#WILD to see such an old video still going around!

[hardyorange]

btw, as of approximately last week, F1nn has declared himself "not a man, not a woman, not nonbinary", instead choosing to no longer consider any specific personal gender labels whatsoever; his pronouns remain "he/him" and he does still self-describe as a "funny lil guy"; he's also a strong supporter of "(assigned) gender is fake, do what you want"

oh, and girl month has been officially over since spring or so, and he looks like this now:

When the joke goes too far and you end up a girl

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Watch.

✩ dbf!toji x fem!reader

being caught masturbating by your dad’s best friend was a life altering experience, but when he finds out what you were thinking about….he wants to do more than watch.

✩ tags: solo masturbating, age gap (toji just turned 40), voyerism, mentions of porn, dom toji, sub reader, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, reader is in her mid 20s, squirting, creampies and so much more.

note: on my wolverine/hugh jackman era, but I still love my husband toji. also the reader lives with her dad while he place is under construction.

you swallowed thickly, heart beating out of your chest as you watched the man take small strides to the foot of your bed; to get a good look out you.

you were caught, there was no other way around it.

your eyes dropped from his honey colored ones, trailing down and stopping at his muscular torso, where you could see how glazed they looked due to him sweating—illuminated by the one lamp you had turned on.

he and your dad were busy chopping fire wood in the backyard, laughing and drinking beers as they shared their old stories with one another. but, when toji had to use the bathroom, your dad asked for him to check on you, you hadn’t come out of your room since you got home from work and he wanted to make sure you were okay. that’s how he ended up in your room and from what he saw, you were more than okay.

“what were you watching there, doll? hm?” he nodded towards your closed laptop and you fidgeted in your spot, adding to your embarrassment. “porn…” a smirk formed on his scarred lips and he lightly tapped the bottom of your bed frame.

an idea popped into his head and you could see the gears moving, before he looked around your room and found a chair—pulling it to your bed before sitting down on it. your cheeks were hot and your mind was running rampant, surely he wasn’t…

“did ya get to cum?” he asked and you shook your head. before he came in your were close, so very close, but that stopped when he caught you.

“well then, don’t let me stop you. go ahead” he looked at you then down at the pink vibrator that was right beside you. you pressed your thighs together, that familiar throbbing sensation appearing down below.

you looked at him and could tell her wasn’t going to move and that he was serious, your heart was pounding in your chest. your dad’s best friend, the man you fantasized about ever since you came back, was going to watch you masturbate. you bit your lip and opened up your laptop, resuming the video on the porn site—before grabbing your vibrator and pressing it to your clit, turning it on.

you bit your lip, suppressing the moans that desperately wanted to leave your mouth—keeping focus on the lewd video that was playing and not on the hunk sitting in your chair.

“you were louder than that doll, i heard you. show me how loud you can get.” His voice was deep and sultry, making you let a whimper; one that he heard. the smirk on his face got wider and winked at you, making your cunt gush.

you kept your eyes on the screen, your arousal growing by the minute—his emerald eyes watching your every move. watching how your face was scrunched up and your mouth was agape; while the fat pink vibration stayed on your puffy clit; splashing with your wetness.

the more you watched and left the toy on your clit, the more aroused you became and those sweet noises that left you mouth were the perfect melody to the older man. you squeezed your eyes shut, no longer needing the porn to fuel you as your imagination ran wild.

you were thinking about him, his tongue replacing the toy on your clit while his thick fingers pumped in and out of your sopping cunt, working multiple orgasms out of you back to back—then positioning himself right at your entrance, fucking you senselessly into the mattress.

toji leaned forward, watching as you lifted up your shirt—pinching your perky nipples, while moving the vibrator around on your clit. the sounds of your wetness pooling and echoing through the room due to the toy had him palming his cock through his jeans—desperately wanting to be free.

you could feel yourself on the brink of an orgasm, you pinched your nipples hard and turned the vibrator up a notch; yet it was unable to overpower your sweet moans. whatever your dad was doing, you hoped he stayed occupied with that—keeping him from coming upstairs.

toji watched as slick pooled out of you, your hands clinching the grey sheets underneath you, as your orgasm came crashing down on you. a series of moans left your lips, while you kept the toy on your clit—legs trying stay open while you came. once you finally had enough, you turned the toy off and tossed it aside; opening your eyes up and catching your breath—his eyes locked on yours.

“such a good girl. g’na tell me what your were thinking about over there? saw you muttering something~” he rose an eyebrow and your bottom lip went right between your teeth, again.

“you. i was thinking about you…” his eyes darkened and you could see him grip his crotch, your cunt clenching at nothing. toji got up from his seat and walked to the side of your bed, before sitting on the side of it. you gulped and watched as he ogled at your half naked body; your cunt throbbing the more he stared at you.

and then, he leaned over you, pressing those scarred lips against yours—making you melt into your mattress. his big hands immediately went to your cunt, thick fingers coated in your wetness; while your thighs parted further—giving him more access to her.

“so wet…this what you were thinking about, hm? me playing with this pretty pussy?” he spanked your clit, making you yelp out; which was followed by a moan. you nodded and he let out a chuckle, sticking two thick digits in your hole; your slick drenching his fingers.

he repositioned himself between your legs, now eye level with your cunt, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip before diving head first; immediately lapping up your juices. your small hand went immediately for his raven locks, gripping them as he ate you out. eyes crossed while your lips parted, mewls spilling out as he worked wonders on your sensitive cunt.

“f-fuck! toji—g’na cum,” he said nothing, the only sound you could be heard was the lewd sounds of him sucking and slurping on your pussy and juices. he hummed and pushed his two fingers back into your needy hole, speeding up your orgasm. your grip on hair got tight and you rolled your hips against his tongue, riding out your second orgasm on his face.

toji stayed between your legs for a little longer, slurping up what you could push out before he lifted his head, licking your juices off his lips. you sat up and watched as he got off your bed, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, leaving him in black briefs—which followed his jeans; revealing his heavy cock.

you swallowed, keeping your eyes on his fat leaking cock, wondering what the hell were you getting yourself into. he got on the bed with you, sitting behind you, pulling you into his lap—cock pressed right on your cunt; making u moan softly.

“you can take it. i got you mamas,” he reassured you, lifting you up slightly and angling himself at your entrance; before pushing himself in.

The both of you let out a noise, a gasp from you and a groan from him. he stretched your walls past its normal limit and as you looked down—you saw that he wasn’t all the way in, and you whimpered.

“don’t get scared now, been thinking about this pussy since I came by; just like I know you you’ve been thinking about me—can see it in your eyes…” you let out a scream, his dick was now fully inside of you; kissing your cervix.

he pulled your head back and locked eyes with you, smirk painted on his chiseled face, “any louder and your father’s g’na come up and here and catch me balls deep in his daughter’s sweet pussy.” his lips connected with yours, suppressing the moans that wanted to leave your mouth, while he gripped your hips and slowly started to move you up and down on his length.

the more you took him, the more you you craved to have him dump his load inside of you; you desperately needed that. the pain that came with him stretching you out with his fat cock had washed away and was replaced with sheer pleasure—making your cunt gush with each bounce.

your eyes fluttered over to the mirror in front of you, taking in your reflection and watching as his cock piston’d in and out of your soppy wet cunt; a squelching noise accompanying your sweet moans that filled the air. his eyes followed yours and he growled, looking at how much of your slick had coated his cock—a nice white sheen painting it.

the more he helped you bounce on his dick, the more he fell in love. he loved how fucked out you looked in the mirror, how your eyes rolled back when his tip brushed against a certain part, how you started to babble his name—begging for more of his cock. he was getting addicted to you, just like you were with him.

toji could feel you clench down on him, tightening your walls—letting him know how close you were.

“go ahead pretty girl. look in the mirror and watch how you cum for me~” you let out a whine, eyes rolling back, hands falling to your side—cumming all over his cock. toji grunted, watching you through the mirror, trying so hard to not burst inside of you—not yet at least.

as you were riding out your high, you were caught by surprise when toji changed positions on you—putting you face first into the mattress, repositioning himself inside of you. “wait! wait, im still—fuckkk!” he plunged himself deep inside of you before proceeding to drill you into your soft bed.

your ass wobbled and clapped against the older man’s pelvis, his girth splitting your cunt open with each powerful stroke. the more he pounded the more your second orgasm built up, and so was his. his balls were full and ready to explode inside of you—ready to paint your walls a pretty shade of white.

“please….please cum inside me! please daddy, fill me up—fuck!” you cursed, begging him to release inside you—desperately wanting to be filled up by him, so you could be his personal cum dump. he let out a chuckle, he had you mind fucked in just a matter of minutes and he knew that your body would only crave him after today.

toji grunted, gripping your hips, slamming himself deep inside—cocking twitching the more your walls spasmed around him. and with a few more strokes, he couldn’t help but to unleash his load inside of you—spurting out milky white ropes; filling you to the brim. he kept fucking you while his cum continued to pool inside of you, causing a more intense orgasm to course through you.

specks of white blurred your vision, gripping your sheets below you as you let go—squirting all over his dick, shocking you both. he quickly pulled out, his seed dripping out before he plugged his fingers into your hole—fingering your cunt rapidly; pushing out more of the clear fluid from your body.

all you could do was lie there and take it, your body being drained of its fluids, before he removed his thick digits—making you whine in response.

“don’t worry doll, imma get your dad to leave the house—so i can turn that cunt every which way but loose~” he sent a smack to your plump ass before putting his jeans back on, placing a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. as the raven haired male descended down the stairs, he was met by your dad who was just about to come up.

“oh, i was just about to come up and see if you were alright.”

“those tacos i had earlier fucked my stomach up. your daughter’s fine, but she wanted you to pick up a couple things from the store. she needs lots of water….”

[bright-molina]

the equation of you - prologue

☆ Tyler Owens x reader ☆ Twisters SMAU!! ☆ synopsis: You've known Kate Carter for years and never once has she introduced you to a single friend, always claiming you were the only one she needed. That all changes when one day she declares she wants you to meet the infamous Tornado Wrangler himself, perfectly unaware you know very well who he is already. ☆ Warnings: none for now ☆ A/N: guess who's once again back with yet another social media au... this time in hybrid format because i love them all too much to not dive into this world. please enjoy because i'm having a BLAST with this so far and i have truly SO much planned

The dominoes cascaded in a line...

“And with that I think that’s all we got this time. Tune in next time to find out the answer to that burnin’ question I know you all have - is it or is it not possible to shoot fireworks up into a movin’ tornado? Remember, if you feel it -”

The video playing on the screen of your phone cuts to black after one last wink to the camera and it makes your eyes roll. It is, however, paired with a smile. The little buzz you feel deep inside cuts through the already fading headache as you take another bite of your lunch and a deep sigh leaves you. 

But the conversations going on all around you echoes against the walls of the room you’re sitting in and a pang of loneliness shoots through you instead.

It’d been easier to get things done with Kate sitting in the cubicle next to yours. The feeling is followed by a shot of baseless worry when you send her another message and it remains unread. 

So maybe you had gotten a little more anxious after she came back from her trip home. She’d all but burst into your office with a wild and scared and excited look in her eyes when she told you she was heading back out into the field. You’d helped her pack and made her promise to stay safe and tried to push away the uneasiness you felt knowing she’d be out there in the middle of a storm.

One check in with her quickly turned into several. Every twelve hours on the dot you were sending her a picture of you sitting at home or at work and Kate indulged you by responding with pictures of her wherever she happened to be. Beside a shiny white Storm Par truck. The inside of a dingy motel room. A field surrounded by dark gray skies. Back home in her childhood room. 

And then, eventually, a hospital bed. You’d called her seconds after receiving that one with anxious tears in your eyes and she answered with no hesitation. The stories she told you over the phone of her last few days back in Oklahoma had your blood pressure skyrocketing and your heart constricting inside you. 

