back to reality. he really didn’t want to find out.
he like it here. where tashi loved him again and patrick was back in their lives.
-
patrick was gone before tashi woke up.
her head hurt like she had spent the previous night drinking, and there was a dull ache between her thighs.
“he left?”
art’s voice sounded.
“yeah.”
art watched his wife slip out of bed and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
neither of the them talked about it after.
they greeted their daughter, who had spent the night with her grandmother, at breakfast. she talked animatedly about what the two of them got up to last night while shoveling pancakes into her mouth.
tashi kept her attention on her phone, throwing little comments in here and there. the sports news was buzzing with what happened yesterday. the tension between tennis star art donaldson and an unknown patrick zweig was felt by everyone. they all wanted to know more.
tashi closed her phone and turned to her daughter “lily, baby. i need you to go to your room with grandma and start packing up, ok.” before lily could start pouting about wanting to stay another day her grandmother came to collect her.
it was quiet, before art spoke up. “i think we-” only to get cut off
“the reporters are speculating about your come back after yesterday’s game. we should capitalize on this. start training up again when we get back, get you ready for the open in august.”
“i told you i was done.”
it was silent again.
“art-”
“tashi. please.” art looked at her right in the eye like he did the other night. only this time tashi saw him. “…ok. ok.” she ran her thumb on the underside of his eye. wiping away the shed tear. “ok.” she repeated. so that he knew she ment it. art turned his cheek into her hand letting his eyes close before standing up to go check on lily.
the conversation she had with patrick couldn’t help up play in her head. he was right to an extent. she wasn’t ready to give up tennis, not yet. she picked up her phone that felt like heavier than it is. her thumb hovered over patrick’s number. she felt sick, texting him after he just left them like they some random hookup.
so she didn’t.
-
it’s been a two months. two quiet months in the dondalson household. art still wakes up way earlier than needed, his body was just too use to it. and tashi has been trying to take on new players, but none of them had what she needed.
“it’s not gonna work out.” tashi entered the house through the slide door, taking place on the couch. spiderverse was playing on their living room tv, again. “what was wrong with this one?”
this was the fifth player tashi’s turned down in three days.
she left out a tired sigh. “he didn’t have it.” none of these players had it. she didn’t feel anything when she watched them. “maybe next time mama.” lily comforted her.
“maybe.”
tashi really didn’t want to, but she was getting restless. patrick was good player, but he could be great player. he just needed discipline.
to: patrick.
still need a coach?
-
patrick’s check from new rochelle lasted him two months. he was able to stay in a motel for awhile giving himself a break from sleeping in his cramped backseat. but it didn’t last.
declined.
“shit.”
he swiped it three more times. it still declined.
the guy behind the counter gave him an annoyed look. patrick didn’t bother staying to plea with him, just accepted it. pocketing his card and leaving the corner store. his sandwich and snapple left on the counter.
he parked out side of national park, switching between signing up for other challengers and swiping thought tinder waiting for a match. he hated this part, where he had to play cause he was too broke not too. it didn’t matter if won the whole them for not he was getting paid just for entering.
a ding from his phone broke patrick from the tiny nap he slipped into.
april :) has matched with you! swip to chat.
he wiped
to: april :)
hey, cute pictures. wanna meet?
it’s the same message every time. sometimes he’ll care enough to throw in a how are you.
from: april :)
thanks x.
how’s tonight at 8. meet here?
location.
to: april :)
great, i’ll be there ;)
-
patrick got there first. he sat at the bar, not bothering to get a table. they wouldn’t be staying long anyway.
“hi, patrick right?”
she had on a sweet smile, and her hands were soft against patrick’s.
“hey, this is a nice place. how do you know it?” he asked, referring to the restaurant they’re in right now. “oh, i come here sometimes with my roommate.” patrick’s face fell slightly at the mention of a roommate. april seemed to have noticed cause she was quick to add. “but, she’s out a town right now.”
“nice.”
a few dry conversations later patrick was fucking her on her apartment kitchen counter. she was moaning loud, too loud. it was kind of taking patrick out of it. he closed his eyes can tried to block it out, and focused on getting her to cum so he could go to sleep.
from the back of his mind memories from new rochelle made their way to the front of his mind. and all the sudden it wasn’t the skin of a random girl he was touching, it was tashi’s. the fingers in hair tugging weren’t skinny and soft they were thicker and calloused. they were art’s.
“fuck.”
he came before she did. before she could point it out, patrick sank to his knees.
she let him stay the night, and use her shower. her sheets were so soft. patrick was knocked out the second he laid down.
