#but also New York changed me as a person

[daily-table21]

Video: New Jersey Joins the Table

Status: Public

Link: New Jersey Joins the Table (youtube.com)

Date Posted: May 28th 2021

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[angelicsoka]

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (24) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: hihi ,, sorry this update took so long (>'-'<) hope u like it <3 personally think it could've been freakier but also planning on another extra of pregnant oc n bbydaddy jk fucking LOL so i wouldn't worry abt it... ch is lengthy fyi … also,, bby2’s name reveal 😝

warnings: pregnancy mood swings, hot tub sex (oc is in her 2nd trimester) pregnant oc, jealousy, dirty talk, breast play, some slapping, kissing, and fucking

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

so much happened before the wedding. 

for instance, you two pulled zion out of daycare and enrolled him in preschool. with all your leave time from work, this allowed you to spend more precious moments with him and while still having time for yourself. another thing is that you and jungkook finally pushed through packing up and moving homes. truth be told, you two bought the penthouse a few years ago but paused on the mini renovations due to your busy work schedules and personal circumstances. on top of that, when jungkook came back from new york he talked about leaving the company to start something of his own. 

if that doesn’t feel like a lot… you two got married. 

married. 

in the midst of the aftermath of your wedding and moving process; you and jungkook are expecting another. and wow, does it feel like you two can’t catch your breath. the timing of everything has truly never felt more chaotic yet so right. 

you and jungkook deserve every bit of this new chapter.

this new life. 

so, with everything in motion, you two decided to take a take a moment and slow things down.

to catch your breath, step away, and spend some intentional time together before the next wave of change rolls in. a cabin trip, tucked away from the noise, just the two of them and the growing baby you carry, is the perfect escape.

when the car slows to stop, you take a moment to admire the soft snow that coats the cabin’s rooftop and blankets the surrounding pine trees. jungkook turns off the engine and gazes out the window. as he marvels at the sight, he turns to you and thinks; 

there’s no comparison. 

you catch his gaze and scoff at him. 

“don’t look at me like that,” you warn. “we haven’t even made it inside the cabin. i’m 5 months pregnant, jungkook. i can’t fuck in this audi like—”

“you’re so beautiful,” he leans over and kisses your forehead. “that’s all.”

you tighten your lips and nod. 

he’s been awfully good at making your heart flutter these days… could be the pregnancy hormones. could be the fact that you married the right man. somewhere in between, you can’t even find it in yourself to question it or think any deeper. you’re just thankful. you’re so grateful for him. 

jungkook steps out first.

he inhales deeply and stretches. taking in the stillness of the mountains, the snow beneath him crunches under his boots. he hurries around to open the car door for you. offering his hand, you smile and take it. your gloved finger curls around his as you carefully step out of the car, one hand instinctively resting on your round belly. 

"oh.. wow. honey, this is beautiful,” you murmur in awe. 

jungkook tugs you close and kisses the top of your head. "it's aight. i think you're—"

"oh, my love..." you look down at your belly and pout. "your daddy is so annoying. he's such a yapper. i hope you take after me and know when to shut up."

the first day passes faster than you expect.

after settling into the cozy cabin, you and jungkook decide to explore the small downtown area. it’s a charming place, with snow-dusted streets and twinkling lights in every shop window. you wander hand in hand, stopping to sample street food—warm, savory bites that fill the crisp air with delicious smells. then there’s dessert, sweet enough to leave you both way too full but completely satisfied. by the time you finish, the sun is setting, and you head back to the cabin before 6pm, ready to settle in for a cozy evening.

the two of you curl up on the couch, binge-watching bad romcoms. between the predictable plots and over-the-top drama, you’re both laughing harder than you have in weeks. every ridiculous twist has you snorting, and you spend half the time arguing over the characters’ choices, tossing playful jabs at each other’s taste in movies. you haven’t felt this light, this refreshed in each other's company, in what feels like forever.

it’s a stark contrast to the year before, which was filled with more ups and downs than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. even now, it’s still hard to look back at those difficult times without a weight settling in your chest. but it’s moments like this—when you’re playing a board game with jungkook, battling over a meaningless win—that make your heart soar.

jungkook, of course, refuses to let you win, which might be the funniest thing he’s done in a while. he’s always been competitive, but when it comes to you, he usually doesn’t mind losing, letting you take the victory just to see you smile.

but tonight?

tonight’s different.

you’re both teasing each other mercilessly, throwing out fake strategies and dramatic groans every time someone gains an advantage.

“you’re really gonna make me earn this, huh?” you laugh, shaking your head as he shoots you a smirk.

“you better believe it,” he replies, eyes gleaming with playful determination.

"does the fact that i'm carrying your baby—"

"no, no, no—d-don't pull the milf card," he panics. "don't be a cheater like that."

"what's it to you? if i'm a milf, you're a dilf."

the back-and-forth banter fills the cabin with warmth, the kind of joy that’s rare and precious.

every time he tries to outwit you, you only love him more for it. this is the jungkook you fell in love with—the one who knows how to make even the simplest moments feel special.

as you look at him mid-game, you think to yourself; you win no matter what.

this is the love you fought for, and right here, in this cozy cabin, surrounded by snow and laughter, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

when the next morning comes, you and jungkook wake up slow together.

over the past 5 months, you’ve been so nauseous, your feet have been swelling (you cried the other day because your old snow boots wouldn’t fit), and your body just... feels less like your own every day.

between the sleepless nights and aching back, you’ve been longing for a break, something to help you feel even just a little bit more like yourself again.

he’s constantly touching your belly and making sure you aren’t bending your knees or lifting a finger. you’ve always known him to be an acts-of-service type of guy, but he surely is a different man when you’re pregnant.

he’s so fucking clingy...

but you are too.

jungkook knows how much you’ve been struggling; he sees it in the way you wince when you stand up too fast, or how you press your hand to your lower back after a long day. when he suggested a babymoon—an escape to a peaceful spa retreat—you didn’t hesitate to agree.

he planned everything perfectly, even down to booking a specialist renowned for her prenatal massages. you both have been counting down the days, excited for the chance to unwind together.

before heading to the spa, you and jungkook decide to grab some coffee.

today, the weather is cool with a crispness in the air that feels refreshing after yesterday’s warmth.

jungkook parks the car at a nearby café on the corner of the street and helps you out. the small bell above the door jingles as you walk in. the vibe inside is laid-back and peaceful—wooden tables, soft lighting, and a chalkboard menu that gives it a homely feel, but the low hum of conversation fills the space with a quiet buzz of life.

you both are a little more sensitive this time around, but who could blame you? between the pregnancy hormones and the life changes, things have been tough. but it’s okay. things are better now.

life has never felt more full.

jungkook squeezes your hand before heading up to the counter to order, while you take a seat by the window, a few tables away from the barista station. from your spot, you can watch him as he approaches the counter, where a young woman with bright eyes and an easy smile greets him.

"good morning! what can i get for you today?" she asks, her voice chipper and smooth, a little too warm for your liking.

maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but… truly, there’s something in her voice you dislike.

she leans slightly against the counter, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, her attention fully fixed on jungkook. you tilt your head and sit back in your chair a little more. this is interesting.

jungkook offers his usual friendly smile. "one iced americano, and one matcha oat milk latte, please."

the barista starts punching in the order, her eyes flicking up to meet his. "iced, even in this weather? bold choice. i like that."

jungkook laughs softly, the sound filling the quiet space and making you smile unconsciously as you fiddle with the napkin in front of you. you can hear snippets of their conversation from where you sit. the barista's tone shifts just slightly—casual but laced with subtle flirtation.

"so, aside from iced coffee at 8am, do you ever drink coffee at 4pm?" she asks, her eyes lingering on him a bit longer than necessary. "my shift ends at 4pm. how do you like your coffee then?"

you feel your shoulders tense, a little twist in your stomach forming as you watch. it’s harmless. you know it’s harmless, but something about the way she’s looking at him makes your heart squeeze uncomfortably.

jungkook, ever the oblivious sweetheart, glances toward you. his gaze softens when your eyes meet. without missing a beat, he grins and says, "with my wife."

the barista falters for a moment, caught off guard. her smile tightens, and she forces a laugh, quickly recovering.

"well, aren’t you… committed. that’s nice to see."

you catch the way jungkook's lips twitch, clearly proud of himself for the quick response. he gives you a little wink, and despite the initial rush of warmth from his words, the insecurity starts to creep in again. you glance away, pretending to be interested in the view outside the window, but you can’t shake the way your stomach churns. it’s a familiar wave of self-consciousness washing over you.

it’s stupid, you think to yourself.

but... why does this bother me?

even if he always says the right things... fuck.

your hand then drifts down to rest on your belly, the growing baby inside serving as a constant reminder of the changes you’ve been going through. the swelling, the mood swings, the way your clothes don’t fit the same anymore—it’s all there. it bubbles just under the surface. seeing someone so effortlessly pretty and carefree—someone who hasn’t been carrying another human for months—playfully flirting with your husband only magnifies that feeling.

jungkook pays, grabs the drinks, and walks over to you, placing one in front of you as he takes a seat.