You knew what these storms were like. You’d grown up in a place similar to the one Kate grew up in. You’d watched them on screens and seen the devastation and learned about them all you could. But this was different. This one was huge. It was bad. And on top of that, your best friend had thrown herself into the middle of it and made a discovery that could change everything. Because of course she would. 

Kate had come home with bruises and cuts already almost completely healed but it didn’t stop you from clinging to her for a few days. She was kind enough to never mention a word of it. To never point out the fear that she knew still plagued you a little bit. But she always reassured you she was okay and that was enough. 

She was better than okay, you figured, considering she’d immediately started telling you about the nicer parts of her trip. Like seeing her mom again and catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. 

Including these, apparently. Ones you didn’t yet know the names of. Ones who were coming into town. Ones that, by the look of it, she wanted you to meet. And go out with. With her. And it made all the anxiety fade away because she really was okay. She was healing a little more. It made you smile. 

The timer you’d set went off and you knew that the comfort of your apartment was within reach now. As soon as you wrangled your tour groups, treated them to some delightfully dramatized demonstrations, and sat them in their seats for the space show you were home free. 

Except Kate had several hours left until she got off work. And she had something to explain to you. And you were almost positive the curiosity would kill you before then.

“Okay, so,” Kate settles a little deeper into the couch and turns to face you while the credits of the movie you’d been watching while finally eating dinner played on the screen. “I think you’ll really like them.” 

“Oh I absolutely trust your judgment,” You turn to face her too and you can see her excitement ready to bubble over. “Tell me about them.” 

It doesn’t take much prompting other than that and a smile flashes on Kate’s face. “Well, I met them back home. They’re this big group of storm chasers, too, and the five of them are actually the ones who helped me adapt the formula and research I'd been working on and were gonna help test it in the field but you know how that ended.”

“Wait hang on -”

“They’re okay,” Kate knows what question you’re about to ask before you even have a chance to ask it. You’d always been an empathetic person from the moment she’d met you. You’d noticed the little things about her and listened when she finally opened up to you and never for a moment let her feel alone. If there was one constant in her life here it was you. “A little banged up but alright for the most part.”

Your brows furrow and you give her a look that feels much too serious for you when you ask, “What does ‘for the most part’ mean?” 

“Well there might’ve been a minor injury or two but it’s okay!”

“Kate, I swear -”

“Logically speaking, if the injuries were more than minor they wouldn’t be coming to New York City of all places.”

“I guess you have a point.” You sigh, defeated, knowing very well she has a good point and Kate takes it as a win. “So are they here for you or for some fun?” 

“Very funny,” Kate gives you a deadpanned look but another grin breaks across her face soon after. You watch as she reaches for her phone and the blanket around her shoulders slips down a little bit. She starts scrolling as she talks to you. “They’re doing an interview on some talk show, I can’t remember the name of it. That’s what they're here for technically but I convinced them to stay a couple days longer. Figured it’d give me a chance to introduce them to you that way.”

“Wait an interview?” You stare at her again and try to recall every single little detail she’s told you about her trip all at once. A frown appears on your face when you can’t immediately figure it out. “Who exactly are you friends with?”

Kate flips her phone towards you and on the screen is a picture of five people. “They call themselves Tornado Wranglers.”

You don’t say a single word. The only thing you do is stare and you must look shocked or confused or completely dumbfounded because Kate continues quickly. 

“It's a weird name, I know. I still can’t figure out what it means exactly but I promise you’ll think they’re really cool too!” 

Kate is saying words, you know that. You know she’s speaking but you don’t hear her, not while your mind is spinning like one of those storms she loves chasing so much. She tells you their names, that much you process. Dani. Dexter. Boone. Lily. Tyler. 

“They, uh,” You force the words out of your mouth after she’s given you a brief explanation of what they each do. “They definitely sound like Tornado Wranglers”

“They’re supposed to get in tomorrow.” Kate drops her phone and her eyes narrow as she takes in the look on your face. Your eagerness has faded away and has been replaced with something else. Something she can’t quite pinpoint. “It’s okay if you don’t want to meet them! I know you’ve been busy with work lately and it is kinda last minute. We don’t have to -”

“Kate,” You launch yourself forward far enough to take her hand that wasn’t holding her phone. The look is shaken off your face quickly and just like that the excitement is back. She relaxes a little bit at the sight of it. “I’d be happy to meet your friends.”

Kate hears the unspoken words between you. The way you’re reminding her of how much love and care you have for her. Of the way you’re right there, no matter what. It puts her at ease the way it has so many times before. 

“Tell me when and I’m there.”

Kate was definitely gonna kill you for this one.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back. 

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both. 

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before. 

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend. 

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second. 

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him. 

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion. 

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!” 

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair. 

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.” 

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words. 

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!” 

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously. 

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him. 

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering. 

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters. 

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have. 

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches. 

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity. 

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs. 

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one. 

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror. 

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.” 

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh. 

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this�� fancy.” 

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form. 

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort. 

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.” 

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it. 

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago. 

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama. 

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce. 

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas. 

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.” 

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat. 

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.” 

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.” 

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort. 

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap. 

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle. 

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff. 

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?” 

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement. 

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead. 

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect. 

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously. 

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face. 

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door. 

Eddie though, he starts chuckling. 

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more. 

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you. 

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.” 

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch. 

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.” 

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy. 

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers. 

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers. 

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything. 

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm. 

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music. 

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related. 

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face. 

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively. 

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.” 

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.” 

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks. 

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.” 

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen. 

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin. 

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard. 

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt. 

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else. 

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t. 

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was. 

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees. 

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first. 

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda. 

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you. 

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch. 

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face. 

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him. 

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling. 

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes. 

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.” 

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.” 

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask. 

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips. 

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it. 

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile. 

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you. 

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes. 

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!” 

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you. 

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again. 

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head. 

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance. 

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise. 

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder. 

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again. 

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan. 

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing. 

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum. 

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again. 

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side. 

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued. 

“I never got to taste it,” you pout. 

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either. 

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent. 

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum. 

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it. 

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp. 

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare. 

Got you. He thinks. 

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle. 

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy? 

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened. 

Because it was nothing… to him. 

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.” 

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks. 

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not. 

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw. 

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear. 

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.” 

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again. 

He left you speechless. 

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.” 

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink. 

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face. 

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does. 

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other. 

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness. 

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have. 

You look down, frowning at your drink. 

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table. 

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him. 

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning. 

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly. 

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.  

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?” 

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.” 

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers. 

“Two sips.” 

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him. 

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you. 

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P. 

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm. 

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp. 

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you. 

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too. 

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously. 

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you? 

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little. 

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face. 

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question. 

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning. 

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington. 

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries. 

Joyce looks down in amusement. 

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike. 

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow. 

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face. 

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up. 

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table. 

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech. 

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand. 

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.” 

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little. 

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.” 

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.” 

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved. 

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again. 

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it. 

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you. 

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this. 

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.” 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. 

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness. 

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh. 

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?” 

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly. 

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!” 

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple. 

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes. 

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.” 

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be. 

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily. 

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!” 

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike. 

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle. 

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours. 

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you. 

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you. 

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans. 

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway. 

What the hell. 

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous. 

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve. 

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is. 

“Running away from me?” Steve asks. 

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights. 

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door. 

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time. 

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you. 

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?” 

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car. 

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.” 

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw. 

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car. 

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight. 

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word. 

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat. 

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it. 

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him. 

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’ 

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along. 

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something. 

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day. 

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers. 

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something. 

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him. 

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting. 

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long. 

He was guided by lust, not by interest. 

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you. 

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you. 

But it’s something that will never happen again. 

He swears, it will never happen again. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

[velvetchrry]

hockey player!ghoap x smm!reader thoughts

just thinking about how you’re a social media manager for a new hockey expansion team. johnny and simon — who grew up playing hockey together — both got drafted to the pros but have never played on a team together before. they’re both selected for this new franchise — the first time they’ve played together since they were kids.

simon is a defenseman. big, hulking — he’s the guy that's going to initiate fights with the players that are picking on his teammates. you aren’t going to get away with a dirty hit when he's around — he will retaliate. he will dish out a big clean hit when they think they’re safe. especially if it’s johnny. he’s the team enforcer, but still a talented defenseman.

johnny is your center star. he’s wicked fast on the ice, and is always showing off with plays you think are near impossible. he’s surprisingly humble — giving credit where credits due, passing to his teammates when they’re open instead of taking a wild shot himself. he’s the chatty one, always talking up the press during intermission and after the games over.

(and ofc we have gaz as a winger and price as the old goaltender close to retirement, who just can’t give up the game yet)

you were hired with a batch of social media managers in order to promote this new team to the locals. you want to attract season ticket holders. you want people excited for the upcoming season. you want people to meet their players — even though most of them have a history on the ice.

you’re really good at your job. your main job is keeping up with the videos and pictures of the team and players — creating the content that gets posted. your coworkers laswell responds to the fan tweets and comments — she’s got more of a knack for that, where you have the creative eye.

part of your job is getting to know the players and getting them to open up to you on camera, especially when you’re recording. you have them follow along to the latest tiktok trends, record practice sessions and even what time everyone shows up to the arena (simon is early, price is right on time, gaz and johnny are running late). normally your job would be staying on home ice — not following the team when they’re away — but to keep up with content the owners request you specifically go along. it’s been a total hit online and tickets are selling like hotcakes.

you start to really get to know the team — you fly with them and stay in the same hotels. you’re with them at every practice. they start requesting you be the dj at practice even. it helps loosen them up. you get great content. you joke with them. you even stand at the bench during games. (content content content)

johnny of course chats you up first. he's easily to film and he’s your star. he’s the one generating the views and likes and hearts and comments. he’s the one everyone’s excited to see. he’s the first to jump on a new trend you want to film and he’ll encourage everyone to do the same. he’s the only reason that you get simon to be on camera. (and he still won’t go on camera much, rather you have to get shots of him on the ice)

they do their best to include you in everything, but especially when they’re at an away game. if the boys are going out for dinner, johnny will make simon knock on your hotel room door and convince you to join. (you don’t take a lot of convincing, however johnny has to pour simon a stiff bourbon to work up the courage to go ask you). you’re included in celebrations when the team wins. they drag you to one of the guy’s houses for a private dinner and drinks.

johnny and simon start to separately invite you to things — just the two of them. it’ll start off as johnny acting like he has a great new idea for content. he and simon did grow up together, they are best friends. they could have a great little segment together.

but it turns into more. they sit on either side of you. johnny brushes a hand against your thigh and rests it there. simon has an arm on the back of your chair, always keeping his body in the way of any potential threats. always keeping you safe. their sweet little puck slut princess. their hands are all over you by the end of the night.

they take you to a shared hotel room — after all it would be irresponsible for any of your to drive home. and johnny and simon share everything. they’re happy to share a room.

they’re happy to share you.

[nightisawkward]

"Another challenger… it has been ages. Perhaps you have forgotten how this game is played. Allow me to remind you."

Happy halloween fellas!!! Hermitcraft/Life SMP inscryption AU ft. Boatem gang I cooked up awhile ago but never got around to posting B-) Wild life smp has reminded me how mentally ill I am about putting these Guys in Situations so here I am

Mild to major inscryption spoilers under the cut!

For those familiar with the game, the general roles are:

Luke Carter - "Challenger"/Grian

In this AU Grian is still a trading card-based youtuber who's recording all this nonsense going down real time as in canon, but has closer ties to the GameFuna company equivalent, named "WatcherCorp". His old college roommate/best mate Jimmy went to work for them, but mysteriously passed away in a fire at their headquarters. He found the Inscryption cards in Jimmy's leftover personal belongings a few years after his death, and decided that the best way to honor him would be to make a video featuring the project he put his heart and soul into... in more ways than one.