-
he woke up to the smell of food cooking, and would be stupid not to stay for breakfast. he gave her a goodbye kiss with the empty promise of seeing again.
once back in his car he checked his endless notifications. a few from tinder, emails confirming his attendance at the challengers she signed up from, and one text from… tashi?
from: tashi
still need a coach?
-
never in a million years did patrick think he would be on his way to california to meet with tashi.
they have been texting back and forth for a week, strictly about tennis. she mentioned how she’ll give him a chance and to come to cali. then he mentioned how he doesn’t have the money for that. which led to tashi cash apping him. now he was on his way, their address placed into his gps.
driving up to the donaldson house had patrick’s eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. it was huge. you’d think he’d be use to seeing such a lavish home, but it’s been awhile. the gate separating their home from the outside world opens letting him drive his car into their driveway.
he felt so fucking nervous. he sat in his car for a good ten minutes before he got out. his knocks rapped against the wooden doors before he rang the doorbell.
tashi answered the door. he caught a quick glimpse of the inside, and he could see art standing off in the background.
“you get one week, don’t make me regret this.”
and he didn’t. he worked his ass off all week. woke up and crazy hours, drank whatever disgusting up smoothies tashi gave him, he cut back his cigarette intake, and only interacted with the donaldsons on a personal level. until the youngest donaldson approached him.
“are you gonna be the one?” a little voice suddenly spoke, waking patrick from his relaxed state.
“what?”
“no other player has stayed this long. so, are you the one?”
he didn’t know how to respond to that. and before he had to art came running from the main house to the pool house where he was staying. “lily! you can’t just run off. your lunch is ready, go i’ll met you back at the house.” he sent her off with a soft pat on the back of her head. “sorry, she’s been really eager to met you.” oh? patrick shook his head. “it’s fine. she’s uh- cute kid.”
patrick hated being alone with art. it was different from being alone with tashi. with tashi he could just fall into easy banter. neither of the thinking about what happened, but with art it’s like ever unspoken word and thought made it’s self known.
“you’ve um. you’ve be doing good patrick. tashi has really been noticing the work you’re putting in.” art said. patrick huffed an exhausted laugh. “she better have. been kicking my ass.” he joked, which in turn earned a chuckle from art. “just don’t go on and get too cocky the weeks not over yet.” art was gone before patrick could respond.
finally the week was over, and the three of them were seated across from each other. art and tashi on one side patrick on the other. patrick felt like he was in detention, and tashi was the principal with art as her dutifully assistant.
“patrick.” tashi started. “i wanna continue working with you.”
“i understand, sorry i disappointed you- wait what?”
“i wanna continue working with you. which means everything you gave me this week, times it by a thousand. your first challengers in a week. don’t fuck up.”
and for once in his life he doesn’t. he didn’t get lazy in the second half like usual and basically throw the game. he pushed through. he lost but at least he played a good game.
tashi put him in challenger after challenger, some he won some he lost. the tennis world had their eye on him. some nobody that the tashi donaldson took and rose up. and when his rank was finally higher to jojn an open, covid hit.
-
“so what it canceled?”
“a complete lockdown has just been announced, of course it’s fucking canceled.”
tension was high. in tashi’s mind she’s got a giant shadow from her past that’s she just put so much time in effort into for what is now seeming like no reason. to patrick, he’s counting the days when she realizes that this lockdown will be something hard to come back from and kicks him to the curb. art just feels like a kids again watching his parents fight, so much that he wanted to say but too afraid it’d be the wrong thing and he’d make things worse.
“look, we don’t know how long this will last. we could only be looking at a month, two max. before you know y’all be at the next open.” art finally said, trying to ease some of their nerves.
he couldn’t have been more wrong. it only got worse from there.
“should we let him stay here?”
patrick has been confined to the pool house, and them to the main. the practices have stopped. they hadn’t seen him in a week.
“why?”
art shrugged at tashi’s question. “i don’t know. i mean it’d be an easier way to stop the germ spread. have us all in the same place.” tashi cocked her head to the side and gave him a look. she could see right through him. “i think you just want an excuse for him to be closer.”
“what.”
“art. it’s ok new rochelle happen and we never talked about it after. and then i invited back into our lives. it’s ok to want to want him.”
she could see art visibly relax. whatever weight he was carrying from the night getting lighter at the knowledge that tashi understood him.
that night the two of them walked hand in hand to the pool house.
when patrick opened the door they both had to stop themselves from staring at bare chest. “yeah?” he snapped them both from their trance. “we uh… we wanted to ask if you’d like to come up to the main house. to stay.” patrick’s eye flickered between them. “to reduce the spread of germs.” art added. “you can say no.”
“yes.”