"got your favorite," he says, flashing you that same smile that always melts your heart.

you force a smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

"thanks, honey."

he narrows his eyes slightly, reading you like a book.

"everything okay?"

"yeah, i’m fine," you reply, taking a sip from your cup, hoping it hides the tiny lie. the weight of your feelings lingers, leaving a heaviness in the air that jungkook can sense, even if he doesn’t fully understand.

for now, he lets it slide, though you know him well enough to recognize that he’s not going to leave it alone for long.

the spa day is as luxurious and blissful as you imagined it to be. 

you tried your best not to let your waves of jealousy and insecurity get in the way of experiencing this with jungkook… but it’s a lot easier said than done. 

you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious the entire time. you couldn’t help but notice the longing gazes the staff had as jungkook walked by your side… it made you feel sick to your stomach. 

… like, yes! he’s handsome. 

but he’s also mine? so close your eyes. 

aside from that, you and jungkook had a great time with the massages and truly felt relaxed. it was so nice to spend time with him like this… which is why a part of you immediately feels guilty when he helps you get dressed at the end of the session. 

“honey, you okay?” jungkook says, as he helps zip up your jacket. 

you look at him, trying to blink the thin layer of your teary eyes. ��y-yeah.”

he blinks at you. 

“is your body feeling okay? was the massage too much—w-what’s going on? why are you about to cry?”

“no,” you step closer, your arms slowly sliding around his neck and draw him in. your fingers lace gently at the nape of his neck, brushing against the soft strands of his hair. “it was perfect. thank you so much for bringing me here, honey. i love you.” 

“i love you too.”

instinctively, jungkook leans into you, your forehead almost touching. his gaze softens, and there's a tenderness in the way you hold him. he loves this. it’s like you’re grounding yourself in his presence. even though he knows you’re withholding some truth, he’ll take this for now. 

“you sure?” he attempts once more. 

“mhm,” you nod, making an effort to lighten your tone. “let’s get some dinner, yeah?”

dinner was lovely. 

it was the kind that left your heart and stomach feeling equally full. jungkook had made you laugh so much, telling stories and cracking little jokes that slowly but surely melted away the weird mood from earlier. you’d almost forgotten about the lingering unease as his laughter filled the cozy cabin, a warmth settling between the two of you. 

now, as you both lounged comfortably in the soft glow of the fire, jungkook’s playful grin returned.

“you know,” he said, nudging your knee, “we’ve got that hot tub just waiting for us.” his eyes sparkled mischievously. "let's take advantage of it."

you tighten your lips.

"come on," jungkook grins, tugging gently at your hand. "the hot tub’s waiting for us. you know you want to."

you hesitate, glancing out toward the balcony where steam rises into the cool evening air. the idea of sinking into the hot water sounds tempting, but the lingering weight of your jealousy from earlier makes you feel uneasy. you haven't said anything about it yet, but it sits at the back of your mind. 

jungkook’s eyes search yours, his expression softening as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“you deserve to relax, honey. this whole weekend is for you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "let's enjoy it."

you want to tell him. 

you want to explain the knot in your chest, the little twist of insecurity that made you feel silly. but instead, you just smile—small and tight—because he's right. this trip is supposed to be about unwinding, about feeling good again, and you can’t bring yourself to ruin the mood.

“okay,” you say, your voice quieter than usual. “let’s do it.”

jungkook’s face lights up instantly, a boyish grin spreading across his lips. 

“love you, mama.” he pulls you in for a quick kiss, his excitement infectious as he heads toward the balcony to get the tub ready.

the outdoor hot tub and sauna sit on the edge of the property, steam rising into the chilly air. as you stand at the edge of the hot tub, you strip down your robe. jungkook, who has been sitting in the hot tub mentally preparing himself for you—is more than delighted to watch you lower yourself into the bubbling water. 

jungkook looks up from the water with soft, adoring eyes. his expression is completely relaxed yet focused, entirely captivated by you. the steam rises around him, but it’s the warmth in his gaze that stands out the most. a kind of quiet affection that radiates with every glance. his lips are slightly parted, and though he says nothing, the way his gaze clings to you speaks volumes. he's utterly consumed by you. every detail of your presence pulling him deeper into that gentle obsession. (gentle… yeah right). his tattooed arm rests casually on the edge of the hot tub, but even with his laid-back posture, there's an intensity in the way he watches you. 

truly, you're the only thing in the world that matters to him. 

offering him a small smile, you finally sink into the water and sit. jungkook moves from his spot to in front of you. he opens his arms and you let out a giggle as he wraps himself around you. you can’t help but giggle… you aren’t blind. 

jungkook comes to you—wet, tatted, and toned. 

as his arms envelop you, the warmth of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine. you can’t help but admire the way the water glistens on his skin and how hot and bothered his tattoo sleeve is making you. for a second, jungkook pulls away to smirk at you… when he does so, it ignites a flutter in your stomach. you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes. 

you’re convinced that the glint in them can heal your soul. 

in this intimate space, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in your own little bubble. you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he pulls you closer, a reminder of the love you share, a bond that only grows stronger in moments like this. the steam swirls around you, but it’s the connection between your souls that truly warms your heart, making you more and more aware that this is where you belong—right in the center of his gaze.

"this was a good idea," you breathe. “i needed this."

jungkook kisses the top of your head before he moves and slips in beside you. his arm naturally rests around your shoulders. 

“anything for you, mama,” he whispers, breath visible in the cool air. he tilts his head, sneaking a kiss on your cheek. you smile as he does so, feeling like you could melt. “i’m so happy you’re happy.”

you laugh softly, resting her head on his shoulder. "you make me happy.”

jungkook’s face lights up. 

it’s moments like these where he feels his heart is lifted. there’s nothing better than hearing you say shit like that. it’s so simple but it wholeheartedly gives him the will to live.

jungkook’s hand drifts to your belly. 

“i miss zion.” 

you laugh. “even though he’s your number 1 hater?” 

jungkook scoffs at you. though what you said is true, he refuses to accept it. 

“he’s gonna have to learn to love us equally… or at least, need me a little more,” he sighs. “to be honest… i’m kind of worried about when you go into labour and the entire new shift in our family. don’t get me wrong—i think zion is a great kid. as unbias as i can be, he truly is kind. he’s curious and understanding at the same time. he’s funny and sociable… but i’m concerned that if he isn’t into me right now and he’s been awfully clingy with you… w-well, i’m not sure how we’re gonna navigate through that. our baby is going to need you and i want to protect your peace of mind and recovery… but i also want to be an accessible father to zion and leave enough time and things for myself. i d-don’t know if i’m making any sense but—”

you nod, listening to him. everything he mentioned makes sense to you. you feel the same way and have also worried about how zion will be as a brother. he’s completely capable of it and he has shown excitement regarding your pregnancy—but it’s different when it happens.

“i feel the same way,” you admit, taking your hand and resting it on his cheek. “everything is so new and there’s so much more than just welcoming a new baby… all your feelings are okay and i appreciate you being able and willing to talk about them even when they don’t make sense to you. see, when you do and say things like this—it eases me. we’re not going to get everything right. we’re going to mess up and there will be times where our priorities rearrange and the adjustment sucks… but we’ve been through worse and made it through. this is our life together, honey. we’re going to make it work. we’re going to be okay.” 

jungkook takes your words in. 

they give him a rush of comfort and feels instantly better. there’s no other way of describing the kind of relief you give him.

he believes in you so much. 

you reach over and kiss him. he kisses you back, happily and deeply. when you pull away he lets out a sigh of relief.

“in other news… yoongi and his new girlfriend? don’t they remind you of us?” jungkook begins. “like when we were dating and how dramatic we were about always being together? she lives two cities away and he’s constantly driving back and forth.”

you laugh, recalling all the lovestruck texts yoongi sent you. not too long ago, he asked for anniversary date ideas and it made you feel funny. with his past girlfriends, he never bothered to ask for help or even get his friends involved. he was usually quiet about them… but with this new one, he’s on blast. 

you and jungkook met yoongi’s girlfriend a few months ago. just before the wedding actually. she was really warm and brought a brighter part of yoongi out. you’ve never seen that side of him. he would glow while she smiled. it was decided then and there that she would be invited to your wedding.