Key difference from canon Inscryption: Grian's mind is sucked into the game of Inscryption whenever he is playing. He is able to enter and leave the game at will, but he doesn't realize this until he first dies to Leshy/Pearl and ejects himself unconsciously out of fear of dying. The only reason he realizes he isn't hallucinating is because his camcorder footage proves he actually enters the game. He obtains the "Watcher's Eye" during Act 1, which he keeps for all future acts and allows him to see things he shouldn't see as a Challenger.

P03 - "Scarred Stoat"/Scar

Despite being the one who convinces Grian and the other Scrybes to stand up against Pearl, no one seems eager to spend any more time with the conniving conman than absolutely necessary. This may have something to do with Scar's history of backstabbing and cheating both Scybes and Challengers whenever it benefits him most. Which makes it rather unfortunate that Grian is must spend time with Scar in order to gather as much information as possible.

In the beginning, Scar and Grian do not get along in the slightest. Grian finds Scar's attitude too "fake", while Scar finds Grian's "cowardice" to be irritating. At some point, the two go from passive-aggressive fighting, to a grudging truce, to more friendly, lighthearted banter. Neither person seems to trust the other, but it doesn't seem to stop the two from being ✨saddled with unnecessary feelings✨. Scar's Act 3 world is much like Leshy's Act 1 world, with much more emphasis put on environmental storytelling and general Vibes than actual gameplay. Even if his game is a smokescreen for his true goal of Ascension, he feels strangely obligated to give Grian his best shot.

Scar in his proper Scrybe form appears more steampunk than canon P03. Think of a Grumbot with Scar's boatem base aesthetic and tons of missing nuts and bolts. P03's bastardous tendencies+ Scar's steampunk base made this role perfect for him.

Magnificus - "Horned Wolf"/Impulse

Impulse is a talented artist and an even more talented programmer. His future sight stems from his literal sight: His eyes are able to see read the code veil behind Inscryption, allowing him to predict likely futures based on what code is running. He often laments his status as an NPC, claiming that if he were given administrative privileges and the actual ability to modify source code he would have been able to escape Inscryption long ago.

He is rather absent in Act 2, focusing on finishing his "artwork" as soon as possible. He uses his brush to create a menagerie magical creatures with strange abilities in hopes that using one in battle might trigger a unfixable bug, allowing him to rip a hole through the source code. It is unclear whether he was able to accomplish his goal before Act 3 roles around, but it seems like Scar's method of Ascension seems awfully similar to Impulse's... perhaps a sneaky spy was able to steal Impulse's information?

As a proper Scrybe, he resembles a walking mop or a yak with overgrown fur. Most of his features are indistinguishable, save for his small horns and his glowing goat eyes.

Lemora - "Distinguished Stinkbug"/Mumbo

Mumbo is by far the most easygoing Scrybe in the cast. While he would greatly prefer an eternal slumber over yet another temporary ceasefire amongst the Scrybes, he is willing to work with the others in Act 1 simply because he finds his stinkbug form too uncomfortable to sleep in. Mumbo's goal is simple: to delete the game of Inscryption, and therefore himself, and finally rest. However, finds the constant power struggles in the world of Inscryption rather tiring and simply can't be bothered to make a grab for power himself to achieve this goal. This hasn't stopped him from asking Grian to destroy floppy disk of Inscryption. Unfortunately for him, the temptation of the o̷l̵d̷ ̶d̸a̶t̷ [REDACTED] mysteries within Inscryption are simply too powerful for Grian to resist.

As a proper Scrybe, he looks almost exactly like Mumbo's minecraft skin: A pale, mustached man with blood red eyes who resembles a vampire. Mumbo denies all vampire allegations. While he is the most "normal" looking Scrybe, Grian would still hesitate to call him "human" ...there's just something slightly off about his appearance that sets him on edge.

Leshy - "Game Master"/Pearl

Pearl is an unforgiving gamemaster that puts more emphasis on providing the player a challenge than her canon counterpart. After her self-proclaimed "tutorial", there is no more handholding and she gives Grian an absolute hellish time. Grian is only able to get a slight edge when he discovers all of the Scrybes, who provide him with stategy help to even the playing field. It is unclear whether Pearl actually enjoys running her Act 1 game or not: she seems to derive an animalistic pleasure from defeating Grian, but there are times where she seems tired and fed up with the endless gameplay loop and intentionally throws during key fights. She switches between manic and depressed at the drop of a hat.

During Act 2, she barely even tries to give Grian a challenge, allowing him to progress straight to her boss fight without any side quests to "get it over with quicker". She seems to hold a deep grudge against Scar for some reason, which is the only thing that motivates her to take action to stop him during Act 3.

Mysteriously, Grian finds a burned and unusable Unicorn card within her Act 1 cabin. Upon discovery, Scar immediately suggests that Grian leave it where he found it. Some things are best left forgotten, after all...

[afewproblems]

The Holiday Party had gone quite smoothly, more than he was expecting if Steve was being honest with himself.

Until about halfway through, but that was pretty par for the course.

Jonathan had unearthed an old Rummoli Board from a box labeled 'Basement Misc', the Byers were still in the middle of unpacking from their move back to Hawkins, and brought it alongside a bottle of wine that Nancy had managed to smuggle from the Wheelers liquor cabinet.

Robin, who rode with Eddie and Argyle, brought pizza, the only copy of It's A Wonderful Life from Family Video, and way too much weed for just the six of them.

"It isn't a party without a little Kush Stevie," Eddie had told him, clapping his warm hand on Steve's shoulder, his thumb just high enough to rest on bare skin above the collar of his sweater.

All Steve could do was roll his eyes and take the pizzas, quickly ducking into the kitchen before Robin or, God Forbid, Eddie could comment on the pink flush that had taken over his face at the new nickname.

Robin had been insisting that Steve just tell Eddie how he felt for the last few weeks. Rip the bandaid off and come clean. What was the worst that could happen?

Which, really Robin?

Steve knows exactly what happens when someone puts themselves out there only for the other person to not feel the same way. His whole argument was currently sitting in his living room for fucks sake.

Sure, Steve and Nancy were on better terms now, but it also took two years to get there, and even still, there was a weird tension when they found themselves alone together.

So, no, telling Eddie was not an option, Robin.

Steve could keep it together. He could deal with the ache in his chest at the sight of Eddie's smile. Steve could deal with the way his heart beat quickened whenever Eddie said his name. He could deal with the heady flush that bloomed every time Eddie touched him.

He was fine, it was fine.

And, movie nights like these were nothing new in the wake of Vecnas defeat and the destruction of the Upside Down. Steve needed to keep it together if he wanted to continue to have this. Nights without the kids to look after or the adults to hide their indulgences from, these were the nights where they could truly relax.

These were Steve's favourite, and he was not going to let some Bullshit feelings stand in the way of being able to see Eddie.

This Christmas Eve found the six of them lounging on pillows and extra couch cushions from the basement to make the 'best movie watching set-up thank you very much', according to Robin, and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time.

"I can't believe that George Bailey would wish for something like that, when it's so obvious that people care about him," Robin scoffs at the top of her voice about halfway through the movie, prompting a irritated Shush from Nancy.

"That bro is depressed man, it's like a cry for help, and on Christmas, this shit is heavy dude," Argyle hums, lifting his fist up to Robin who shakes it with a wild grin. The two erupt into violent giggles which begin to creep into Steve and Eddie and eventually Jonathan as well. Nancy rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that takes over her face as well.

"Who would wish to never be born when you could just wish for the bank to like, not fuck you over, seems like a waste of a wish if you ask me," Eddie says as the last traces of giggles begin to finally disapate.

"Ooo, Eddie's right!" Robin says as she reaches for the remote, hitting pause on the movie. She waves her hands through the chorus of groans from everyone except Eddie who turns around to Steve with an incredulous expression on his face.

Steve shrugs as Robin continues, unable to look away from those large brown eyes until a hand darts out to smack him in the chest.

"Steve, pay attention," Robin huffs, "let's go around and share what we would wish for!"

Oh shit.

Steve turns on the couch to fully face Robin with narrowed eyes. She grins at him, lifting a single eyebrow as her blue eyes dart between Eddie and Steve.

Steve opens his mouth to argue, to insist that they just carry on with the movie, only for Eddie to drum his hands against his knees and speak.

"Oh birdie, I'm way ahead of you, this is Wayne's favorite Christmas movie so I've done a lot of thinking 'bout this".

Eddie clears his throat and lifts his hands from his knees now as though he's about to launch into a story for Hellfire, "I would personally wish for the money to be able to fund Corroded Coffin full time, get a demo done, and then be able to kiss this fucking one horse town good bye!"

Steve feels the words hit him like a bucket of cold water.

Eddie wants to leave Hawkins.

His wish, his dream, for forever from the sounds of it, is to leave them all behind.

To leave Steve behind.

The voices from the group, pitched high and low, all blend together into one as the rest of the group share their own wishes.

Steve absently feels a small hand grip his own, he looks up to see Robin staring at him, a worried frown pinched between her eyebrows. He answers her silent question with a shake of his head.

It was fine, he was fine. This was a good thing, better to know now than later when Eddie would inevitably leave him behind.

"Stevie?"

Steve startles as a ringed hand waves precariously close to his face. Eddie smiles faintly at him, one dimple on display as he speaks again.

"Kinda lost you for a second there, what about your wish?"

"Oh," he manages to say with a slight laugh in his voice, even as his brain fills with static, "um, I haven't ever really thought about it, maybe some new music or something".

Nancy and Jonathan both boo loudly from the love seat while Argyle nods with a hazy smile.

"Right on my man, sounds like Eddie'll be able to help when his band makes it big," he says before turning back to the television and slumping even more heavily into the couch.

Steve forces out another bright laugh, ignoring how much it burns his throat and crushes his chest. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the firm hold of Robin's hand on his own.

He doesn't look at Eddie as he leans forward to press play on the movie once more, letting the music and dialogue fill the room once more.

Later, as the end of the credits roll and the tape switches back to static, Nance and Jonathan are fast asleep. The pair are cuddled up on the love seat, their heads leaning against one another. It would almost be cute if not for the pang of envy that fills Steve at the sight.

Steve tries to bask in the warmth of having Robin cuddled into his side, knowing it will alleviate at least some of the ache in his chest. Robins eyes have been steadily growing heavier as she slowly falls further and further into Steves side. He smiles, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.

At least he has Robin, and maybe for now that is enough.

***

This is a part one, let me know if anyone would like a part Two?

[fkinkindagauche]

Slutty Little Mouse

For @steddiesmuttyseptember week 3 prompt "sneaking around".

Rating: Explicit | WC: 1376 | CW: none | Tags: blow jobs, gags

Steve was trying so hard to fall asleep. He’d gone through his nightly routine, which had become something like a religious ritual at this point - turn off the TV by 9pm, wash his face and brush his teeth, go through a series of stretches and calisthenics, then sit quietly in his room for an hour reading before climbing into bed and shutting his eyes. Some nights it worked. Most nights it didn’t. 

He had tried to keep his eyes shut, forcing himself into sleep, but at some point he had opened them and was now staring at the ceiling, thinking. You’d think that he would be reliving memories of torture at the hands of Russians or horrible extradimensional monsters, but he wasn’t. He was thinking about how his life had effectively stalled - a 20 year old still living with his parents, working at Family Video with no immediate plans to branch out beyond that. 

He sighed, shifting from his back to his side, barely muffling a scream when he saw a figure looming in his window. The figure tapped a few times, and Steve gradually made out the wild hair and excited smile of Eddie Munson. 

Steve scrambled out of his bed and over to the window, pulling it open. Eddie was standing precariously on the roof of the Harringtons’ garage. 