-
they put him in the guest room down the hall from their bed room. he came to every breakfast and dinner. lily even started inviting him to family movie night. things were getting incredibly domestic and it scared them how quick and easily it seemed to have happened.
“tashi will kill you if you come to the movie smelling like that.”
patrick looked back to see art stepping onto the patio to join him. “i’ll shower.” he answered, letting smoke blow out his nose. art’s body moved before his mind, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling the cigarette from patrick’s lips and slipping it between his own. he took a long drag holding it for a moment before blowing out the smoke, letting his shoulders sag down.
“fuck, been needing that.”
“now you’ll have to shower too.” patrick took the cigarette back.
“yeah. maybe i’ll join you.”
they both bit back a stupid grin.
-
tashi couldn’t take it anymore. they all need to talk.
patrick felt so out of place standing in the middle of their master bedroom. art was sitting on the bed and tashi standing off by the bathroom door.
“we need to talk.”
tashi broke the uncomfortable silence.
patrick knew what was coming next. “i’ll start packing up-”
“why’d you leave us that night.”
the elephant has been addressed. he wasn’t here so they could kick him, yet, they want to talk which is probably worse.
“why’d you leave without saying anything?”
patrick scoffed. “what, you wanted me to wait around til you both woke up so you could kick me out?”
“that’s not what would have happened.”
“oh, i’m sure.” sarcasm dripping from his words.
“we wanted you to stay.” art’s voice interrupted them from going back and forth. “but you always think you know better than what people want. you never even gave us the chance.”
“to what.”
“love you.” tashi spoke up. “god, you’re always so fucking difficult… i invited you here because yes, i see potential in you, but also because when we’re all together it’s like everything makes sense.”
the two men were silent. they’ve never heard tashi speak so vulnerability.
“i saw something in art come back when you played together. i felt something come back in me. jesus, patrick we need you ok. we need you in our lives not just as a player we’re coaching but as ours.”
“please say something.” art said.
patrick gaped at them a little longer letting her words skink in.
“yes. fuck yes.” was all he needed to say. “i don’t care if it’s too early for, but i love you guys.” he moved fast towards tashi pulling her in for a kiss that caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered. backing him towards the bed where art still sat. the three of them fell into a rhythm similar to the one in new rochelle except this one was slower, they enjoyed each others company.
when morning came patrick was right in the middle where they left him.
-
happy anniversary
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tainted-liquor · 2 years ago
Text
'I Have A Girlfriend! ₊‧.°
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Post-Anesthesia!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader ᧔᧓Ingredients: Crack, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! zᶻ∘⋆TWs: Menace Miles, N-word usage, Cussing, Jeff abuse, me brushing up on Spanish ⁺˚⋆W/C: 1k! ♡⸝⸝A/N: Crackfic abt post-op Miles 😝 I spent 20 minutes trying to get tumblr to work on my fuhkin computer. No images but dividers idc
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"Miles, Put your tongue back in your mouth!" Mrs. Morales urged as she pulled him back on the couch. "Ay, Dios! ¿Cuándo te poniste tan pesado?" She huffed, flopping back on the couch. Miles didn't answer, groaning in frustration as he slid halfway down the sofa in protest. "MamiiiiiiiiiI!" He whined in a shrill voice, gauze muffling his every syllable. "Yes, Miles? What is it now?" Mama Rio asked, her tone laced with amused irritation.
"Dónde está mi novia?" He muttered as the top of his head smushed against the glazed hardwood floor. "She's on her way Miles, calm down you're not supposed to talk too much…MILES! NO NO NO!" She urged as she watched her son attempt to spit out the bloody gauze tucked into the back of his mouth. There were three soft knocks at the Morales's door, with Mama Rio sighing in relief as she opened the door to reveal your smiling face, your eyes widening as you heard Miles's low groans of disproval in the background. "Hi, Mrs. Morales! Is he…okay?" You asked quietly, peering your head through the front door as you watched Miles inch slowly off of the sofa. "Hey, sweetie! Oh don't worry about him he's…being dramatic…" she trailed off, slowly gazing at her son who was now folded in half on the floor.
She giggled quietly, stepping to the side as she permitted you entry into her warm and inviting home. You made a B-line for Miles, scooping the liquid boy up under his arms and laying him back on the couch. "Hey, my love! How are you-…Aht! Nigga!?" you began, eyes widening in shock as he shushes you, grabbing your face in his entire hand as he barely held his eyes open. "No! I…Have a girlfriend!" he slurs, doing a half-crunch to be eye level with you as he attempts to make eye contact. You laughed quietly, gently easing him back to his resting position. "I am your girlfriend!" You chuckled, watching as his eyes widened as wide as the anesthesia would allow them to.