“yoongi is falling in love again," you say with a laugh. "maybe a little fast but it’s also really nice to see him passionate about someone… and he’s grown.”

jungkook chuckles, nodding. "yeah, he’s head over heels this time."

you pause, then casually add, “she’s really pretty and kind… so i understand why he’s lovestruck.”

the silence that follows is enough for jungkook to realize there’s more on your mind. you glance over at him before finally asking, “she’s pretty right?”

“i’m married.”

“you’re allowed to think other women are pretty… l-like the barista from this morning. she was pretty, right?” you repeat. 

jungkook’s eyes slightly widen. his body stiffens, not expecting the shift. 

“i think you think she’s pretty.”

you bite your inner cheek. “because she was pretty—”

“no.”

“it’s okay,” you attempt to sound cool. “you can admit it. i won’t be mad—”

“i think my wife is pretty. the prettiest.”

“she was pretty—”

he shrugs, eyes beginning to panic. “honey, i couldn’t tell ya—“

“jungkook,” you groan. “be serious—“

“i am,” jungkook lets out a harsh scoff. “are you?”

you feel a little sick. 

not because of the pregnancy but because you know you’ve provoked him. suddenly, his gaze lowers and the unbothered expression he had on a second ago is long gone. 

“___, my love—my wife… you know you’re carrying my child, right? not only have you carried my first, second, and now third—holy shit. i don’t mean to sound so angry right now, but if what you’re insinuating is that i haven’t fucked you deep enough to feel the love i have for you then—fuck. we have an issue here. i am angry.”

you heart stops the moment he mentions your second pregnancy. “no. that’s not what i—“

“tell me now,” jungkook demands. “have i not kissed every inch of your body enough for you to understand how in love i am with it? with you? have i or have i not, huh? or should i fuck you right now so i can prove shit? fuck, ___. am i not a grown-ass man that falls at the feet of his wife—no. don’t look away. i want you to fucking look at me when i’m talking to you.” 

you tighten your lips and look up at him. for a moment, you look down and away. he caught your look and pulled you back into reality. his reality. 

the atmosphere shifts. 

“are you okay?” he asks for the nth time today. “are we okay?”

jungkook chases for your eyes. you look at him and feel overwhelmed. you can’t help it. before you know it, tears stream down your face. 

“i d-don’t know,” your voice shakes. “i don’t mean to pick a fight. i don’t know why i’m so insecure right now—i just… i didn't mean to be so sulky the entire day. please, jungkook... i love you and appreciate everything you've done for this babymoon... and i know that the barista flirting with you this morning was nothing. i know it was nothing. girls have hit on you way more than that but i think because i’m pregnant and she was so pretty—”

you let out a sob. “i know you love me and there are more important things in our life than to be crying over stupid shit like this… but i can’t help it. w-why do you have to be so handsome?” 

you hit his bare chest and he moves back, pretending like it hurt. pouting, you cross your arms at him.

“a-and you can’t blame me. you always flirt with me and get me all hot and bothered but haven’t actually fucked me in 2 months. 2 months, jungkook! what the fuck! this is literally your fault. i look and act like this because of your fucking cum—”

“oh my god,” he hisses. “honey, do you know how hard it’s been for me to not rip your clothes off? do you have any idea how i feel when i touch you and all you do is glow? as much as this makes me sound like a pathetic loser—i’m scared to. if i fuck you while you’re pregnant, i’m literally going to cumbust. i’m going to fall in love with you even more. i don’t know if i can handle that—can you? god, do you know how much this all means to me? you think it’s just me being inside you again—which, fuck, i miss that too—but to me it’s so much more. i can’t even find the words to say how utterly sick my mind gets when i think about us fucking with you pregnant like this.” 

you stare at him blankly.

“you’re pregnant—your body is changing,” he pauses. “... and i’m so grateful for you. for this divine body. you can be insecure all you want and i will do anything and everything to prove them wrong—but the truth is… i’m selfish right now. ___, i love how needy you are. i love how your boobs overflow in my hands. i love the bump. i love how flush your cheeks are. i love that you can’t bend and i get to do more things for you. i love that you want me more. so fuck. sorry if i don’t give a shit if a young barista hits on me or if yoongi has a girlfriend—i’m captivated by you. i only know you and your beauty. i only want you.”

jungkook has always loved you.

over and over again, he has shown, fought, and waited for you with his love like no other. to be frank, it feels like every day there is a new reason for him to love you. 

when you became pregnant with zion, he didn’t know how to function. he was genuinely mindblown and breathless from how much he loved you. then, as you two went through your second pregnancy and continue to heal together from the circumstances, he thinks; this must be it. 

because there is no way he could love you any more than this. 

… but he does. 

there’s something about seeing you pregnant that makes him fall even harder. seeing you in this light—happier and safe… it strikes him differently. the feeling plunges right into his heart and fills it with more admiration and appreciation for you. 

you see, it’s in the little things. 

how you absentmindedly rub your belly when you talk about the baby, or the way your eyes soften when you feel a kick. he’s in awe of how strong you are, how you’ve adapted to every change with grace, even when it’s tough.

watching you carry his child, seeing the way your love has grown to make room for this new life, has only deepened his devotion. to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful, more radiant—more divine.

the steam swirls around you and jungkook. 

instead of saying more, he leans closer. his eyes lock with yours and you gulp. he brushes a damp strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering against your skin. 

it feels like he’s taking forever to kiss you. 

he looks at you needy and desperate. leaning in, he tilts his head and closes in on you. time stops when his lips met yours. he kisses you with such demand.

opening your mouth ever so slightly, you allow him in. he deepens the kiss, melting away any lingering tension. he pulls you closer, his abs touching your bump. jungkook moans into the kiss and you smile. then, he slides his hands around your waist and his fingers play with the hem of your bikini bottom. you let out a gasp when he pinches your ass. he pulls away from the kiss and laughs, before placing a kiss on your shoulder. 

then, he lifts his face and kisses you again. pulling away once again, you giggle as his fingers tug down your bottoms. 

“need you.”

you scrunch your nose at him.

it’s so strange to you because pregnancy isn’t that glamorous. you aren’t blind and jungkook doesn’t exactly do much to wipe the drool that dribbles down his mouth when he sees you paddle like a penguin… but seriously? the hot tub?

“in the hot tub?”

“in the hot tub?” he mocks you. 

you squirm as he successfully takes your bottoms off. he smirks as he tosses them to the side. jungkook then squats and lifts you to switch positions. as he sits, he settles you on top of him. he bites his bottom lip as he concentrates on taking his shorts off. 

"come on," he whines. "it's sexy."

“im pregnant,” you remind him. “i don’t know if i can—”

“you can,” jungkook assures you. “you will.” 

just like that, you fold.

you trust him. 

when he takes his shorts off, he helps you get more comfortable. as you sink into his cock, you plant both of your hands on his shoulders. you wince as you hump and grind on him. 

he feels so big. 

jungkook playfully pouts. “what’s wrong, mama? you were crying about not having me inside you—now that i am, what? what is it? too big?”

you nod as you come down. 

“should’ve prepped.” 

jungkook’s pout turns into a mischievous smile.

“why? this is for me. i like that you’re so sensitive. don’t you? you feel it, right? you’re so tight, mama. can feel you clenching. your fucking pussy has grip… and look at you. fucking yourself onto me like a good girl cos you love this fat cock so much. you love this.”

you nod, feeling his length in your guts. “yes, daddy. love this cock so much. thank you for my baby.”

he inhales sharply before wrapping his arms around you. jungkook rips off your bikini top and stuffs his face into your breasts. he kisses them, taking his time to lick and suck your nipples. when he pulls away, he brings his hands to them. 

he squeezes them tightly and watches the way your flesh spills in between his fingers. your breasts got so fucking big—he loves them. 

“god bless these breasts,” he hums. “you like that, mama? you like it when i play with your tits like this?” 

slap.

“say thank you to me,” he insists. “with my fucking cum, your tits wouldn’t be this delicious.”

you ride him slower. 

“thank you, daddy.”

slap. 

“again. say it like you mean it.” 

you moan as he smacks them once more. 

“thank you, daddy—oh,” you pant as he twists your nipple. he looks at you, mouth slightly opened and eyes darted at you. “t-thank you for my tits. thank you for cumming inside me and always stuffing me full. you’re so big and i’m so thankful. thank you, thank you, thank you—mmfphh—”

jungkook pulls your hair, tilting you back.

he shoves his face back to your tits before licking his way up to your neck. you feel him throb inside you and suddenly think that the jets and led lights in this hot tub add to the tension. it feels so good. 

pleasure is an understatement.

the way jungkook fits inside you is incredible.

it’s near indescribable actually. you must have saved an entire nation in your past life to deserve dick this good. you ride the high, feeling the tightness in your stomach knot more and more. then, finally, jungkook tells you to get off. 

as you do so, he lets go of your hair and takes you by the waist. he bends you over. you plant your hands on the edge of the hot tub as he hisses, smacks your ass, and shoves himself back inside your pussy. 

he fucks you, making sure to have a handful of your boobs as he does so.

it’s what he deserves.

jungkook bites your shoulders as you moan. cheek to cheek, you both begin to pant. he digs himself deeper and deeper, you swear the curves of his dick have engraved themselves into your pussy. 