“What are you doing here?” Steve hissed. “My parents are, like, right down the hall!”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s face in his hands and planted a wet kiss on his lips. “Came to keep you company,” he said, too loudly, and Steve shushed him while blushing. 

“Sorry,” Eddie whispered, looking not sorry at all. 

“How’d you know I wouldn’t be asleep?” 

Eddie gave him a disappointed look, like Steve was being deliberately obtuse. “You can never sleep, Stevie.” 

Steve huffed, and looked past Eddie at the street below.

“Get inside, someone’s gonna see you,” he said, yanking on Eddie’s arm. Eddie spilled in through the window, making more noise than Steve would have liked.

“How’d you even get up on the roof?” Steve whispered once Eddie had righted himself. 

“Climbed the trash cans. I’m very athletic.”

Steve snorted. “I can’t believe you didn’t knock them over and wake up the whole neighborhood.”

Eddie put a hand to his chest in mock affront. “Baby, you wound me.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you came over,” he whispered. “We can barely even talk with my parents right there.”

“We don’t need to talk,” Eddie said, wiggling his eyebrows, and letting his eyes rake down Steve’s body. Steve was in only his boxers, chest bare. 

“We definitely can’t do anything else,” Steve replied.

“You know what always makes you fall asleep?” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He could see where this was going, but decided to play along. “No, Eddie, what?”

Eddie stepped toward him, getting in his space.

"When I blow you and then we cuddle."

"I think I’m constitutionally incapable of letting you blow me with my parents right down the hall. You know how loud I am," Steve said, pleading. 

"I do know," Eddie said, stepping closer to Steve. "And I love it. Every single sound I wring out of you should win a fucking Grammy. But I'm sure you can be quiet."

Steve leaned into Eddie's warmth, chronically touch-starved. "I'm not sure I can be quiet." 

Eddie reached for his back pocket, pulling out his black bandana. "We could keep you quiet," he suggested, and Steve shivered, feeling his cock start to fill out. The idea of being gagged by Eddie was more arousing than he would have anticipated.

“So you came over here just to blow me to sleep?” Steve asked, trying to shift the focus away from his reaction to the gag.

“Yes, absolutely,” Eddie replied. “You need your beauty sleep.”

Steve was a weak man. He turned and walked back over to his bed. It was a twin, and not really big enough for two adult men, but he and Eddie liked to latch onto each other like two demented starfish so space wasn’t much of an issue. 

“Take off your jacket and jeans,” Steve said. 

Eddie saluted him. “Yes, sir.” He peeled off his jeans and threw his jacket onto the floor, following Steve over to the bed. Steve got under the covers and held them up for Eddie to follow.

Eddie got under the covers, putting the bandana on the bedside table, and instantly moved into Steve’s space, draping his whole body over Steve’s and shoving his face into Steve’s neck to kiss him there.

Steve laughed and tried to push him away. “That tickles,” he whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly. Eddie pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled down at Steve, putting those mind-altering dimples on full display. Steve leaned forward to kiss him, and Eddie reciprocated, pushing Steve back down onto the bed. He licked at Steve’s lips and Steve happily opened them, tangling his tongue with Eddie’s. 

Eddie pressed his hips down into Steve and Steve could feel his hard cock pressed against his thigh. He let out a breathy little moan as Eddie slid a thigh in between his legs, pressing it up into Steve’s cock.

“You gonna need the gag already, baby?” Eddie asked, smirking, and Steve moaned again at the thought of the gag. “Oh, you like that,” Eddie said, delighted. He reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bandana. “Open up?” Eddie stuffed the bandana in his mouth roughly, and Steve bucked his hips up into Eddie’s thigh.

“Good boy,” Eddie said, kissing Steve’s cheek. Steve tried to moan at the praise, but it was thankfully muffled now. “That’s better,” Eddie said. “Quiet as a slutty little mouse.” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie started to kiss down his body, spending a few minutes licking and sucking over his pecs and nipples, which always made Steve outrageously horny. Eddie eventually kept moving south, trailing kisses over Steve’s abdomen. When he got to the waistband of Steve’s boxers he pulled them down, freeing Steve’s cock.

Eddie pressed a kiss onto the head of his cock, sticking his tongue out to lick up the precum at his slit, then moving away to kiss his inner thighs. Steve let out a muffled whine and shifted his hips. Eddie took pity on him and moved back to Steve’s cock, sucking the head into his mouth.

He played with the head of Steve’s cock for a few moments, running his tongue around the glans, sucking lightly, before moving his mouth further down his shaft. He took Steve in most of the way, his hand holding the base of Steve’s cock, and started to bob his head gently up and down. Steve was moaning with abandon now, very glad to have the bandana in his mouth muffling all the noise. 

Eddie moved his hand away and took Steve into his throat, swallowing against his gag reflex to fit Steve all the way. Steve started to thrust up into Eddie’s mouth in time with Eddie’s movements, and felt his orgasm start to build. Eddie could feel it, too, pulling off of Steve for a moment to look up and say, “Come in my mouth, baby.”

That was all it took; the moment Eddie got Steve back in his mouth he was coming, his normally loud cries muffled behind the bandana. Eddie swallowed all of his cum, gently working Steve’s dick with his hand until he was spent. 

He moved up Steve’s body and reached out to pull the bandana from Steve’s mouth. “Sleepy now, darling?” Eddie asked. 

Steve nodded, then noticed Eddie’s cock still hard against his thigh. “What ‘bout you?” he asked, voice already heavy with oncoming sleep. Eddie shifted off of Steve, laying on his side and wrapping an arm around his waist. “I’m fine. You just go to sleep,” Eddie said, kissing Steve’s temple. 

If Steve hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have put up a fight, but he could finally feel himself starting to sink into blissful darkness. He turned over onto his side with his back against Eddie’s chest, letting Eddie spoon him.

“Love you, Eds,” he said sleepily. 

“Love you, too, mouse,” Eddie replied, and Steve drifted off to sleep.

[thebearer]

some carm + jewelry thoughts after reading your blurb about his dangling chain:

-he buys you a gold anklet with a “c” charm on it so he can watch it dangle when he puts your legs up on his shoulders to fuck you

-he has a signet ring embossed with a design (maybe a bear? st anthony? family crest?) and he turns it so the design is facing inwards and he spanks you so it leaves a brand on your ass

-after the big checks start coming in he buys you an exorbitantly expensive necklace and fucks you with nothing else on

omfggggg smut ahead minors dni 18+ but i have to elaborate

ok number one the anklet???? yes. yes. yes.

you mention wanting one, sorta in passing, and carmen's like weirdly adamant about you getting one lol??? you don't really understand why but he shows up a few days later with one you'd shown him online, except it has an embellishment. a tiny 'c'.

carmen's kinda blushy about it but you're beaming and squealing and just smothering him in affection bc it was so cute and sweet, and he really was too!!

then you quickly realize why carmen likes the anklet so much when he's putting it on you, then your legs are up in the air thirty minutes later as a "thank you".

your heels are digging into his shoulders, and normally his eyes are on you solely when he's fucking you especially like this. but you keep catching him staring at your anklet, fucking you hard, gripping your claves while he watches it bounce lightly.

maybe it's the thought that he has a sorta mark on you now. wherever you go, you've got something that symbolizes your his- that he's yours.

it was his grandfathers, then mikey's, and then his. mikey gave it to him when carmen went to new york because "you're a big shot now. need the ring to match since you're gonna be goin' to all that fancy shit, carm."

the ring was gold with a black onyx surface, a gold encrusted 'B' in old english font laid on top so it stood up. carmen didn't wear it often, didn't want to lose it or damage it, but every now and then- on date night, mainly, he'd wear it.

and you loved it.

the chain, nice outfit, plus pinky ring? you were drooling. watching him grab the door handle, cut your food, hold your hand in the car. you couldn't help yourself. he knew you couldn't either. it's why when you got home, he just nodded and you were over his lap.

carmen would take his time pushing up your dress, letting his hand glide over the small of your back, down your exposed cheeks, smug at the way you shuddered in excitement. he'd turn the ring around so the etched side was inwards, cracking his hand down on your ass over and over.

you'd squirm and mewl, gripping onto his legs or the sheets. carmen would just stare, mesmerized by the faint emblem showing on your skin only for a flash before fading.

the bear had made the chicago tribune after a raving review from a lifestyle travel influencer posted a video on the menu and it went wild. you were booked a year out, a waitlist a mile long, a million newspapers, magazines, and interviewers wanting a chance to write about the bear. it was buzzing around chicago, and carmen couldn't be happier. or busier.

he felt bad that with the newfound press, he'd been busy. you'd always been understanding but still, he felt bad, heart breaking every time your shoulders would fall when he said he had to work.

the two of you had just moved into the brownstone. you spent your days decorating and unboxing, showing him swatches of paint that you'd mull over for hours.

"carm, which one looks better?" you'd ask, turning around to see him standing there. only this time, he wasn't empty handed.

the infamous teal bag in hand, grinning at you proudly. "what's this?"

"a gift." carmen shrugged, pulling you over to the couch, setting you between his thighs.

you hummed, unraveling the tiny box. "you really didn't have to get me- oh my god." you were expecting a tiny piece of jewelry, not the dazzling strand of diamonds that sat on the tennis bracelet.

"carmen." you gaped, snapping the box shut, holding it against your chest. "how-how much was this?"

"doesn't matter." carmen shrugged, prying it gently out of your grasp. "let me put it on you. i wanted to get you somethin'. the restaurant is doin'... great. and ya know, i couldn't do it without you baby."

you pressed him about the price, but carmen waived it off. you knew he'd been making money- your new house and car told you that, but the kind of money to casually get gifts at tiffany's? it was new to you. a splurge still, but one that you treasured.

carmen left the necklace on, hips rolling while he fucked you in front of the fireplace, right on the new rug. he wanted to take a picture of the moment, watching you ride him, your head tipped back, diamonds sparkling still even in the low glow of the fire.

[mossyivy]

EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE THAT VIDEO IT MAKES ME GIGGLE!

Imagine you’re just trying to pee in peace, maybe a moment to yourself after having to chase your daughter around all day. All for Leon to come barging in, opening the bathroom door like it’s such a normal thing.

“You know—I saw that trend on Instagram, and I personally think me and you would be horses, and Violet a tiny pony…I see you as one of those pretty white horses honey.”

You just have to sit there like ‘😐’ while trying to go to the bathroom as Leon continues to ramble on about being horses in another lifetime, swearing that you’d be the prettiest horse in the wild. Violet was just happily cooing and playing with her daddy’s hair like always, not even having a clue as to what was going on.

- Anon! 🎀

(It's just such a funny thought.) Video in question

This is the man I fell in love with... Was the thought going through your head as you lower your magazine, staring at your husband as your 6 month old tugs at her father's hair without care. He seems so unphased as he leans against the bathroom door frame continuing to ramble.

"What're those horses called? Like it's a specific breed."

"Leon,... my love," you stare at him as his attention is pulled from thought, eyes locking on you, "Five minutes.... Of peace. Please."

"Ah, yeah. Sorry. Enjoy your time." He steps back, shutting the door with his leave. You sigh in relief as you go back to your magazine. Staring at the beauty article you were trying to read before you look at the door.

He's at the the other side still, isn't he?

"Camarillo Horses." You softly say, hearing the familiar sound of his foot stomping in the hallway.

"Right! Camarillo horses!"