"Muñequita! Te amo tan mucho…" He exclaimed, engulfing you in a surprisingly lethal hug that left you tapping his forearm for release. You nodded avidly, loosening his arm slightly so you could comfortably breathe before slipping away from his grasp to go help Mama Rio with some household chores. You spent around 20 minutes making small talk with her, talking about how his procedure went, how long it would take to recover, and a bit about how much of a fool he was acting just minutes before your arrival. You giggled as you gossiped like school girls, perking up when you heard the front door swing open. "Oh, Hello Mr. Morales!" You greeted, waving a hand energetically from the kitchen sink.
"Hey! Thanks for coming to check on…Miles." He begins, head slowly turning towards his son who was now face down and completely on the floor. He was babbling absolute nonsense, singing songs in the completely wrong key to keep himself distracted as he attempted to find his footing. You rushed over to him, Mama Rio holding up her camera and covering her mouth to silence any giggles that threatened to break free. "C'mon, Vamos a recuperarte…that's it…" You grunted, lifting a very zooted Miles off the ground, knees buckling as he leaned his head on your shoulder and rested every pound of his body weight against you. You gasped, nearly falling over before Jeff quickly grabbed Miles, attempting to throw him over his shoulder and get him to his room. Everyone fell silent as a loud *pop!* noise was heard, Rio laughing as loudly as humanly possible while Jeff winced in slight pain. Miles put all his strength possible into popping his father, remaining groggy and unafraid as he gave his father a sleepy but stern glare. "Who the FUCK are you nigga?" he garbled, feet dangling in the air as Jeff held him up under his arms just above his head. He gave him the most livid glare that would've sent sober Miles into a coma, sighing and shaking his head as he mumbled to himself. "Yeah, that's it alright. Grounded for TWO MONTHS!" You lost all composure, wheezing and cackling on the floor as you watched Jeff angrily swaddle Miles in his hoodie, tying the sleeves of the red cotton together in a makeshift way to make sure his arms didn't move again.
You and Rio struggled to find your air as Jeff threw him down onto the couch, wrapping two blankets underneath the cushion and around Miles to hold him in place. Miles cried loudly, screaming as his life depended on it as his father put his hands on his hips, giving him one final glare, and walking away. You struggled to breathe as you got up and patted Miles's head, hooting and hollering as you wiped the remnants of tears from your waterline. You were just about to calm down, taking deep breaths as you stabilized your lungs. "Oh, hey, Kitty!" you cooed, glancing over at the family cat as he jumped up on Miles's chest. Miles squinted at the small ginger cat, taking it in for about 10 seconds before screaming. "WOAH WOAH WOAH WHATS WRONG!?" You asked, watching as Miles's face contorted into one of genuine horror. The cat was now long gone, swishing off into the hallway to take several deep bites of food. Miles was still screaming, babbling incoherently about some sort of 'overgrown rat' being on his chest. You lost it once more, head and chest throbbing as you laughed yourself into hysteria. You cuddled up by your boyfriend, shushing him through tears as you peppered gentle kisses to the side of his face. "Miles! Calm down, okay? It's literally your cat!" You giggled, patting his face gently as he squirmed in the makeshift straight jacket his father put him in. After calming him down and getting him to drink some water you noticed him begin to mellow out, holding him close to you as you slowly silenced him to sleep.
"C'mon, shut the mouth…No-No, don't spit out your gauze we'll change that later. I love you, Miles!" "Bleh."
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thebibutterflyao3 · 2 months ago
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"Potential"
@pandalilymicrofics - 1349 words
Series Beginning
part sixteen - part seventeen - part eighteen
The taxi ride to the pub to pick up Pandora’s car was far less enjoyable than the one she had taken the night before. Instead of sneaking looks at Lily’s thick thighs and imagining herself between them, she impatiently tapped her foot and stared out the window at the upscale neighbourhood that she hadn’t noticed last night.
She doesn’t seem posh, but her house certainly is. 
Pandora knew first-hand what old money families looked like and Lily didn’t fit that mould. Not even close. Her brownstone home was deceiving, that was all. The interior was entirely too cosy and welcoming, for one. Lily herself was clever and genuine, which was rare enough among the general population, let alone among society types. 
When she arrived at the Weasley household, a crowded little townhouse close to her own, Pandora understood at once why her daughter was ready to leave. There were three active and noisy red-headed boys tearing through the house while Luna and Ginevra attempted to do their homework at the dining room table. Luna’s relieved sigh and wan smile were clear signs that she’d reached her limit. 
“Thank you, Molly. I really appreciate–” Pandora began, squeezing the woman’s hand. 