“f-fuck yeah, mama—t-that’s it,” jungkook murmurs into your ear. “my dirty fucking slut. so needy and bratty when you’re pregnant. you’re my fucking princess.”

“n-not a princess—”

“you are though,” he breathes our sharply. “my babymama… god, i love you. i love this fucking cunt so much. i’m sorry i haven’t been fucking it. practically fucking self sabatoge… didn’t wanna obsess over you even more—f-fuck. you feel so good. i was a fool. i’m sorry, mama. i’m s-so fucking—nghh—”

jungkook slams himself into you harder and harder. the water splashes and the sounds of the hot tub jets are put into second place. you whimper and moan, matching his pace. he feels like he’ll lose his mind soon. 

you sound so pretty.

you are so pretty.

right then and there, jungkook reaches for your clit. he rubs on it, elevating your pleasure. 

"my pretty mama."

"oh my god—"

jungkook lets out a big exhale. “mhmm. feel good, mama? you like the way i touch you? so fucking pretty. the prettiest. f-fuck, ___... daddy’s got you.” 

he lets you enjoy for a few more seconds before bringing his wet hands to cup your cheeks. he tilts your face up and squishes your lips together. he kisses you before moving back to your neck. there, he nibbles on your skin to leave marks. 

“i love you,” he pants. “i love you, mama.”

“i love you too, daddy.”

what bliss. 

jungkook cums first and feeling the way his cum shoots inside you finishes you off. you cum seconds after and reach for kisses. jungkook lowers his face and kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;

“10 minute break. can we have sex inside for round 2?”

the babymoon turned out to be everything you needed and more after you and jungkook talked (fucked) through your feelings. truth is, all you can really recall is cumming so much you were afraid your water was going to break. for the past 2 months where you two didn’t fuck—he’s made up for it.

once the air was cleared, any lingering tension melted away, and the rest of the trip was filled with small, intimate moments that made you both fall deeper into this new chapter of your lives. there was that one morning when jungkook woke up early, made breakfast, and brought it to bed with the most endearing, sheepish grin. 

“thought we could start the day off cozy,” he said, climbing back into bed beside you. his warmth immediately soothing. you spent that morning feeding each other bites of fruit between soft kisses, the world outside feeling distant and irrelevant.

every night, you two facetimed zion. watching his bright little face light up the screen as he excitedly told you about his adventures with his grandparents. 

“look, daddy, i made a painting for mommy!” he shouted, showing off a messy splash of colors that had you both smiling. 

of course it was a painting for mommy. 

jungkook asked for his and zion said; “i don’t know. maybe baby will make you one.”

during those quiet nights—heads close together, watching zion through the phone or lying side by side, soaking in the peacefulness—you realized just how "married" you felt. this trip wasn’t just a getaway; it was a reminder of the life you were building together, the love that had deepened through every challenge.

as the sun began to set on the last day of your babymoon, the golden light streaming through the windows bathed the cabin in a warm glow. you and jungkook had spent the afternoon doing nothing in particular—just enjoying each other’s company. lounging in comfortable silence, sharing lazy conversations, and occasionally stealing soft kisses.

“hard to believe it’s almost over,” jungkook murmurs, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back as you rested against him. you hummed in agreement, feeling completely at ease as if all the worries and stresses from before had melted away during your stay.

“i could stay here forever,” you replied with a soft smile, half-joking but meaning it more than you’d care to admit. “but i miss zion and the mom guilt is hitting so hard right now.”

jungkook chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“do you think he misses me?”

you laugh and then cover your mouth. “did you get funnier or something?”

“haha,” jungkook rolls his eyes. “i really fucking hope this baby likes me more.”

you laugh again, sinking further into him. you rest your hand over your belly. your eyes widen when you feel a kick, you grab jungkook’s hand and place it on top of the spot. 

“i think baby will.” you say softly. "hey, we can talk about baby names on our way home! i’m excited.” 

and just like that, the babymoon comes to a quiet, contented end. nothing dramatic or grand—just the two of you, basking in the love and peace that had surrounded you for the past 10 days. 

as jungkook drives, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the car windows. jungkook hums to a the music playing. the gentle melody soon turns into him singing softly, his voice filling the car with a soothing warmth.

your hand rested on your belly, and almost as if on cue, you felt a tiny kick. the baby reacts to his singing, little movements following the rhythm. you laugh quietly, placing your other hand over his. "someone’s already a fan of your voice," you said, glancing at him.

he grins, continuing to sing as he squeezes your hand. "oh? i guess i’m the favourite. in your face, mama," he jokes. “finally…” but there’s a hint of emotion in his eyes. as though the simple act of singing to your baby makes everything feel even more real.

you laugh and gaze out the window. 

"yeah. baby likes your voice," you reply, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“you okay?” jungkook asks. “what’s with that look? what’s on your mind, honey?”

"i was just thinking... about names."

jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh? got any ideas?"

you hesitate for a moment, then the name just slips out. 

"zia,” you reveal. “what do you think of zia? i saw it a few times online and in the baby name book… i called her zia once last week and she kicked. the name itself connects to light, family, and brilliance… radiance."

he repeated it under his breath, testing it out. 

"baby zia… i like it." jungkook smiles warmly, taking your hand and kissing it.

you smile back, feeling a sudden surge of love for both jungkook and the tiny life you were bringing into the world.

the name feels right, like it had been waiting for you all along. you can’t wait to get home and share the news with everyone. you can’t wait to go home together, hug and kiss zion, and fall asleep next to your husband.

everything has fallen into place and life is truly so beautiful.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

You should be using an RSS reader

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

No matter how hard we all wish it were otherwise, the sad fact is that there aren't really individual solutions to systemic problems. For example: your personal diligence in recycling will have no meaningful impact on the climate emergency.

I get it. People write to me all the time, they say, "What can I change about my life to fight enshittification, or, at the very least, to reduce the amount of enshittification that I, personally, experience?"

It's frustrating, but my general answer is, "Join a movement. Get involved with a union, with EFF, with the FSF. Tell your Congressional candidate to defend Lina Khan from billionaire Dem donors who want her fired. Do something systemic."

There's very little you can do as a consumer. You're not going to shop your way out of monopoly capitalism. Now that Amazon has destroyed most of the brick-and-mortar and digital stores out of business, boycotting Amazon often just means doing without. The collective action problem of leaving Twitter or Facebook is so insurmountable that you end up stuck there, with a bunch of people you love and rely on, who all love each other, all hate the platform, but can't agree on a day and time to leave or a destination to leave for and so end up stuck there.

I've been experiencing some challenging stuff in my personal life lately and yesterday, I just found myself unable to deal with my usual podcast fare so I tuned into the videos from the very last XOXO, in search of uplifting fare:

https://www.youtube.com/@xoxofest

I found it. Talks by Dan Olson, Cabel Sasser, Ed Yong and many others, especially Molly White:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTaeVVAvk-c

Molly's talk was so, so good, but when I got to her call to action, I found myself pulling a bit of a face:

But the platforms do not exist without the people, and there are a lot more of us than there are of them. The platforms have installed themselves in a position of power, but they are also vulnerable…

Are the platforms really that vulnerable? The collective action problem is so hard, the switching costs are so high – maybe the fact that "there's a lot more of us than there are of them" is a bug, not a feature. The more of us there are, the thornier our collective action problem and the higher the switching costs, after all.

And then I had a realization: the conduit through which I experience Molly's excellent work is totally enshittification-proof, and the more I use it, the easier it is for everyone to be less enshittified.

This conduit is anti-lock-in, it works for nearly the whole internet. It is surveillance-resistant, far more accessible than the web or any mobile app interface. It is my secret super-power.

It's RSS.

RSS (one of those ancient internet acronyms with multiple definitions, including, but not limited to, "Really Simple Syndication") is an invisible, automatic way for internet-connected systems to public "feeds." For example, rather than reloading the Wired homepage every day and trying to figure out which stories are new (their layout makes this very hard to do!), you can just sign up for Wired's RSS feed, and use an RSS reader to monitor the site and preview new stories the moment they're published. Wired pushes about 600 words from each article into that feed, stripped of the usual stuff that makes Wired nearly impossible to read: no 20-second delay subscription pop-up, text in a font and size of your choosing. You can follow Wired's feed without any cookies, and Wired gets no information about which of its stories you read. Wired doesn't even get to know that you're monitoring its feed.