[sungchanarcade]

anton as your bff

i’m probably going to make this a series and do one for each of the members, i’m just such a sucker for friends2lovers :( 

for you two, hanging out is never just that, it always turns into a whole quest. when the weather is nice you guys would decide go to a park for the afternoon before stopping for snacks on the way home to have a movie night but inevitably, one of you always goes “wait i have a really good idea!” and boom suddenly its 2 a.m and you’re on the other side of the city

your plans when you spend time together would be so spontaneous that you’ve stopped planning entirely. neither of you know what you’re going to end up doing with your day together, you just let things unfold and try to avert disaster when necessary (it’s always necessary)

holds your hand/has his arm around you every time you’re on any public transit and he never lets go of you in a crowd, no matter how many or few people are in it. 

also holds your hand when crossing the street, which you teased him about once (“i’m not 5 years old i’m not gonna run away”) and he was all sulky about it (“fine. get hit by a car then”) but every time you two get to a crosswalk (or are about to jaywalk oops) you both grab for each other’s hand naturally

sharing clothes but not realizing until the “oh so that’s where my scarf went” (anton probably has more of your jewelry than you do)

he would carry your bag whenever you’re tired but you wouldn’t have to ask him to, he can tell when you need the break and just wordlessly lift it off your shoulder and put it on his own

despite all your wild adventures, he would love the chill days you have together. staying in to play video games, cooking a meal together, movie marathons, you name it, he just likes having you around

he would always show you the music he’s working on, even stuff that isn’t finished. your feedback and praise means more to him than anything else

while i think he wouldn’t be the best at keeping secrets and he hates hiding things from you, you still wouldn’t realize he has feelings for you and he is doing everything he can to make sure it stays that way because you’ve been friends long enough that he can’t even imagine what his life would be like if you weren’t in it

everyone else definitely knows though

all his other friends have been trying to get him to confess to you for the longest time but no matter how much they nag him about it he isn’t any closer to actually doing it

you would have to confess first i fear

i feel the confession would be as spontaneous you two are, you wouldn’t plan to tell him ahead of time. it would be late after spending the day running around town together and you’d be sitting next to him on some random park bench looking out at the city and he’d offer you the last few bites of his ice cream—even though he’d bought it for himself and you already stole some—and you’d just say it without really meaning to.

“do you want any more?” he asks, tilting the pint container in your direction until you can see it’s almost empty. as if he’s reading your mind, he says “you can have the rest, it’s ok.” he’d bought the ice cream for himself when you’d stopped at a convenience store on the way up here and you’d already stolen more than a few bites, yet here he was, offering you the last of it. he lifts the spoon toward you. “do you want the rest?” he asks, voice soft, gaze softer, and you feel so warm and safe in it. instead of answering his question, you sigh and say, “this is the kind of shit that made me fall in love with you.”

and you’d be so casual about it that he wouldn’t fully register what you said at first and be snarky as ever with his reply (“oh i’m so sorry for being nice to you”) but as soon as he’s said it he realizes exactly what you said and then his brain kind of short circuits

the rest of the confession is mostly you talking and him stuttering and tripping over his words. you definitely have to finish half his sentences for him because he’ll just trail off in the middle. his face is SO red and he would not stop blushing for the entire conversation. when you two get back to his place at the end of the night his cheeks are still red

he’d start smiling (mostly to himself) about how lucky he got every. single. time. he looks at you for at least 3 weeks after

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

#FF0000: rosquez [t]

Valentino had been—thinking. He is having fun, really, this season despite Jorge’s general existence a few meters away. And he likes races in the US, its plastic artificiality, people’s way, way, way too white teeth and loud laughs and exaggerated sports passion. Bringing home a podium is always good.

A little less now, sure, because he knows he can win again. Knows he’s going to, eventually; it isn’t like he can do anything else with Yamaha. But Valentino won’t forget Ducati kicking his legs from under him—wishing that the bike would just fucking work for one weekend over two fucking years.

So, he’s happy. Enjoying himself, even if the club is gritty and cheap and stuffed, sweat sticking to his throat and dripping down his back to his underwear, his beer lukewarm.

Until he catches Marc weaving through the crowd, that is.

Getting up is a split-second decision. One moment, Valentino is sitting with his mechanics, ignoring them shouting over the music. The next, he’s prowling, drink abandoned, his crew calling after him.

He ends up catching Marc close to the bar. Grabs him by the wrist. Marc’s skin is fever hot, and he sways in place when he swings around to look at him.

“Honda is being stingy with you. This place is shit,” Valentino says, flashing a smirk.

Marc—honest to God—cackles, and the pulsing lights wash over his face, over the ugly openness of his honking laugh. Like this, Valentino can see him, really see him. The fritz of champagne and beer sizzles in his stomach, heavy out of nowhere.

Marc had been with a girl, is the thing. Maybe more than one. It’s there, on his bottom lip, on his chin—smeared lipstick. Red and very bright. Bit waxy.

Cheap, probably.

“No, no, it is fine,” Marc leans in to shout into his ear. “We’re barhopping!”

He says it in English, clumsy, his accent rolling each r hard, cutting sharp on the ing. It’s, frankly, ridiculous.

And his breath is hot, damp. Reeks with alcohol where it brushes against his cheek. Marc is swinging with the beat of whatever shitty synth pop they’re playing, so Valentino needs to steady him, a hand on the small of his back, fingers hooked on his belt loops. He feels mean, though—suddenly. Not a pleasant sensation.

His smile turns harsh. It’s like holding a knife between his teeth.

“Are you even old enough to drink here?”

Valentino wants Marc wrong-footed, wants to prod at him until he winces or—well. But Marc only shakes his head, beaming, crucially still covered in lipstick. There’s some on his collar too. And another drippy, blurred mark on his throat.

“Nope! But Honda, ah—” He makes an exaggerated gesture for passing money around, almost trips over himself.

Marc ends up knocking into Valentino, all wild-eyed, sloppy with drink. Their chests are brushing. Valentino—it hasn’t moved an inch, that prickly, unkind feeling, thorns going down his throat when he swallows.

This close, he can smell Marc—sweat, champagne, something sticky and too sweet and overly feminine. It’s cloying. Nauseating along the stench of way too many people packed together, writhing or dancing

It grates on Valentino’s nerves for the first time in his life, that there are so many people out on a Sunday night—Monday morning, whatever, it’s even worse if it’s already Monday. He has no idea why.

“Ah, ah, underage drinking, bribery?” Valentino waggles his eyebrows in mock reproach, counting on his fingers. Marc immediately straightens—tries to, at least. Christ, alright. “You’re being bad. Very naughty.”

There’s something about Marc, in his too shiny eyes, in the stubborn way he juts out his jaw. His bottom lip wobbles, though. “It’s my first win.”

“First time going out without your dad too, I guess.”

He mouths along Valentino’s words before they dawn on him. Blinks. Scowls.

Valentino doesn’t give him time to answer. It’s easy now, to try and make him squirm. “Allora, did you sneak out of your hotel room? Told your dad you’d stay with your brother—what’s his name—and play video games?”

Marc ducks his head to the side, lips pressed together. It’s hard to say for sure, but Valentino thinks he’s flustered. Blushing. A nice, girlish pink—a lot more proper than the red on his mouth. Goes along with his tanned skin better.

It needles under Valentino’s skin. Everything does—Marc, and lipstick, and the club, and the girl, maybe girls, and Marc again. He can feel his hands prickling.

“Can’t miss out, hm?” He slides his tongue over his teeth, watches Marc watch him with his usual shamelessness. “When will you get the chance to get sucked off in a dirty restroom again, right? The smell of piss is, ah, an experience.”

Marc warbles in a breath. “It isn’t like that,” he protests weakly.

Valentino raises an eyebrow. It is very much like that—he remembers Donington Park well enough, in 2000, how he’d crawled back to his hotel room at 8 in the morning horribly, horribly smug.

He reaches down between them. Marc jolts, sucks in his stomach on an instinct, his eyes huge, like a baby deer’s. His belt is done all wrong, crooked, too loose, the lip hanging out. The button of his jeans is open. At least, he thinks, less amused than he makes himself look, he remembered to zipper up.

Valentino tsks. “I think it is,” he says, shaking his head, pretending to be oh so disappointed. “You’re being reckless. What will the journalists say when they catch you like this? You don’t want a scandal.”

Marc is frozen in place. Valentino catches his throat bobbing when he plays his button hole, threading his finger into it.

“You’re making fun of me,” he manages to say. It’s a reedy, sullen thing.

He barks out a laugh. “Not too much, you’re still here.”

Maybe it’s the waste of it all getting to him, scratching under his skin. Marc is heavier than him, already more muscular. With the right bra, he might look like he has a nice pair of tits. And there’re his eyes, almost demure, long lashes fanning over his cheeks. And his mouth, too—pretty, insolent. Stained with some random girl’s lipstick.

So Valentino thought about it. Only a bit, in his defense. Hard to not, when you have something so eager one step lower than you on the podium. All that adoration…

The cut of his jaw is too sharp, and his voice too deep, but if you look at him right, or gag him with something, it’s just like fucking a woman in the ass.

Valentino clicks his tongue. Taps low on Marc’s stomach, feeling it jump under his touch. “Am I making too much fun of you?”

He speaks slowly, almost thoughtfully. Whiplash hits Marc like a slap on the face, and he hesitates for a moment, scrambling for words. His gaze keeps sliding down, to where Valentino is touching him. It’s not hard, to figure out what he wants.

“No, it’s—I’m having fun,” he says, almost too quiet to hear.

The words are scorching against the side of Valentino’s face.

“Odd idea of fun.”

Marc laughs again, like Valentino is absolutely hilarious. Or like he’s drunk. Valentino isn’t—drunk, that is—but he isn’t thinking, either.

He licks his thumb, then has do it again—his mouth tastes dry, like something has died inside it. Marc stops laughing. It’s the easiest thing in the world, to brush away the sloppy kiss mark on the hollow of his throat. Straighten his collar. Rub at his chin until it’s clean too.

The lipstick was cheap. It comes off just like that.

“What are you doing?” He asks, breathlessly, in a rattle of Spanish.

Doesn’t move one inch away, of course. Valentino grins.

“You had a little something on your face,” he shrugs, “I’m looking out for you.”

“Thanks,” Marc manages to croak out.

But there’s still—on his mouth proper. He wonders, idly, out of his own body, how easy it would be to wipe that off too. With his tongue, maybe. How easy it would be to go from that to getting his hand inside Marc’s jeans right there.

He doesn’t want to. In this light, now that it isn’t so smudged, Marc could be in makeup. Really. The waxy red glints.

“There.” Marc is trembling in his hold, like a live wire. Valentino trails his finger over his lips, too light. “You don’t want to meet Honda looking like a whore, do you?”

Marc makes a strangled noise—Valentino thinks he does. He can barely hear anything through the pound of blood of in his ears, over the thrumming line of heat between the pad of his thumb and his cock.

“I—”

“You should go. Enjoy your night,” Valentino cuts him off, very magnanimously. “It is your first win, no?”

Marc nods, dazed. Maybe—maybe when he wins again.

[caxde]

dark honey | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, working on the new café next to Family Video and being best friends with Steve is your day to day, until feelings start to blossom one late night. (6.1k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

part 2

-

“Just remember, I can’t pick you up today” you let out, with an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah, yeah I know, don’t worry.” Your little brother beamed up at you, his hair as wild as ever, even when it’s covered by his hat. 

“‘Kay, be careful, have a good day Dust!” You scream out at the little boy running inside the old building. He just lifts his hand up, giving you a little thumbs up as he runs up to his friends. 

You smile to yourself, the scene looks as though it had been picked out of a movie, the bright sun hitting you softly, the skies are blue and clear and you’ve got all of the day ahead of you. Well, not all of it was for you, you still had to go to work and whatnot, but as luck would have it, you absolutely adored your job. 

The little coffee shop had opened up a month ago, and it’s not like you didn’t like stocking videos and spending time on Family Video, but truth be told, you could do with the change.         Granted, it was next door, and it was slow at times, but it didn’t matter. 

You parked on your usual spot, the music on your car lingering for a second as you enjoyed the last notes of the song escaping through the speakers. 