“Nonsense! I was happy to have her,” Molly said. She waved the girls over, then gently brushed Luna’s fringe out of her eyes. “Anytime you’d like to visit, Luna, you’re welcome. Alright?”
Luna beamed up at her, genuine joy filling her eyes. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
“Maybe next time, I can come to your house. Where it’s quiet!” Ginny giggled as she pulled Luna into a hug. 
“Yes! You can see my mural.”
As the girls made plans for the next weekend, Pandora couldn’t help but wonder how the other kids would react to seeing their faces painted on Luna’s ceiling. Not everyone was as kind as Ginny and Molly, so the potential for misunderstanding made her nervous. Teenagers could be so cruel.
“See you at school, Luna!” Ginny called, waving them off. 
Luna waved half-heartedly as she climbed into the front seat of Pandora’s Volkswagen. Once they were out of sight of the house, she pulled her headphones out of her bag and zoned out. Pandora didn’t mind. The silence gave her the opportunity to decompress and examine her feelings about Lily. She didn’t allow herself to become attached to new acquaintances, but Pandora wanted to make an exception for Lily.
The urge to check her phone was hard to ignore, but she didn’t dare pull it out. Luna was a stickler for car safety rules. She was convinced that using a cell phone while driving would immediately lead to an accident. Pandora wasn’t in the mood for another lecture, and she doubted Luna would go easy on her when she’s already overwhelmed. 
Be patient. She will call, I’m sure of it. 
As soon as she parked and turned off the car, Luna hopped out with her bag slung over her shoulder. She hadn’t said a word to Pandora and didn’t appear interested in talking now. Watching her daughter walk away plucked at her nerves, but she knew it was normal for 14 year olds to pull back from their parents. Particularly Autistic 14 year olds, who had limited autonomy outside of her house. 
It’s not her fault that I’m clingy.
Pandora collected her purse and checked her mobile on the way inside. No calls, texts, or messages. She pressed her lips together as she double-checked the time. It was almost eleven in the morning. There was still plenty of time. She refused to fixate on this call. It didn’t mean anything if it didn’t happen today. Logically, she knew that. Emotionally was another story. 
Perhaps she has plans today. Or a date. What if she has a date?
Busying herself with straightening the house, Pandora tried to put the thought out of her mind. It was none of her business what Lily was doing today or who else she was seeing. They weren’t friends, after all. One tipsy night together didn’t mean anything. It certainly didn’t give Pandora any right to feel a spark of jealousy. No. She was not going there.
After the dishes were cleared, she cleaned the kitchen and began preparing a light meal for lunch. Molly Weasely was an avid cook and had likely stuffed Luna with a full breakfast and snacks. When the soup and salads were ready, she wandered upstairs to tell Luna. She found her daughter asleep and still wearing her headphones. 
Unable to tolerate one more minute of silence, she pulled out her phone and dialed Regulus. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but he’d happily keep her company, and that was enough. When he picked up, he took one look at her and scowled. 
“What’s wrong?” He always knew on sight. She didn’t know how he could tell.
“An incredible hook-up from last night hasn’t called me today,” she admitted. 
Regulus arched an eyebrow. “A hook-up that you met where exactly?”
“A friend of Dorcas’s, or rather someone Dorcas snogged?” Pandora said, flinching when she realised how that sounded. “Not last night, of course. A month ago or so. Anyway, Dorcas introduced us.”
“Alright then. I presume it went well if you’re expecting a call back.” Regulus leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand. “I do not need details, just a general impression will do.”
Pandora sighed and shook her head. “It was fun. More fun than I’ve had in a long time, actually. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, and ridiculous. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in one night since you and Sirius came around last.”
“Does that mean you miss us?” Sirius asked from somewhere off screen. 
Regulus flipped him off. “Mind your own. This is best friends shite.”
“I’m just saying, it’s been a while since we went to London.”
“No,” Regulus said, pointing at his brother. Then, he turned and pointed at Pandora. “And I mean it. No trips to London, I’m done traveling for a while.”
Pandora held her hands up. “I didn’t ask!”
Satisfied, Regulus settled and stared off to the side for a long while. That was just his way. She’d learned to wait him out. It was usually worth the wait. 
She picked up a crochet project that she’d abandoned several weeks ago and began pulling out stitches. This particular doily was star-shaped and had proven to be a bigger challenge than she was prepared for. Every so often, Pandora gave it another go to see if she’d magically improved without any effort on her part. You don’t know if you don’t try.
A repaired row of stitches later, Pandora was startled to find Regulus watching her curiously. “What? Do you like it?”