I don't mean to pick on Wired here. This goes for every news source I follow – from CNN to the New York Times. But RSS isn't just good for the news! It's good for everything. Your friends' blogs? Every blogging platform emits an RSS feed by default. You can follow every one of them in your reader.

Not just blogs. Do you follow a bunch of substackers or other newsletters? They've all got RSS feeds. You can read those newsletters without ever registering in the analytics of the platforms that host them. The text shows up in black and white (not the sadistic, 8-point, 80% grey-on-white type these things all default to). It is always delivered, without any risk of your email provider misclassifying an update as spam:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/

Did you know that, by default, your email sends information to mailing list platforms about your reading activity? The platform gets to know if you opened the message, and often how far along you've read in it. On top of that, they get all the private information your browser or app leaks about you, including your location. This is unbelievably gross, and you get to bypass all of it, just by reading in RSS.

Are your friends too pithy for a newsletter, preferring to quip on social media? Unfortunately, it's pretty hard to get an RSS feed from Insta/FB/Twitter, but all those new ones that have popped up? They all have feeds. You can follow any Mastodon account (which means you can follow any Threads account) via RSS. Same for Bluesky. That also goes for older platforms, like Tumblr and Medium. There's RSS for Hacker News, and there's a sub-feed for the comments on every story. You can get RSS feeds for the Fedex, UPS and USPS parcels you're awaiting, too.

Your local politician's website probably has an RSS feed. Ditto your state and national reps. There's an RSS feed for each federal agency (the FCC has a great blog!).

Your RSS reader lets you put all these feeds into folders if you want. You can even create automatic folders, based on keywords, or even things like "infrequently updated sites" (I follow a bunch of people via RSS who only update a couple times per year – cough, Danny O'Brien, cough – and never miss a post).

Your RSS reader doesn't (necessarily) have an algorithm. By default, you'll get everything as it appears, in reverse-chronological order.

Does that remind you of anything? Right: this is how social media used to work, before it was enshittified. You can single-handedly disenshittify your experience of virtually the entire web, just by switching to RSS, traveling back in time to the days when Facebook and Twitter were more interested in showing you the things you asked to see, rather than the ads and boosted content someone else would pay to cram into your eyeballs.

Now, you sign up to so many feeds that you're feeling overwhelmed and you want an algorithm to prioritize posts – or recommend content. Lots of RSS readers have some kind of algorithm and recommendation system (I use News, which offers both, though I don't use them – I like the glorious higgeldy-piggeldy of the undifferentiated firehose feed).

But you control the algorithm, you control the recommendations. And if a new RSS reader pops up with an algorithm you're dying to try, you can export all the feeds you follow with a single click, which will generate an OPML file. Then, with one click, you can import that OPML file into any other RSS reader in existence and all your feeds will be seamlessly migrated there. You can delete your old account, or you can even use different readers for different purposes.

You can access RSS in a browser or in an app on your phone (most RSS readers have an app), and they'll sync up, so a story you mark to read later on your phone will be waiting for you the next time you load up your reader in a browser tab, and you won't see the same stories twice (unless you want to, in which case you can mark them as unread).

RSS basically works like social media should work. Using RSS is a chance to visit a utopian future in which the platforms have no power, and all power is vested in publishers, who get to decide what to publish, and in readers, who have total control over what they read and how, without leaking any personal information through the simple act of reading.

And here's the best part: every time you use RSS, you bring that world closer into being! The collective action problem that the publishers and friends and politicians and businesses you care about is caused by the fact that everyone they want to reach is on a platform, so if they leave the platform, they'll lose that community. But the more people who use RSS to follow them, the less they'll depend on the platform.

Unlike those largely useless, performative boycotts of widely used platforms, switching to RSS doesn't require that you give anything up. Not only does switching to RSS let you continue to follow all the newsletters, webpages and social media accounts you're following now, it makes doing so better: more private, more accessible, and less enshittified.

Switching to RSS lets you experience just the good parts of the enshitternet, but that experience is delivered in manner that the new, good internet we're all dying for.

My own newsletter is delivered in fulltext via RSS. If you're reading this as a Mastodon or Twitter thread, on Tumblr or on Medium, or via email, you can get it by RSS instead:

https://pluralistic.net/feed/

Don't worry about which RSS reader you start with. It literally doesn't matter. Remember, you can switch readers with two clicks and take all the feeds you've subscribed to with you! If you want a recommendation, I have nothing but praise for Newsblur, which I've been paying $2/month for since 2011 (!):

https://newsblur.com/

Subscribing to feeds is super-easy, too: the links for RSS feeds are invisibly embedded in web-pages. Just paste the URL of a web-page into your RSS reader's "add feed" box and it'll automagically figure out where the feed lives and add it to your subscriptions.

It's still true that the new, good internet will require a movement to overcome the collective action problems and the legal barriers to disenshittifying things. Almost nothing you do as an individual is going to make a difference.

But using RSS will! Using RSS to follow the stuff that matters to you will have an immediate, profoundly beneficial impact on your own digital life – and it will appreciably, irreversibly nudge the whole internet towards a better state.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise

[nanivinsmoke]

��� Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader 

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself)  18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you. 

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places. 

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it. 

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else. 

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t. 

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit. 

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all. 

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that. 

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold. 

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.” 

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both. 

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it! 

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to. 

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.” 

———-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name. 

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you! 

Unknown: You are a lifesaver. 

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that. 

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters. 

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe. 

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6. 

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world. 

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away. 

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back? 

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up. 

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then! 

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things. 

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow. 

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him. 

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late. 

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up. 

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated. 

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry! 

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done. 

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight. 

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be. 

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face. 

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet. 

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him. 

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.” 

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark. 

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.” 

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth. 

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you. 

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time. 

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.” 

“Right. And your phone stopped working?” 

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest. 

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.” 

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.” 

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you. 

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest. 

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?” 

“I don’t strike out.” 

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now. 

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.” 

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.” 

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep. 

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler. 

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him. 

————-

Steve felt like shit. 

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty. 

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him. 

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess. 

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick. 

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes. 

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent. 

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie. 

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with. 

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips. 

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him. 

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them. 

“5 minutes, Harrington.” 

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too. 

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him. 

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.” 

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name. 

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.” 

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly. 

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was. 

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it. 

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him. 

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves. 

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace. 

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was. 

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare. 

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time. 

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.” 

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing. 

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his. 

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it. 

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers. 

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin. 

“Hit me again, baby.” 

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences. 

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?” 

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that. 

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.” 

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right. 

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them. 

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now. 

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him. 

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.” 

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win. 

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting. 

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.” 

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess. 

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn. 

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure. 

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky. 

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times. 

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it. 

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect. 

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are. 

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.” 

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?” 

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up. 

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge. 

He likes it a little too much. 

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you. 

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too. 

It’s go time. 

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth. 

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.” 

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth. 

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts. 

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body. 

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.” 

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling. 

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created. 

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else. 

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver. 

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together. 

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you. 

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him. 

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food. 

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin. 

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately. 

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him. 

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts. 

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there. 

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.” 

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you. 

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look. 

And you immediately regret it. 

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you. 

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session. 

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry. 

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you. 

Maybe that was your mistake. 

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something. 

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it. 

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him. 

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room. 

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over. 

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks. 

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways. 

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip. 

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” 

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment. 

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay.” 

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.” 

“Okay.” 

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor. 

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.” 

“Okay, Steve.” 

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. 

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.” 

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up. 

“Then stay.” 

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you. 

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip. 

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.” 

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful. 

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran. 

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch. 

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue. 

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand. 

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought. 

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking. 

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.” 

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next. 

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features. 

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained. 

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight. 

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds. 

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already. 

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt. 

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger. 

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.” 

“I am not participating in that.” 

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?” 

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.” 

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now. 

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else. 

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him. 

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic. 

“Hello, Boston!” 

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see. 

“You all look beautiful tonight!” 

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him. 

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar. 

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground. 

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat. 

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him. 

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest. 

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again. 

Maybe you could use another drink after all. 

 —————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down. 

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant. 

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around. 

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight. 

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably. 

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him. 

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you. 

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you. 

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes. 

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours. 

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement. 

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on. 

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively. 

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.” 

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks. 

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude. 

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care. 

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that. 

“I’m your girl.” 

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters. 

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now. 

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you. 

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him. 

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.” 

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized. 