Today, you were on your own, your coworker had opened for you, and was waiting for you to arrive so they could leave. They had begged you to cover for them so they could go to The University of Indianapolis and hopefully enroll onto one of their curses. Of course you agreed, you didn’t even need to know the reason, you always helped everyone, even if it meant that you would have to do a longer shift than usual, you didn’t really care as long as you felt useful. 

So there you were now, the first rush was almost over, and the little coffee shop was settling now. Someone was enjoying a book quietly by the window, and two friends were having a catch up moment, chatting animatedly over their black coffee and croissants. 

You turned your back to the door as you took advantage to clean a bit, the counter had some spills here and there, and your fingers seemed to be stained with the smell of the beans you had to grind. 

And you knew he was there, feeling his stare on your back as he stood patiently on the other side of the counter. You felt yourself smiling before you turned to him. 

It was his routine, you noticed. When you worked together he always came late and with a coffee stain on the corner of his mouth. Now he came five minutes before he had to clock in so he could say hello to you and have his coffee there, or to go if he was in a rush. 

“Hi” You said, warmth in your voice. 

“Hey” He said back, his head nodding at you as he pursed his lips together, his hair bouncing. “You doing okay?” You smiled as you always did before nodding at his questions. His voice was still hoarse from waking up. 

You turn around, placing a to-go cup on the coffee machine, starting it as you turn back at him. 

“I haven’t told you what I want yet.” He teased, the back of his hand scratching his eye, as if to get the rest of the sleep out. 

“You always order the same.” You tell him, your cheeks burning from glee to get to see him, even for five minutes. 

“I do not…” He scoffs, trying to sound offended, but his grin gives his happiness away. 

You shake your head, turning back to finish his order, and he just stands there, fixated on the way your black shirt is tucked into your flared jeans, and how your hair falls away from your face, all falling gracefully behind you, effortless. He had once asked you how you did your hair, and when you told him that you were too lazy to do anything else that wasn’t air dry it, he was too embarrassed to tell you about his long ritual, so he lied and said he did that too. His mind was snapped away from the colourful memory as soon as he saw you smiling at him, his little to-go on your hands. 

“There you go, Harrington.” You muttered as you placed it in front of him. 

“Thanks, Henderson.” He smiled at you as he took the first sip.

You turned away, continuing to clean up, when you heard his exasperated sigh. 

“I’m not letting you pay.” You remind him, as you look him over your shoulder, acting as if you’re too busy to actually do it. 

“Someday, you’ll have to let me pay!” He insisted. 

“Maybe, not today though, you’ll be late.” You tell him, nodding at the big clock on the right wall. 

“Shit, you’re right.” He said, taking another rushed sip. “When are you getting off?” He asked, with the same grin he always had. 

“Late, closing today.” You let him know. As he starts to walk to the door, you see how his face changes to one of concern. 

“Do you want me to pick up Dustin?” You look at him, briefly before smiling at the ground in a nod, you know that he’s serious, and that he’d do it if you asked. He’d do anything really if you asked, though you didn’t know it yet. 

“If you do, call him, I told him I couldn’t.” You say, gratitude obvious in your tone, his cheeks rise as he smiles at you. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a break I can use.” He opens the door, and takes a second to look at you one more time. “Bye.” 

“Bye Steve.” You say, more to yourself than him, as you see him rushing next door, given that his shift had started 2 minutes ago. 

-

Even for April, it was unreasonably cold that night, and you were glad that your shift was coming to an end. You weren’t exhausted, but you’d lie to yourself if you said that you would do anything else that wasn’t going straight to your bed once you were home. 

And obviously, it helped tremendously that Steve had come to sit at one of the back tables as he waited for you to finish, so you could both head home at the same time, as you used to do when you worked together. 

Honestly, you didn’t work that much back then. Sure, when it was a weekend you had no time to spare, but in the weekdays you two were usually messing around, his favourite game to play with you was throwing you small crumpled up paper balls, and seeing as you failed miserably to catch most of them, and celebrating when you did. It was stupid, but it was always full of giggles. He liked the sound of your voice when he managed to make you laugh. 

But now, Steve has found a new favourite past-time. He spent his time trying to find a movie you’d like, and pitching it to you when he came over his break, or when he walked to your car. He also enjoyed what he was doing now. Sitting down, acting as if he’s deep into a book, or magazine or whatever Robin had left behind, when really he was just looking at you. It was stupid and he was aware of it, but seeing you enjoy something you actually liked doing like making people coffee and teas and giving them pastries, seeing the way your voice would pitch up whenever a kid when to the counter and asked you for anything, and you’d smile deeply at them and make them laugh… He wasn’t sure why he liked doing this so much, he just let himself enjoy it, or rather, enjoy you. 

It was empty now, except for him. The clock marked eight o’clock, so you walked over to the lights, shutting them off. He stood up and turned the little sign of the door, from we’re open to sorry! we’re closed. You gleaned at him as he rested against the door, waiting for you to finish up. One final wipe of the counter, the glass cabinet was spotless, the coffee grinder was clean and it all smelled good. You took off your apron and folded it, keeping neatly for tomorrow. 

You smiled as you relaxed your shoulders, happy to be done, you looked at him, while he opened the door for you, and he waited beside you as you closed. You started walking, as he started talking about a new movie that had just arrived, and how you will definitely like this one, you grined up at him, as you shaked up a shiver out of your body. He stopped immediately.

“You’re shivering?” He asked, looking down at you, his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket. 

“It’s alright, I’ll get in the car and I’ll warm up.” You try to brush it off, but you see how his frown appears, and you start shaking your head no, when you see him take his hands out. “Steve, my car’s right there, it’s okay.” You try to negotiate with him, to no avail, he had already made a decision on his mind. 

“You always get sick.” He says, placing his jacket on your shoulders, and playfully pushing you to continue walking. 

“Thanks.” you say, your voice quieter than usual. 

You’re unsure why, but something in you warms up by that. Is it the fact that he knows you well enough to know that you’re easily sick? Or is it how he had bent down ever so slightly and placed the jacket carefully over you? You’re not sure and you don’t care, you’re just grateful he’s there, and that you can spend some more time with him. 

Maybe that’s why you’re not really paying attention anymore. 

Maybe you’re just too focused on the review of the movie he desperately wants you to see, or maybe it's the way his profile looks with the street lights shining behind him. However, you’re glad he’s there. 

And maybe that's why you don’t realise the way your foot had bent over a rock that you hadn’t seen. Not only did you now have a sprained ankle, but you almost fell to the ground. If it weren’t for him. And the way his hand had reached out for you, and how his arm had wrapped around your waist in one smooth swoop. 

You weren’t sure if your heart was beating fast because you thought you were falling, or because Steve was holding you close. 

And he wasn’t sure either. 

He just knew that he thought you were going to hurt yourself, so he needed to make sure you didn’t, so he just grabbed you as close and as tight as he could. His hand was on your waist, and for some reason he was the one short of breath. 

His eyes looked deep into yours, as your chest raised up and down faster than before, he gave you a half smile, as he helped you to your feet again. Now you were grateful the sun was going down, since you could feel the burning on your cheeks, growing pink by the second. 

His hand lingered on the small of your back for a moment too long as he made sure you could stand up okay on your own. 

“Are you okay?” He said, his voice hardly above a whisper, still looking attentively at you.

You can’t help but laugh a bit, maybe nervously, maybe because you don’t really know what to say. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking up at him, his brown eyes looking at you, you can see the worry wash away from them as you smile at him. “Good catch.” 

That makes him laugh and you know that everything is fine now. 

But you still don’t understand why his touch has left your skin burning, or why you can’t seem to fall asleep once you're on your bed, why every time you close your eyes you see his eyes looking deeply into yours, and you remember his touch.  

-

“You’ll pick me up today?” Dustin asked, sitting on the passenger sit, with his usual up-beat tone. 

“Mmh, yeah.” You replayed lazily, sleep still present on you. 

“You shouldn’t be driving if you’re still asleep.” He remarked, at witch you scoffed, head tilting a bit as you focused on the red light. 

“You’re not driving.” You glanced at him, his mischievous grin on his face made you laugh at his direction. 

“Soon enough.” He chirped. You notice how his eyes focus up for a second, as a thought seems to worry him. 

“Spit it out Dustin.” You tell him, as the light changes from red to green. 

“Can my friends come today?” YOu scrunch your eyebrows in response, not really understanding why he was asking you. 

“Did you ask mom?” 

“Mom’s going away with Hank.” You chuckle at him, and the aversion he seemed to have with the older man. 

“Hot Hank?” You tease him, as you see his face scrunching up at your words. 

“Eww. You’re disgusting!” 

“Come on! Mom’s got a hot boyfriend” You tell him, closing distance with the school now.

“Gross.” He mutters as he hears you laugh, your right hand brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“What?”

“What?” His eyebrows lifted as he looked at you, fear and curiosity on his face. 

“Dusty, I do not.” You tell him, as you fail to park your car for the first time. 

“But you like someone?” He kept pushing for an answer, and if you were honest, your rosy cheeks didn’t exactly help you right now. 

“Oh yes, his name is David, he’s a singer from britain…” you begin to mock him, in an attempt to distract him. 

“Okay, okay… So can they come?” He asks you, his eyes looking at you through his baseball cap. 

“Yeah, sure. Do you need anything from the store?” You ask as you celebrate that you have finally parked the car successfully. 

“Just some snacks and stuff like that.” 

“Okay kid, am I taking anyone else home later?” 

“Oh, I dunno.” You nodded at him, as he opened the door, running away as he does every morning, leaving you with an upside down smile.

-

When Dustin had asked if his friends could come over, you expected four high schoolers squatting on your couch. What you didn’t really expect was a party of seven boys invading your living room, pulling chairs together, surrounding the dining table with papers scattered, dice, figurines, and everything that had the word nerd written all over them. Eddie had mouthed a sorry at you as soon as he had crossed the door, seeing you shocked at the amount of people that were now in your home, completely ruining your plan to just sit on your couch and enjoy your free afternoon, catching in some of the movies that Steve had insisted that you watch. 

However, you were grateful you had bought snacks and everything Dustin had suggested. You weren’t aware of just how hungry they get. 

You decided that hiding in the kitchen might be your best shot, if you wanted some peace and quiet. You were bored out of your mind, and didn’t really know what to do, so you did what you always did, you scavenged around your cabinets to see what you could find, some activity that would distract you long enough. 

You're unaware of your surroundings once you’ve decided to start baking. You had some leftover flour, some brown sugar and a little packet of yeast, you knew you could make something with that. You walked to your fridge, where some eggs, vanilla extract and chocolate was there. Okay then, you think to yourself, chocolate cookies it is. 

You were so deep in thought that you jumped when you saw him there all of a sudden. Bouncing a bit once you find him there, resting on the side of your kitchen door. 

“Shit.” You mutter, looking at the ground, and being relieved that you didn’t drop the egg. 

“Sorry.” Steve said in a soft-spoken voice, raising his hands in an apologetic movement. 

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting you here.” You let him know, closing distance with the counter, dropping the rest of the ingredients. 

“Well if I’m not welcome I’ll just go” You know he’s teasing you, that Steve Harrington smirk gave him away, and your soft smile made his shoulders drop. 

“I didn’t know you were in Hellfire.” You tell him, as you search for the measuring cup, avoiding his eye contact. 

“I’m not”

“Oh, then… What are you doing here?” 

What was he doing here? If he was honest with himself, he just wanted to come over and spend time with you, he missed you. He kept telling himself that you're his friend, and that that’s all there is, but deep down, he knew that his fingertips still burned every time he thought about how close you two were a week ago, and how he had held you tight and close.  

“You weren’t working, so I guessed you uh… Where home?” He seemed to ask it more to himself than you, as you look over at him, you see how he’s scratching the back of his neck nervously. You knew him well enough, but refrained from telling him anything else, nodding at him with a soft smile. 

“Well I’m here so…” You pointed at the little chair you had laying about, so he could sit beside you. Making him shorter once he sat down, so he was the one looking up at you now. 