“It’s pretty,” he said distractedly. Regulus shrugged off her “thank you” and began doodling on whatever was on the table in front of him. Knowing Regulus and Sirius’s flat as well as she did, it could be anything from an envelope to a serviette to Sirius’s arm. Whatever was at hand would do. When he glanced up again, Regulus asked, “You’re obsessing over this one, aren’t you?”
“No! I am definitely not obsessing over her, it’s just hard–” Pandora waved her hands helplessly, searching for words that wouldn’t come. “Look, I’m trying not to!”
Regulus’s gaze flitted over her face as she defended herself, then he smirked. “I think it’s a little too late for that, Panda, and I don’t have to be a trained therapist to see it. How many times have I told you? Don’t get your feelings involved until you’re sure they’re worth falling for?”
“Not all of us are soulless robots, Reggie,” Sirius teased in the background. “I say keep fucking her until she catches feelings back.”
“Because you’re a slag.” Regulus retorted, visibly retreating into himself. While Sirius laughed and jeered at him, Pandora heard him whisper to himself,  “I’m not a soulless robot. I’m not.”
Just look at the pair of us, Reg. Me offering my heart to anyone who shows an interest and you locking yours away. We’re a mess.
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mousedetective · 1 year ago
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Homeless Disabled/Mostly Queer Family Needs Help...In The Home Stretch Now!
PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME
VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address
3/21/24
So things have taken a slight turn for the worse, and while the shelter staff is amazing and our caseworker is doing everything she can for us, we just need to get out of a toxic environment and get into housing as soon as we can. The low-income housing fell through (we don't make enough money for a three-person household, even though we could cover the rent), so tomorrow I'm going through the list I got from the Oceanside housing office and calling everyone. I did talk to a lovely person at a complex in Fallbrook about a place we could afford but she said check every week because there may be an opening if a military family has to leave on short notice.
A friend of mine is going to cover most of the last of the loans for us (around $1500) on the 27th or so so we'll have more money to put toward moving costs if a place opens up. I know I have one $140 loan payment, one $125 loan payment and my mom has a $210 payment we need covered, plus we owe the cable company $163 for equipment we have in storage and can't get to until we get housing.
I'm setting a goal for $1000; anything else will go for apartment application fees and food once my food stamps run out (we get three meals a day but Lena is gone from, like, 6 AM to 9 PM and misses them so I send her to Starbucks with food).
$1000/$1200
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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year ago
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The Lady - 5
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Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader
Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.
I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.
Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️
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"Oh my god. Oh my god. What am I going to do?" You paced back and forth, your mind racing with worry.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk replaced with a concerned frown. "Why are you the one stressed out?" He assured you that you wouldn't have to deal with dirty work.
This was the first time Bucky had seen you lose your composure.
You grabbed his collar, desperation evident in your eyes. "You don't understand, the last person I want to deal with is my stepsister."
Returning home, you realized that if there was an investigation, your job profession could make you a suspect, too.
Trying to calm you down, Bucky suggested, "For the alibi, if anyone asks, just say that you were with me."
You scoffed, feeling frustrated. "Like they're going to believe that I wanted to spend a day with you."
Everyone in your household knew how annoyed you were with Bucky. On numerous occasions, they had heard you complain about him to Cedric, the family lawyer.
You were quiet as you picked up the phone to make a call.
"Y/N?"
The sound of his voice brought a sense of calm over you. "I need your help."
"I'll be there."
A few hours later...
Bucky chimed in with his usual teasing tone. "Ooh, so you choose him over me?"
You rolled your eyes while Eddie checked on you.
Eddie interjected, "Her family will believe me if she spends the night with me."
Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words.
"But there's something missing," Eddie continued.
"What?" you asked.
"They won't believe it if you only say it was a sleepover," Eddie explained.
"What are you trying to say?" you inquired.
Bucky caught on. "Hangover."
Eddie nodded in agreement. "You have to make yourself look hungover. That strengthens your alibi."
"Right," you acknowledged.
Bucky rolled his eyes, realizing that he had suggested the idea first, but you were only listening to Eddie.
"Perfect. I have plenty of alcohol here. What do you want to drink?" Bucky offered.
You replied confidently, "Start with the strongest."
"Yes," Bucky agreed.
After downing three shots of vodka, you started to lose yourself in the night. With the alcohol, the music, and the vibrant atmosphere of Bucky's club, you found yourself enjoying the moment and forgetting about your troubles.
######
As you awakened, the sensation of your stomach churning made you groan. It felt as if your insides had shifted, causing discomfort to spread throughout your body.
Slowly, you managed to sit up, only to discover that you were sprawled atop Eddie, who was still fast asleep and holding you close. Relief washed over you as you realized that both of you were still fully clothed.