“You looked good up there, like a natural.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm, my rockstar.” 

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him. 

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side. 

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.” 

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening. 

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest. 

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead. 

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm. 

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever. 

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely. 

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat. 

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing. 

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. 

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.” 

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out. 

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again. 

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.” 

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him. 

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.” 

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot. 

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does. 

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now. 

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together. 

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes. 

“Cooling down over there?” 

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.” 

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.” 

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck. 

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.” 

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful. 

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?” 

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.” 

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now. 

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.” 

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book. 

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.” 

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked. 

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.” 

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.” 

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick. 

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away. 

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later. 

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train! 

Y/n: Idiot! 

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed. 

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that. 

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick! 

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here. 

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl. 

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside. 

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back. 

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off. 

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be! 

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time. 

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up. 

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that. 

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him. 

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot! 

Steve: You wanna watch? ;) 

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement. 

Y/n: In your dreams. 

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees. 

Steve: Oh you know it, baby. 

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you. 

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better. 

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face. 

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it. 

Y/n: Meh. 

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send. 

Steve: Meh???? 

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar. 

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction. 

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed. 

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot. 

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before. 

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t. 

“H-hello?” 

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap. 

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something. 

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.” 

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you. 

“Steve, I—”

“Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.” 

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” 

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things. 

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling. 

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?” 

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin. 

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane. 

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am. 

Who besides Steve, of course. 

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck. 

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by. 

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am. 

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him. 

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago. 

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you. 

“What do you think?” 

“Missed me already, Harrington?” 

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body. 

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.” 

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.” 

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him. 

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you. 

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.” 

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.” 

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees. 

“Come give daddy a kiss then.” 

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours. 

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him. 

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too. 

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because. 

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease. 

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support. 

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him. 

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him. 

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.” 

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight. 

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you. 

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry. 

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint. 

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?” 

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.” 

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there. 

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content. 

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.” 

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest. 

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.” 

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit. 

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds. 

And then it stops. 

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes. 

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again. 

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach. 

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you. 

And then it stops again. 

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness. 

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin. 

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time. 

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort. 

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise. 

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious. 

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him. 

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.” 

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes. 

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit. 

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same. 

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning. 

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears. 

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin. 

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?” 

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.” 

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him. 

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you. 

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?” 

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you. 

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest. 

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too. 

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him. 

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.” 

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs. 

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?” 

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.” 

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing. 

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow. 

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles. 

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.” 

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit. 

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind. 

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon. 

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends. 

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant. 

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself. 

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you. 

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you. 

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring. 

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that. 

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?” 

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming. 

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him. 

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.” 

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time. 

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out. 

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you. 

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?” 

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare. 

“Oh you have no idea.”  ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌

[sterredem]

Taste

Sabrina carpenter x fem!driver!reader (f1 academy driver)

Face claim random Pinterest girls

Summary Y/n is obsessed with Sabrina, and she manifests the girl.

Warning not proofread, spelling mistakes, English is NOT my first language

A/N a bit long but this is probably my favourite ever.

Also thank you so much for 400 followers!!!

2022

Instagram

Liked by Laufey and 735.276 others

Yourusername New York photo dump while waiting for the next formula 2 raceeeee (something special coming up!!) (I love sabrina (I’m an og))

View all 3.524 comments

Laufey Good luck with the next race! We need to meet up soon!

Yourusername Oh yeah! For sure! Msg me!❤️

User1 Good luck in the next race! (I also love her! (You made me a fan!!))

User2 I love her and laufey’ friendship!!

User3 she is so aesthetic!!

User4 something special?? I’m exited!!

|———————————<3—————————————|

2023

Instagram

Liked by Bsfuser and 614.735 others

Yourusername I JUST SAW SABRINA CARPENTRR!!! It was amazing!! Definitely recommend the ‘emails I can’t send’ Tour!! Now on to the Formula 1 season!! (Yes there is red for Ferrari)

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Bsfuser I was there too!! (There wasn’t enough room in the dump cause she wanted more Sabrina…😔)

Yourusername it’s nothing personal, I just love her more…

User5 congratulations on getting into F1!!

User6 So happy that you got to see Sabrina!!

User7 Gorgeous girlssss

User8 My little secrets!!

User9 always red

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Instagram

Liked by NotLivieR and 124 others

Y/npriv travel photo dumpppppp, here we come Miami!!

View all 17 comments

NotLivieR I feel honours to get to see you race and travel with you my queen 👑

Y/npriv wow I feel honours from hearing that from Olivia friking Rodrigo. Thanks for the featur on the new albummmmm

Bsfuser We’re hot

Y/npriv yes we are

Friend1 Thanks for taking me with youuu!!

Y/npriv no problem my child😙

Friend2 momma, My friend is famous

Y/npriv stawp it

Sisteruser And why wasn’t I invited!?

Y/npriv you know why

Friend3 Good luck! And it was an amazing trip!!

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Instagram

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux and 726.973 others

Yourusername Miami race wknd dumppp

View all 9.836 comments

Alexandrasaintmleux beauty

User10 No Sabrina for once?? This is revolutionary!!

User11 Wait is that Olivia Rodrigo???

User12 Yes! They are really good friends! She also features on one of her songs!

User13 I am so jealous of her and her friendships

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Instagram

Liked by Friend1 and 116 others

Y/npriv I JUST MET SABRINA CARPENTER!!!!!!

View all 13 comments

Bsfuser AAAAAHHHH

Friend1 ONGOMGOMG

Friend2 A HUG!?!? I JUST KNOW YOU ARE FREAKING OUT!!

Friend3 How do you have so many shoes?

Y/nPriv I am a women with priority’s

Sisteruser OMG!!!

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Instagram

Liked by SabrianCarpenter and 825.826 others

Yourusername Last race of the season… thank you all so much for this amazing season, I am very happy that I get to come back next year, and congratulations to max on the championship!! Now on to a break with lots of training and some other things…!

View all 11.726 comments

User1 Other things???

User2 So happy we get to see you again next season!!

User3 I feel like there isn’t going to be a post where Sabrina isn’t in…

User4 Have a nice break!!

User5 What a great season!

User6 I’m curious to see if anything changes grid wise next year!

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Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 924.725 others

Yourusername Thank you so much to Olivia for taking me with you to the Hitmakers Viraity event! It was amazing! My best friend won an award, I got to meet amazing people, and I got to meet Sabrina!!!!!!

View all 11.172 comments

SabrinaCarpenter It was really nice meeting you too!

OliviaRodrigo Thanks for being my plus one!

ConanGray you should come to these things more often you, make them more exiting

User7 She must be freaking about about the Sabrina interaction!

User8 We love a supportive bsf!

User9 wait aren’t like Olivia and Sabrina fighting or smth?

User10 No! They both dated the same boy and wrote the songs but then they dueted and now they are friends!

Autheur yes I am delusional

User11 I love that she went with Olivia!!

User12 She looks so hot…

User13 I’m in love

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SabrinaCarpenter started following you

SabPriv send you a following request

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Instagram

Liked by SabPriv and 126 others

Y/nPriv sooo, that happened…

View all 16 comments

SabPriv I feel honoured

Y/nPriv shut up

Bsfuser WHAT DID I MISS??

Y/nPriv A LOT!!

Friend1 OH????

Friend2 So you went on a date with SABRINA CARPENTER?? HOW ATE YOU OKAY?????

Friend3 SO HAPPY GIRL YOU!!

Friend4 Girls night asap!!

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Instagram

Liked by NotLivieR and 132 others

Y/nPriv Vacay dumppp, also I turned her into a Ferrari girl. What a beauty

View all 19 comments

NotLivieR What a cuties

Bsfuser I’m beginning to think she is stealing you away from me

SabPriv I am

Friend1 Hotties

Friend2 sooo when do I get to meet her?

Friend3 I now understand your obsession with her

Friend4 soooooo, any songs about you… (IM SO HAPPY FOR YALL!!)

Sisteruser pls tell her I love her

SabPriv I love you toooooo

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 1.073.272 others

Yourusername vacation dump, had some training, had an AMAZING vacation and had god company😉

View all 121.243 comments

OliviaRodrigo Have an AMAZING vacation!!

User1 SOFT LAUNCH??

User2 MORE INPORTENT WLW SOFT LAUNCH!!!

User3 HOTHOTHOTHOTHOTHO

User4 Once again no Sabrina… I think she has been kidnapped…

User5 I aspire to be her when I grow up

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Instagram

Liked by Laufey and 989.937 others

Yourusername First race of the season! Wow what does it feel good to be back! Also P1 on the first race! Already an amazing start!!