“So, what are we baking?” He chirped, which made you giggle. 

“You’re banned from baking Harrington.” You teased him, as you pointed at him with the empty measuring cup, the flour and sugar already in the bowl. 

“I only burned one cake!” He tried to argue, his eyebrows raised. 

“And that’s one too many!” You rebutted, laughing animatedly. He seemed to melt, as he hid his head behind his hands, stifling his own laugh. “You can be my sous chef.” 

“Deal.” 

You nod as you start biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t been this close with Steve since the failed fall, and you could feel how the hairs of your arms raised every time his body came a bit too close. 

And it was confusing. 

You had him chopping up some of the chocolate bar, and when his body pressed into yours to dunk the small pieces into the sweet mixture, you felt it again, that shortness of breath, that electricity, and that tingling, it was there, contaminating the air. 

Steve felt it too, but in his defense, he had never been able to see your eyes from that distance, and he had not appreciated enough how your hands were delicate and skilled at everything they did. 

The cookies were now formed and in the oven, and you felt a new sense of achievement. You smiled deeply at him. Steve looked down at you with his eyes deeply focused on the way your lips curved, he raised his hand and you high fived it instinctively, what he did later however you didn’t mind or were going to stop it. 

Even Steve didn’t know why his fingers decided to tangle with yours, or why his eyes were locked into them, feeling how soft your skin was, and enjoying your touch, the softness of it. They fitted, he taught, like a puzzle that had just been completed. He also liked that your thumb had begun a short pattern on the back of his hand, caressing him a bit. And if he wasn’t so focused on looking at your intertwined hands, he might have noticed how your cheeks were now warm and pinkish now. 

“Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie’s voice coming into the kitchen, and you both let go all of a sudden, both embarrassed at the moment you had just shared. 

“Hey, M” you replayed, your voice shaking ever so slightly, just enough for Steve to notice and for him to grin at the ground. “What’s up?” 

“Um-” He took a moment, a second really to let his eyes wander between the both of you, as you nervously scratched your forehead with your index finger. “We’re almost done with the campaign.” He lets you know. “And we’re playing tonight at the Hideout, wondering if you wanted to come?” 

“Oh sure Eddie, I’ll be ready.” You blurb out, trying to get him to leave, not really thinking of the boy next to you, nor registering the way he was now biting the inside of his cheek trying not to blurt out a very loud what?

“Great.” He smirks, as he taps away at the door frame, his rings clinging at the touch. “Oh, the cookies smell great by the way.” He says as he rushes back to the living room. 

“Thank you, M.” 

“Guess I’ll go now.” Steve mutters, and you squint at him, not understanding why he sounds hurt. 

“What-Why?” You're even more confused now, seeing that he also looks hurt. 

“I don’t feel like going to The Hideout, and seeing you looking at Eddie all night long.” He scoffs, you immediately roll your eyes, and shake your head ever so slightly. 

“What are you on about Steve?” You’re starting to get upset at him, not really following him. 

“Nothing, I just rather stay home tonight, okay?” He’s cold now, and you’re in shock. Not really understanding or following what’s going on. 

“Oh, uhm… okay?” You half ask as you see him head to the door. Staying hopeful. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 

-

It’s not that you were mad. Or confused. 

Honestly, you were just uncomfortable. 

You hadn’t taken time to process anything that had happened in such a short time, though you suppose it hadn’t been that short. 

You had known Steve ever since you started middle school. You had been close friends, best friends even for as long as you can remember, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through your veins, or the way he had left all of a sudden after holding your hand so softly, but something was clear in your head now, you were sure you liked him. 

To make matters worse, Eddie had pointed it out on the ride here. 

He told you that he didn’t know Steve for that long, but that he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen him so shy around anyone but you. You scoffed it off, and told him to fuck off. 

But now that you were four beers deep, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his stupid eyes, and his stupid smile. You had been sitting down at the bar for some time, and the friendly bartender was keeping you company, he had told you that Corroded Coffin was running late, and that they wouldn't probably play for another hour. 

You weren’t sure you could wait that long, but then again, Eddie had been your ride. 

“Hey…” Eddie’s voice was coming from behind you, and you turned around slowly, in a faze. 

“Eddie” You chirped, looking at him, you realised that the alcohol had finally taken over your body, so you were more giggly than usual. 

“I’m sorry” He muttered, his head slightly tilted so his bangs were out of the way. “I think we’ll play later than we thought.” 

“S’fine” You blabbered, as you moved your hand at him, bumping his chest in a playful manner. “Maybe I’ll go home, that’s fine?” He nodded, with a laugh. 

“You’ll be hungover tomorrow.” He joked, nudging you back. 

“Mmh, you bet.” You jumped from your stool until you reached the ground. “Bye Edds!” you said, heading for the exit. 

“Wait, you’ve got someone to drive you home?” You shook your head no. “It’s raining, like a lot, and you live so far away…” He tried to explain to you, slowly, knowing that your brain was working slower than usual. 

“I’ll take a call, just second.” You turn around, the friendly bartender already pointing you at the direction of the little telephone post on the beat up wall. “Aw, thanks.” 

Once you had the handset on your hand, and you were dialing the number, you began biting the inside of your cheek, you were half ashamed that his number had popped out so fast into your mind. You hoped he didn’t mind. 

“He-Hello?” He sounded half asleep, his voice croaky and soft. 

“ ‘m sorry.” You let out. 

“Shit, are you okay?” You could feel the panic in his voice, you didn’t want him to worry. 

“Yeah, I just, I don’t wanna be here anymore, and I… yours’s the only number I remember.” You were slurring your words together now.

“Are you still in The Hideout?” He asked, trying to remain calm. 

“Mmmh.” You muttered, his voice seemed to belong there, right by your ear. 

“I’ll be there in no time ‘kay?” 

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice now beginning to break, feeling remorse and anxious for making him worry, for having called him. “I just..-” 

“I know, just stay there, I’m coming to get you okay, honey?” Honey

“M’kay.” 

You could only hear the cut out line now through the receiver, but it still rang on your ears. honey honey honey. 

-

As soon as he had heard your voice on the receiver his heart had stopped for a second, worry leaked into his body. Maybe it was irrational, because he knew you were safe regardless. But for some reason, knowing wasn’t enough, he needed to make sure, he needed to see you and see that you weren’t too far gone. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t realise that he has sprinted out of his house with his old checkered pajama pants, and his faded out Hawkins High shirt. That he has mismatched socks and his shoes aren’t all the way in, with his heel out. He only realises the state that he’s in once he tries to open the car, his keys jingling on his hands, and his socks now damp from the wet pavement that the pouring rain has left, he doesn’t care that his hair is wet, or that his shirt is colder now. Your voice is the only thing he’s got on his mind, how you sounded shy and uncomfortable, how you mumbled out words in your most sincere tone. 

How he had to cut you off before you told him something you didn’t mean. 

How he hated that he wanted to tell you something he might regret. 

It was hopeless.

 As soon as he arrived at The Hideout, and saw you out against the wall, covered from the rain he knew, deep down, that his feelings for you had changed. His jaw unclentched, his shoulders relaxed, and his breathing was back to normal. He was calm once he saw you, and your eyes seemed brighter once you realise he was there. 

With his brown hair wet, sticking to his face, but the kindest look in the way he looked at you, you rushed inside the car, relived that he camed, and thankful for the warmth that escaped the ventilation system from his BMW. 

-

Your cheeks have been hurting for a while. Warmth in them. 

Steve had drove you home, and then back to his when you told him you didn’t want to go back home tonight. 

You hadn’t said anything, and he already had some old spare gym shorts and a sweatshirt out for you.

“Here.” You’re unsure you’ve ever heard his voice that soft. 

Your hand travels up to meet his, that same electricity growing bigger between you, from the tip of his finger that touched the back of your hand, to your whole entire body as you looked at him through your eyelashes. His eyes seemed bigger, and his lips pinker. 

“Uh, I-”

“You can take a shower… I’ll uh…” He’s lost once again, his heart beating faster than ever before. 

You find yourself not really speaking. You nod at him with some confusion in your mind. The hot shower helps in a way. 

Your body is relaxed at last, but your mind still feels like it needs to be ironed out. You’re pretty sure you know why this is happening, but you’re scared to even think of it, because if it is true you’ll just complicate it all. If you really think that your skin tingles every time he brushes it, you’ll have to admit to yourself it is because you really want him to hold you tightly, and that you’re curious as to the way his chest looks under his shirt, and that you wonder how his lips would feel against your own skin. 

It all smelled like him. The expensive shampoo he had made your hair feel softer, and you find yourself daydreaming about how it would feel to run your fingers through his, as you brush yours out. His sweatshirt, his towels, it made you dizzy for the first time. 

But coming back to the kitchen and seeing him cooking up something for you, while he hummed some song you didn’t quite understand, almost took your breath away. You could feel how your lips curled upwards, and how your cheeks started to warm up again. 

You're back in a daze, and it might be him coming to pick you up, or maybe it’s him taking care of you, or actually it’s what you’ve come to realise. You’re falling for him.  

It doesn’t really matter, because you can always blame the alcohol, so you just approach him, and hug him tightly from behind. 

Your hands around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, your face buried into him, breathing him in. 

His heart skips a beat as soon as he feels your hands around him. He’s beaming, and his smile deepens when he feels your thumb rubbing his stomach in a soft motion. It gets worse when he feels the way you nuzzle your face into his back, a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

“Hey” He whispered, afraid that if he moved you’d pull away. 

“Hi” You answered, speaking just as softly as he did. “What’re you doing?” You mumbled against his skin, moving a bit so he could actually hear you. 

“Oh- Uhm… I just, I thought that you’d be kinnda hungry so…” You can’t help yourself from giggling, your head poking out, arms still around him. 

“Mac and Cheese?” You ask, your voice higher in pitch, once you see the empty Kraft dinner box laying on the counter. 

“Well, I’m not that good at cooking, but this is easy enough to make.” He tries to convince you as he keeps stirring the pot. 

He finally turns around, his head looking down at you. The dim light of the kitchen makes his eyes have the colour of dark honey, and you’re close enough to him to count his beauty marks if you wanted to. You realise you’re still holding him, you don’t want to pull away, and he doesn’t want you to either. Your breath shortens when you see his hand approaching your face, placing a strand of damp hair behind your ear, you can’t help yourself. 

“You’re pretty.” You tell him, voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, and he seems to forget that he’s supposed to keep stirring the pot for a second. 

He knows you’re not lying. But it doesn’t stop him from not believing you. 

“You’re drunk.” He replies, hiding a nervous laugh. But it stays with him. pretty. 

“And you’re still pretty.” You let out in a short laugh. He shakes his head with a soft smile, turning back to the stove as he finishes what he was doing. 

You had realised it before, but he really is beautiful. Sure, handsome could also be used, but the word pretty seemed to fit him better. Steve’s soft  and kind, and warm. Boys that are handsome are always cold and rough and mean. 

“Eat up, Honey.” He whispers as he hands you a hot plate, his hand brushing yours as you grab it. 

There it was again, honey. 

Every time this word leaves his lips it sounds sweet, and calming, and full of care for you. 

“You should have some too, s’good.” You let out as soon as you try it. He just giggles and nods, serving a plate for himself. 

You eat quietly, stealing glances from time to time. Smiling when you catch the other staring, and giggling while asking a soft what. It didn’t matter, and it didn’t need to be said, but it was clear that both of you were starting to change, Steve had it clear in his mind. He has absolutely fallen for you. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t feel drunk anymore, the beers had washed away a long time ago, and you felt in an absolute daze every time you look over at him, you know that this feeling in your chest of vertigo and excitement was just a sign, a warning one, a i could love you if you let me kind of feeling that you weren’t sure you could verbalize. 

It comes out when you have to go to sleep. 