However, the memories of the previous night flooded back, each one hitting you with increasing clarity.
"You're awake?"
Your eyes widened at the sound of Bucky's voice. Glancing over, you saw him standing nearby, his shirt rumpled and a distinct lipstick stain marking his lips.
A wave of nausea swept over you, prompting you to grab the nearby champagne bucket and empty its contents in a fit of vomiting.
"Urggh."
Bucky's remark cut through the haze of your discomfort. "Well, that hurts my feelings. You see my face and vomit."
"Urrghh," you groaned, the sickness still plaguing you.
Eddie winced, his hand moving to massage his throbbing head. "What kind of drink did you give us last night, Barnes?"
Bucky shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's a new drink I picked up from a celebrity brand."
Eddie chuckled ruefully. "That explains everything."
He rose from his makeshift bed and reached over to pat your shoulder gently. You noticed a faded lipstick stain on his lips, the same color as yours. A blush crept up your cheeks as you realized the implications of the matching marks.
Meanwhile, the incessant ringing of your phone filled the air, causing your head to throb even more.
"Ring, ring."
You cringed, covering your ears to block the sound, but Eddie took the initiative to answer.
"77 missed calls," he informed you.
You grabbed your phone, reluctantly answering the next call.
"Where the hell are you?!!!" your mother's voice pierced through the line.
You sighed. "Mom, don't scream."
"What—? Are you drunk right now? Come home now. Your sister's fiancé died."
You negotiated, "Give me 2 hours."
"One hour."
Turning to the two men beside you, you sought their reassurance. "Do you think they're going to believe me?"
Eddie, suppressing a burp, offered some confidence. "I believe so. You rarely get drunk, and you have a reasonable reason after your fight with Charlotte."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, how do you know about me and her?"
Bucky yawned lazily. "You spilled the beans last night."
You were shocked.
Bucky leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he added, "You spilled your guts about how you missed your stepdad, how your mother missed your birthday for five years straight, and how you had a row with your stepsister."
Eddie chimed in, his expression sympathetic as he confessed, "I did try to stop you."
You sighed heavily, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. "Oh no."
Bucky, ever the opportunist, concluded, "But it supports your alibi, since half the club heard your sob story."
You couldn't help but huff in frustration, feeling the bile rising in your throat once more. "Great."
Amidst the conversation, Bucky's smirk only widened while Eddie wore a more concerned expression, his brow furrowed in sympathy.
Your body language betrayed your discomfort, with tense shoulders and a hand clutching your churning stomach, while your eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from the mess you found yourself in.
########
Watching everyone in grief, especially Charlotte, who was sobbing as she watched her fiancé's casket being lowered into the ground. Charles stood beside her, offering what comfort he could.
Susan stood next to you, her voice barely above a whisper, "Give me one thing that would justify your actions."
She sounded grief-stricken seeing Charlotte cry like that, but she seemed oblivious to your own stress.
Wearing sunglasses to hide your red, teary eyes, you replied softly, "He cheated on her."
Susan clenched her fist, her anger palpable. "Good, he deserved it then."
After the funeral, you found yourself face-to-face with Bucky once again. With a roll of your eyes, you couldn't help but remark, "Now I feel like you're the angel of death."
Bucky merely smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "I'm here to meet my client."
Drawing closer to him, you whispered, "You mean the one who ordered the hit on the prince?"
A nod from Bucky confirmed your suspicion, and he subtly gestured towards a woman standing on the fringes of the grieving family.
Your eyes widened in recognition. "Rosie?" Memories of encounters with her during summers spent at Eddie's manor flooded your mind.
Bucky's response was chillingly matter-of-fact. "You know her? Great. She's only paid half. The other half hasn't come through yet."
Your incredulity peaked. "Are you kidding me? Right now?"
You attempted to intervene, but your attention was diverted when you noticed Eddie approaching Rosie.
Bucky's voice cut through the tension with a teasing tone. "Oh-oh. Someone's jealous."
You shot him a glare, cursing inwardly. If even someone like Bucky could pick up on it, then your feelings must be glaringly obvious.
With a dismissive shrug, you replied, "It's just an old crush."
Bucky's smirk widened as he observed your reaction. "Seeing you like this makes me want to tease you more, Your Grace."
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.
Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.
Only if you feel like it!
Here's the link: Ko-fi
Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!
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spiceofvy · 4 months ago
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🐙honestly dude I'm just making a little pile of ideas for you to choose from at this point. This one is significantly more outlandish. Feel free to return to sender *forgot to check the rules on crossovers
Jungkook. Felix. Reader. Thruple. Poly group? Definitely a relationship a la threesome. In "subtle thing BTS do for crush" Jungkook steals crush's stuff. In "Stray Kids:reader is taller" Felix steals Reader's clothes. Bunch of soviet's honestly.