View all 81.827 comments

Charles_Leclerc Congratulations on P1!

Laufey SO PROUD!!!

User6 Amazing!

User7 Always knew women are suppose to be in f1!!

User8 Again with the soft launch???

User9 🎵🎶no sabrinaaa🎶🎵

User10 The fold up chair is so iconic

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Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 1.121.132 others

Yourusername What great yo see you again Miami!! So happy to be back here!

View all 62.264 comments

User11 The blue is beautiful!!

User12 Who’s the blonde girl??

User13 What a race!

User1 The bows are so cute!!

User2 the race suits and merch are all so good and then you have the car……

User3 what if the girl is Sabrina…?

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Instagram

Liked by vogue and 1.826.826 others

Yourusername My lovely, beautiful, talented, extraordinary, amazing girlfriend everyone!!

Comments are limited

SabrianCarpenter I LOVE YOUUU!!!

Taylorswift couple goals

OliviaRodrigo So happy for you guys!!

Laufey Cuties!

Alexandrasaintmleux Double date when??

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Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 1.243.524 others

Yourusername Everyone go stream Short ‘n Sweet!! quick!!!

View all 62.524 comments

Author Also just pretend that all the ‘he’s’ in the songs are ‘she’s’

SabrinaCarpenter and while you do that go watch this beauty racing fast cars!!

User4 They are the defenition of Barbie and Ken (if Ken is a girl)

User5 The fact that juno and bed chem are about her……..

User6 Does she taste you?? (I’m so sorry)

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Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 1.627.244 others

Yourusername My lovely Sabrina is touring!! Go get your tickets before they are all gone!! That way you can watch this beauty perform her amazing songs!!

View all 62.254 comments

User7 the fact that she gets in to the millions likes when Sabrina is in the post is so funny😂

User8 WOWOWOWOWOWOOWOW

User9 I now understand you Y/n, I also would be obsessed with her for years and then manifesting her

User0 so jealous that you get to see her for free

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 1.143.635 others

Yourusername An appreciation post for sabrinaaaa

View all 73.165 comments

User10 hottest couple ever

User11 They are the cutest!

User12 Sabrina carpenter, the women you are…

User13 Y/n Y/l/n, the women you are…

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At the last part I got kind of lazy so I made it shorter hope y’all don’t mind!

[bigassmoonchild]

Lost

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.

Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N

A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)

(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)

(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)

(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)

It’s jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. It’s almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though you’re falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body can’t tell if you’re still alive.  

You’ve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, you’re thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body.  

“Fuuuuck,” it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth you’ve landed on, it doesn’t seem like it’s good.  

There’s blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned.  

You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash.  

Behind you, there’s panting. It’s heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”  

... 

You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasn’t working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range.  

The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting.  

You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself.  

“Who shit in your biscuit this morning?” Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you don’t roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had.  

Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasn’t looked away. “Whoever the hell sent me here, that’s who,” you respond. There’s pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. “Didn’t know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,” you nod your head towards Logan like you’re gesturing to him.  

It’s quiet. You’ve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply.  

“He isn’t,” and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you don’t know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didn’t deserve to be able to do that.  Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Logan’s still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. “The TVA,” he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt. 

“Why did they bring him here?” You shake your head, brows furrowing further.  

Wade shifts his head side to side. “They didn’t bring him here, sunshine,” his voice perks up. “I did,” and he has the widest smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“I don’t,” you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. “I don’t even wanna know why or how,”  

“’Cause I'm Marvel Jesus,” is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. “Alrighty, Peanut, let’s get going home,” he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, you’ve got no idea), and there’s a little pep in his step. “C’mon puppy!” Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. “I’m going to go figure things out on my own,” he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isn’t able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again. 

“Oh no you don’t! I’ve waited far too long for this meetup!” Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like he’s struggling with a decision he’s about to make. “Blind Al isn’t all she’s cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,” he snickers a little. 

You’re really hoping it doesn’t last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). It’s homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. You’ve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them weren’t blind. 

It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who weren’t blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them.  

This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldn’t fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but there’s been worse you’ve interacted with.  

Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight.  

Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVD’s when you finally speak up. 

“Might wanna take a picture,” it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. “It’ll last you longer,” but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines.  

They always made their problems with you obvious. They’d never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldn’t figure out how to go about confronting it.  

“Who’re you?” Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant.  

You swallow thickly. “I’m not the person you think I am,” and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if there’s another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. “Whoever I am, or was, to you? That’s not who I am,” but you’d never met another one of you.  

There’s the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and there’s no way that it isn’t a beer bottle.  “I’ve never met you in my life. Have you?” Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him.  

He’s shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. “What the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?” You bark a laugh.  

“I’m just one of God’s fucked up mistakes, that’s what,” and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. “I really don’t know. My world didn’t have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,” Wade looks appalled.  

His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. “It’s like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,” you have to shake your head.  

Logan clears his throat. “What do you mean, your world didn’t have mutants,” you smile at him.  

“My timeline doesn’t exist anymore,”  

[beomcoups]

Food Wars pt. 1

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, suggestive (next part will be spicier, I promise), coworkers to lovers au, 18+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, mention of death (nothing graphic), suggestive grabs of the hips and ass 💀

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

𝐀𝐍: Part 1 is heeeeeeere! This is apart of the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 2 will be posted soon. There are alot of people here who helped me cultivate this fic and assure me that what I wrote didn't suck lol. Thank you @wooahaeproductions, @seokgyuu, @hobeemin and @hannieween for looking at bits of this for me. Also thank you to @highvern , @cheolism , @okiedokrie @bitchlessdino @gyupremacy for shooting ideas with me (ahem, cologne!) and finally @milfgyuu , I know you want to be tagged in anything related to your man :)

You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are annoyed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, told you. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make them the executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.

It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap to the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you. 

You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at as a chef, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you could plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom.  Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looks like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.

You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie - how you went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find and cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her. 

You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.

“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”

Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. Rich can be a dramatic pain in the ass sometimes.

“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion. 

You need a fucking drink. 

Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog. 

“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.” 

For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”

Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.

“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning them off to be ready for the customers who are set to come in later. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug. 

“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke. 

You nod, grab a granola nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit. 

“So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”

Your morning sucked. You barely slept, and when you finally did, you woke up to three missed alarms and was running an hour late. You had less than a week to plan to leave the country and spent most of your night packing for ten days and making sure your cat, Grey, would be comfortable while you were gone. He is a rescue; you adopted him from the animal shelter when you volunteered with Shena a year ago. He was your cuddle buddy; you haven’t been without him for more than a day. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” you give him a good scratch. He purrs lazily, curling himself into a ball and going back to sleep. You are grateful that Shena’s girlfriend, Lumina, offered to come over and feed him while you were gone. You were considering dropping him off at one of those pet daycares for the week or hiring a cat sitter, but she came through in the nick of time. She works at the animal shelter you adopted her, and coincidentally, that’s where she and Shena met and fell in love. 

It was nice seeing them fall for each other. It was like watching a silly, quirky rom-com play out in front of you. You see the magic in Shena’s eyes when she looks at Lumina, the warmth in her voice when she talks about her. Shena described Lumina as a warm hug on a rainy day, and you could believe that. They are made for each other. 

You hear a notification on your phone telling you your Uber is outside. You send a quick text to Lumina, giving her the code to your door, and give one last look around before you go across the ocean. “Bye, Grey,” you whisper, ensuring the door is locked before leaving.

Silvery-white clouds rolled into the early morning sky as you walked to your Uber, the ground wet from the fresh rain a few hours before. The smell of rain has always soothed you; the clean, earthy petrichor wakes you up a bit more. You quickly greet the driver, putting on your AirPods and playing a playlist you made. You watch the remaining droplets of rain left on the window roll away as your driver cruises down the highway. Where you come from, it hardly rains as it's primarily hot year round. On the rare occasions when it did, you would open your bedroom window, sit in your bed, and watch the water hit the Oleander flowers in your backyard. It was one of your two favorite smells in the world, the other being apple pie. 

Mixed in with your annoyance about having to have a competition to prove yourself as a chef, you are looking forward to leaving the country. You have never been to Spain before, let alone Europe. You have traveled and seen a few things, but Mexico is the farthest you have gone. You spent much time last night looking up main attractions, museums, and local areas to see if you have the time. You want to visit the local markets and taste the local food. Rich set up all of your travel and living arrangements, and all you have to do is show up and cook. You are going to make the most of your time there. Who knows when you will be able to travel again? At the very least, you plan on coming out of this thing, winning it all.

“We’re here.” 