You had slept in his bed a hundred times before, countless sleepovers with and without Robin where you shared that space, but for some reason, both of you knew this was different. 

You always ask him to hug you until you fall asleep, but you had never felt your chest about to burst before asking. And even if your voice shakes a little, you manage to ask him, softly. 

“Stevie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you hug me?” He nods as soon as he hears your question. 

He pulls his body closer to yours, opening his arms so you’ll rest your head on his chest. He waits for your leg to land above his waist, pulling him in as you always have done, so he can pull you in. Only this time, every caress, every touch that your skin makes with his seem to ignite another part of his body, goosebumps appearing. His hands get buried in your hair, and your fingers get stuck doodling something on his chest. 

“Did you use my shampoo?” He lets out with a soft laugh as soon as the familiar scent hits his nose. 

“Yeah, fabregé… Didn’t know you were this fancy.” You tease him, feeling how his heart beats, a soft lullaby.

“Yeah well… You haven’t seen the Farrah Fawcet hair spray.” He mumbles, playing with your hair. He knew that would make you chuckle, and he smiles when he hears the noise escaping from your lips, wondering how you sound in other circumstances. 

“Farrah Fawcet?” You move your head up to look at him, a soft grin on his lips. 

“Yeah.” He nods as he says. The hand that was in your hair is now holding your face, his thumb stroking your jawline softly, playing with your bottom lip when it comes into contact. 

You feel how fast his heart is beating, which can only mean that he can tell how loud yours is. He's lost in your eyes, you're lost in his lips.

“Steve?” 

“Yes?” 

You need a second longer to take him in for a second, he looked angelic with the street lights that creeped from his window. And you’re sure your heart had just skipped a beat. 

“I really want to kiss you.” You tell him. 

“I really want to kiss you too.” He reassures you, his eyes twinkling with sincerity. “But you’re drunk.” 

“ ‘m not.” You try to plea, but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You feel his hand pulling you closer to him, and his lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead. He stays like that, enjoying you, taking it all in, trying to talk even with a knot in his throat. 

“If you wake up tomorrow and you still want me to kiss you, I will.” He whispers. 

You nod, pulling away enough so you could look at him. You’re unsure as to why he’s being so careful around you. 

“Steve?” A calm sleepy tone left your voice. 

“Honey?” He asked as you rested your head in his chest again, his hand still on the crook of your neck.

“Will you kiss me tomorrow?” 

“I’ll kiss you anytime you ask me to.” 

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3 part 2

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

people you know | franco colapinto

🏵️ synopsis: You’re trying to move on after your ex, now a Formula 1 star, becomes famous, but seeing his face everywhere makes it harder than you expected. tags: jealousy, angst, trying to move on after a break up. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 1.2k words)

part 1

You're sitting in your kitchen on a humid late-summer evening, absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram while waiting for the pasta water to boil. Your timeline is the usual: vacation photos, friends’ engagement announcements, and a few cat memes – until a familiar face stops you cold. You blink, suddenly focused on the screen. It's a post from Formula 1’s official account: “Breaking News! Franco Colapinto to replace Logan Sargeant for the remainder of the season with Williams Racing!”

It’s him: your ex. The same guy who used to fumble with his old beat-up car keys in your apartment hallway, who hated public speaking, who once told you over cheap beer that he'd "never give up" on his dream of making it to Formula 1. 

Your heart stutters. The boiling water spills over, hissing against the stovetop, but you can't look away. 

You swipe to his Instagram account, which has exploded to millions of followers; his latest post has hundreds of thousands of likes. 

There’s something in your chest that feels tight and uncomfortable. Not jealousy exactly, but the uncomfortable sense of having your own little piece of history – the memories only you two shared – thrust out into a space where millions of people could now claim a part of it too. 

He’s no longer just a face in old Facebook photos or an occasional memory triggered by a song; he’s public, untouchable, and no longer yours in any sense of the word.

A notification pops up on your phone: your best friend has sent you a screenshot of the announcement with a simple, incredulous message: “Did you know?”

part 2

Weeks pass, and your life starts to feel like it’s caught in a loop, a strange orbit with your ex at the center. The usual silence in the office kitchen is now broken by someone asking, “Did you see the race last weekend?” and even if you don’t reply, even if you keep your head down and sip your coffee, you know they’re talking about him – the person who used to sit with you in the mornings, groggy and half-awake, arguing over who had to make breakfast.

It’s like the world is suddenly obsessed. Your friends casually bring him up during brunch, mentioning how wild it is to see “someone you kind of knew” becoming famous. Someone at work even asks if you ever went to school together when they catch you scrolling through an F1 article during your lunch break. You laugh it off, saying “No, not really,” and then immediately wish you could take it back because technically it’s true, you didn’t go to school together, but you knew him better than any random old classmate.

His success is everywhere, suffocatingly present, and there’s a part of you that almost wants to scream, “I knew him before all of this.”

One night, you’re out with friends at a noisy bar, the type of place where conversation is half-shouted over the music. The conversation inevitably turns to him, with someone pulling up an Instagram video of his post-race interview on their phone, shoving it across the table for everyone to see. You feel a knot in your stomach as his face fills the screen. 

“Can you believe it?” someone says, and there’s a wave of excitement, admiration, fascination at the table. You force a smile, nodding along, barely hearing the rest of the conversation. 

Back at home, you collapse onto the couch, the sound of the bar chatter still ringing in your ears. You open Instagram, and before you can stop yourself, you’re scrolling through his stories again. His follower count ticks up again. A notification pops up – this time from an old mutual friend: “Crazy about Franco, right? Who would’ve thought!”

Who would’ve thought? 

You close the app, toss your phone to the other side of the couch, and let out a sigh. The world might be captivated by his meteoric rise, but to you, it’s a reminder of what you left behind – what you chose to leave behind – and why it’s harder than ever to look away.

part 3

You didn’t think you’d run into him again, at least not like this. Sure, he’s everywhere now: plastered across national TV, splashed all over the sports headlines, and, yes, even appearing in ads on your Pinterest feed. You’re not going to lie, you did click on his name when you saw it trending on Twitter last week. It was just... curiosity. Nothing more. At least, that’s what you told yourself. So, no, it’s not like you imagined you’d never see his face again.

But you didn’t expect to see him in person.

It’s your sister’s pre-wedding dinner. A simple, cozy evening meant for close friends and family. Nothing overwhelming. It’s supposed to be safe.

And yet, there he is.

You’re standing in your parents’ backyard, glass of wine in hand, just enjoying your sister’s friends laughing and chatting around you. You’ve finally let your guard down, the tension of seeing his face everywhere slipping away for just a moment. Then you hear his voice, unmistakable, from just a few meters behind you.

Your heart stutters, and you freeze, the easy laughter around you turning to white noise. You turn, and the person you’re staring at is different now. More polished. More put together. You wonder if that’s what success gets you: smoothed out rough edges, glossier, shinier, a little less of that boy laughing too loud about nothing in particular.

Before you can even decide how to react, your sister is there, smiling so brightly you’d think he’s the guest of honor. She’s introducing him like he’s always been part of the family, like this moment isn’t turning your world upside down. And, of course, he is family, related to her fiancé, so you curse yourself for not even considering he would make it.

You nod and smile, feeling your face stretch into something polite and practiced, hoping it looks normal. You can barely register the introductions, just fragments: “Remember when he used to talk about racing?” “And now look! He’s actually in Formula 1!” Your sister’s fiancé laughs, as if it’s some incredible, impossible feat. And you want to tell him that yes, you remember it all. Every late-night conversation about impossible dreams, every frustrated rant when things seemed out of reach. You were the one who heard it first, who knew the struggle when it was real and uncertain.

But now he’s here, larger than life and far from you, and you feel like you’re standing in some alternate reality – watching him turn into everything he promised he’d become, without you there to see it.

You didn’t even expect to see him tonight. Honestly, why would you? Your sister never mentioned he’d be here. Later she’ll tell you she assumed you’d know, just like she assumed he’d be there. After all, back when you were still together, the four of you had talked about the wedding a lot. Back then, the idea of him not being at her wedding would have been laughable.

You’ll just nod, swallowing hard, forcing a smile. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” 

When you text your best friend, all you write is: I think I hate him.

And even as you press send, you know that’s not true. 

You stare at the message, watching the three dots dance as your friend replies: You don’t. You’re just hurt.

[arotheosis]

It’s all Whirred Up (NSBU Swap AU concept)

Essentially I started thinking about what it might be like if the action heroes were the ones in the real world, and the video world characters were the action heroes. I tried my best to switch things up so it feels different enough, although I’m still a little unsure about some character roles.

Will I ever actually sit down and write this properly? Who knows

In an old strip mall in Lake Elsinore sits one of the last remaining video rental stores in the country: Slater’s Video Superstore.

With the rise of streaming and digital media, however, the store is on its last legs. Its last week in fact, and its employees prepare to close down and find a new road to take in life.

Steven “King” Skin is a Princeton student with a bright future in politics. He’s nearing the end of his gap year, and wondering whether he really wants to go back to school after all. He works on the finances of the video store.

As he almost mindlessly balances the the store’s financial spreadsheets, he watches on one of the video store screens: Liv Skyler, master thief. Her name is whispered amongst criminal circles like a legend, because she can steal without even leaving a single trace behind.

Victor Ethanol is a young man with a dream of pursuing Formula 1 racing, but working several odd jobs to provide for his family. He does occasional maintanance/ plumbing work for the businesses in the strip mall, including the video store, which he visits frequently.

Trying to get him to take a break from working so hard, his brother Shaun asks if he wants to watch a movie. The movie’s protagonist? One Wendell Morris, former biker gang member who has become an informant for several underground organizations. He’s the black sheep of the Morris family, and their falling out is shrouded in mystery.

G13 is a young hacker who got caught attempting to access classified files, and was sentenced to community service. He’s supposed to be cleaning trash around the strip mall, but he mostly stays inside the video store using the crusty old public computer they have, since he’s no longer allowed to use any at home.

While attempting to bypass the many blocks on that ancient desktop computer, he sees a trailer for an old movie. It depicts Usha Rao, more commonly known by both her allies and enemies as Grandmother. She’s the head of a widespread criminal organization, and despite her sweet seeming appearance is someone to be feared. She’s been alive longer than anyone knows, she’s seen everything and knows everything, so if you mess with her family you cannot escape her wrath.

Working over by the more adult section of the store, is Jack Manhattan. After suffering through a grueling divorce with his wife and losing custody of his two children, his life is essentially at a standstill. He is very vocal about how much he prefers not being tied down, and talks about having many partners, but it’s clear that in reality he is not dealing with the separation well and is very lonely.

Unable to even look at the more unsavory content in front of him without thinking about the love he lost, he switches the channel only to see a movie starring crime investigator Paula Donvalson. While many overlook her based on her wild and sporadic personality, the crazy deductions she makes are more often than not entirely on the money, and the FBI begrudgingly hires her for many of their cases.

Jennifer Drips is a woman who does not stay in one place for far too long. Drifting quickly from town to town, she never sets up roots, but leaves a trail of lovers behind her. She is currently staying in a crappy apartment near Lake Elsinore, and working at the video store for some extra cash before she moves on.

On a screen behind her as she’s packing up the store’s inventory, plays a movie led by Russel Feelds, a mechanic developing gadgets for every organization under the sun. A self described lone wolf, he has no loyalty to any side, as long as you can pay his prices.

Greg Stocks is a wealthy man who owns nearly every storefront in the strip mall, except for the video store. He heads in every day attempting to make an offer that Slater will accept, but even as the store is close to shutting down, the video store owner remains stubborn.

Walking by the front of the store he sees, on one of the display TVs, a film about a man known only as Dang. Dang is the world’s deadliest assassin, and his methods are all just as strange as the man himself. After every kill he leaves behind his calling card, the word “rashab”. No one has deciphered its meaning yet.