Anyway I figured Reader would be a noncomforming male anyway and a little taller than 5'7"Felix but still shorter than 5'10"Jungkook.
Main prompt is basically Reader and their two romantic but kleptomaniac men. Headcanon the shit of that, please?
Kooklix Throuple Headcanons
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Jungkook x Reader x Felix
cw: no gendered terms but i wrote this with a masc!reader in mind, sfw + nsfw, mostly soft, lots of fluff
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SFW:
The three of you are the most amazing parents for Bam. But be careful when Felix is alone with him because he loves to spoil that pup rotten, and Jungkook tries his best to train Bam but he is too weak to go through with it, so you need to be the strict parent every now and then.
Your life is filled with so much laughter. So much silly joy and wholesome fun. Just smiles and gentleness everywhere. Honestly it's just really wholesome.
But there are also so many uncensored emotions. Just openly feeling things around each other. If joy or sadness, there is no need to be apologetic about it. So instead the three of you embrace this openness. And are free to feel things together.
Those two are the founders of the cuddle pile. The more direct skin contact the better. I hope you don't tend to run hot because one of them is always snuggling up to you. And feeling always brinks blankets (and Bam probably joined at one point too)
So much support. No matter how big or small the occasion is, you are always each other's cheerleaders. Those two also love to take you wherever they go, but if they can't expect tons of selfies of our fashion boys.
Gaming together is the biggest mess ever. Felix going all in, being sweaty as hell and Jungkook tagging along, just having fun trolling the enemies. I hope you enjoy playing support because those two will need it.
They both really love to keep something of each other and of yours with them, especially when they go on tour. Little trinkets, plushies or pieces of clothing. Whatever. And in turn they also always put something of theirs in your suitcase whenever you go on a trip.
The three of you host all the parties! And they are always hits. No matter if they are dinner parties, karaoke parties or the type of parties where you find glitter in your kitchen and people on your couch the next day, everyone loves them. Especially the two social butterflies you get to call your boyfriends.
The three of you have definitely shared animal crossing islands or stardew Valley farm, or anything of that kind. It is a sweet little thing, until someone decides to take your loot. Because even if it's digital, they still don‘t know what private ownership is.
And you guys definitely send out cheesy self made christmascards. The kind where you all dress up in matching ugly sweaters and pose in front of a lit fireplace. Bam is probably dressed up too.
You also always have a front row seat for their shared dance or workout sessions. They both love to train together and you can just enjoy the abs i mean show. But they not only love bonding together but also love to show off to you.
Both of them love selfies. Especially all three of you together. But they love taking candids even more. Expect folders of folders filled with candid of each other, all of them sent to your group chat, geeking out about each other. They are so smitten and you are too.
You get to live in such a supportive household. The two of them are so excited for everything you do. Especially when it comes to you leaning into your more gender-non-conforming side. Felix being a unisex icon himself is an obvious cheerleader for you, but Jungkook also loves to see you try out new things and loves to break boundaries too. The two of them love to watch you as you try on new clothes or new aspects of your identity and they love to support your ideas.
Junkgkook loves to flex that he needs no english tutor because he has you and Felix who talk english to him and give him english lessons. But lets be honest, you don‘t give him actual lessons, he just speaks his cute english to you and you and Felix are totally smitten for him.
When you guys are apart you definitely have planned group video calls dates. It's a fun thing you do to just enjoy time with each other, and you love the time you get together thanks to those dates.
NSFW:
Both of them have crazy stamina in bed and you have the choice between just laying there and taking what they give you. Don‘t worry about reciprocating, they are both service tops and love to spoil you rotten.
But the two are switches at heart so you can have all the freedom you want with them. Including them bottoming or being subs for you. And they are such obedient little sweethearts.
No sex when Bam is in the room or anywhere close to it. End of discussion.
Super soft making up sex after the slightest misunderstanding. Filled with so many compliments and apologies and promises of undying love. Those two tend to feel emotions really intensely so they are also both very serious about making it back up.
Cuddling is aftercare and foreplay, sometimes both at the same time.
Both of them liking to watch and being watched. And they are so pretty together, such a nice show. Especially when you speak up and compliment them while they are at it. They immediately turn into mush. In turn neither of them mind watching you and one of them. But no one else is allowed to look, it always stays between the three of you.
On their formerly long hair, both of them love having it played with/pulled, but please be careful if Felix just got his bleached. He has a sensitive scalp.
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