When you look up, the airport entrance pulls up to your right. The ride feels shorter than it is, but you are lost in thought about many things. You thank your driver, grab your suitcases, and walk to the airline’s front desk to turn your bags in. You arrived with thirty minutes left to spare, and there was a long line already; it wasn’t even 8 am. You can’t help but yawn as you hand over your bags to the agents, fatigue and the lack of sleep kicking your ass. 

“You’re all set,” the agent hands over your printed ticket. “Have a safe trip.” You nod, heading towards security and breezing through the checkpoints before arriving in front of the underground train. Your purse feels heavy on your shoulder, and your eyelids threaten to close as you stand. You usually have good sleep management, but you stressed over this trip all night. What if you come all the way out to Spain for nothing? You don’t think you could continue to work for Rich anymore. It would hurt too much. 

The train comes shortly after, and you shuffle inside, trying to find a seat in the back before it is taken. You see one and settle down, your shoulders dropping as you finally sit down. You lean your head on the cold pole, hopeful that closing your eyes for a minute will give you some of your energy back.

“Are you as tired as I am?” You recognize that voice, annoyance slowly creeping in as your longing for a bit of solitude is interrupted. 

“Mingyu, what a surprise,” you mutter without cracking an eye open. 

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your voice. It’s one of a kind,” you deadpan.

He chuckles as the train flicks forward, sitting next to you. You begrudgingly pull out your ticket, realizing you will not get to relax until you’re sitting on that plane. Noting the concourse you need to get off on, you look ahead, counting the stops you have until you have to get off. Mingyu hums softly, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his headphones.  

“Have you ever flown first class before?”

Your head snaps his way, not registering what he’s saying. “What?” “First class? Have you ever been?” “I-uh, no,” you stumble through your words. “Why does it matter?”

“Uh, did you even look at where you’re sitting?”

“Well, yes?” you say incredulously, looking at your ticket again. “Of course, I know where I’m sitting���”

You don’t finish that sentence; instead, your mouth forms a small “o,” unaware that you would be sitting in first class. You have never flown in those seats before, the closest being business class a couple of rows behind the curtain. Those tickets were not cheap, and you only purchased them because you wanted to treat yourself to graduating culinary school, which you were able to do by saving all of your tips from your waitressing job. 

You don’t like admitting that you were wrong, and you aren’t going to admit it now. Instead, you rake your fingers in your hair, nodding and shoving your ticket in your back pocket. 

“You’re welcome,” Mingyu taunts you, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head. 

You can barely suppress your smile, saved by the announcement that your concourse is approaching. You both rise out of your seats, moving towards the doors before the train jerks suddenly, making you fall forward into Mingyu. He grabs your hips, holding you steady until you’ve caught your balance. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, and your body is hypersensitive to his inadvertent touch. His grip is firm and protective, bringing an unexpected tingle to your core. You couldn’t feel more thankful that you were looking down; you couldn’t look him in the eye out of embarrassment. You don’t even have a crush on this guy, yet you feel hot and bothered.

“Be careful, princess,” he crouches low enough for your ears only. “We don’t need you flailing around this train.”

“Don’t do that,” you scoff. “Don’t call me princess.”

“Why?”

The train doors open, and you calmly remove his hands from you, gazing deep into his eyes.

“Because I’m far from that.”

You walk away before he has a chance to respond, looking for the gate you need to be at. Bitchiness aside, you stand on what you said. You aren’t some helpless person waiting in a tower for someone to come save you or give you a handout. You’ve worked hard for everyone to see you more than a woman, as it already has a stigma.  The constant belittling of your intelligence, being told to “wait your turn,” you are done with it. You’ve taken control of your destiny your life, and you will not be treated like some delicate little girl waiting to be saved from a castle… no matter how hot the knight is.

You feel relieved when you find your gate and a familiar face sitting with her iPad in her hand. As if she felt you coming, Shena looks up and waves you over to where she is sitting. Dressed in mint green sweats and matching crocs, she stands out in front of the dull black seats.

“There you are,” she greets you with a hug. “It’s not like you to be late. I sent you a text wondering where you were.”

“You did?”

You pull out your phone, and sure enough, you have received one unread message from her. She must have sent it when you were on the train, distracted by Mingyu and his hands on your body. It’s not like you to get riled up, and it ticks you off that it happened with him, of all people. Your life is a joke. 

You plop down next to her, cocking your head back in exhaustion. Before fully relaxing, you feel the seat beside you shift, followed by the smell of light cologne and chocolate. Looking over, you see Mingyu adjusting his bag before setting it on the ground. He is holding a small chocolate bar and taking a small bite, savoring the decadent treat as he licks his lips. You look away before being caught, chagrined that you were staring at him for that long. What is with you?

“Oh hey there, Gyu,” Shena waves at him. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, I just got here,” he smiles. “I had to find my way to the gate since this one here is a speed walker.”

“Oh? You guys arrived together?”

“Not together, together,” you emphasize. “We just happened to be on the same train, that’s all.” 

You purposely avoid Shena’s eye contact, clearing your throat and changing the subject. 

“Did you notice we are flying first class?”

“Yeah!” Shena beams, pulling out her ticket. “I’ve never been out of the country, let alone first class. Lumina was bummed she couldn’t tag along. The shelter has her tied up, and it is kinda last minute.”

“Aww,” you rub her knee. “There will always be a next time, right?”

Shena nods, and the flight attendants announce they are about to start boarding, starting with first class. You pop out of your seat first, grab your things, and stand in line. Anticipation drills in your heart, wanting nothing more than to sit in some very comfortable seats and sleep throughout this 8-plus hour flight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mingyu behind you, his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. He leans in closer, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as his lips barely touch your ear. 

“I know you’re not a princess,” he whispers. “You’ve proven to be more than that. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to care for you sometimes.”

You were next in line and couldn’t respond without the flight attendants giving you weird looks. Instead, as they check your ticket, you do what you know best: bite your tongue, smile, and push it aside. 

Madrid is exquisite; it is everything you saw on your Pinterest board and more. You’ve been here a few days and are in love. You are surrounded by gorgeous cerulean waters, good weather, and historic sites you always wanted to see as a child. The Almudena Cathedral, one of the most prominent catholic churches in the world, took your breath away when you went to visit. The  Francisco de Cubas architecture throughout made you appreciate art more, one of the most beauteous works you have ever seen in person.

You also took time to visit the local market, talking with the locals about their lives and picking up fresh food to try out different dishes for the competition. Shena was a big help, taking over in Spanish if you needed help and also giving fresh ideas on what to cook. You knew a bit of Spanish to get around the city and ask questions, but coming from a Spanish-speaking household, Shena could convey your ideas in ways you couldn’t understand. You will be forever grateful for that. 

“It looks like we’re here.” Rich called you both to the restaurant this evening to show you around and tell you where your cooking stations would be. The restaurant stood atop a hill, with small walk-up steps made of stone mosaics. Surrounded by boutique shops and a couple of markets, this was the only restaurant on the block; you couldn’t miss it. You understood quickly why Rich took this location. He meets you at the entrance, greeting each other in dos besos. 

“Welcome, let me show you around. Mingyu is already here.” You walk into the small waiting area before entering a gorgeous main dining area with walls made of Spanish moss brick. The bar is neatly placed in the middle, already loaded with the finest wines and other liquors. The dining tables and chairs are made of mahogany, giving you a vibe that you are back home in the country. 

“Ah, there he is,” Rich looks to your right.

Mingyu walks up, wearing a white beater accentuating his well-toned arms and acid-blue jeans that hit him perfectly. You couldn’t stop ogling him if you wanted to; you would’ve thought he was a model off the street if you didn't know him. His eyes scan Rich and Shena before landing on you, a slight smirk on his lips that only you seem to notice. Ever since your encounter at the airport, he’s been on your mind, and you hate it. You still feel his hands on your hips on the train, as if he imprinted on you.  

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to find the bathroom.” “No worries,” Rich waves him off. “Let me show you around.” 

He takes you to where your cooking stations would be, explaining how everything was set up and where to find your ingredients so you could prepare them. The competition is in three days, giving you enough time to finish your menu and prep before the big day. The kitchen is magnificent, a sight straight out of your daydreams: stainless steel appliances, expensive cast irons, and utensils you’ve always wanted that were way out of your budget. You may hate the idea of this competition, but working at this location would be a dream come true. 

“Imagine if we got to work here,” Shena whispers. “I’ve only seen kitchens like these on Master Chef.” You nod in agreement, your fingers barely grasping the counter's surface. Rich finishes showing you around and asks everyone what their plans are leading up to the big day.  “Nothing, just prepping and looking around the city a bit more,” you shrug. “Well, that sounds boring! ” He exclaims. “Madrid has such a fun nightlife. It would be a shame for you to miss out. As a matter of fact, why don’t you kids go to Kapital tomorrow? I can get you a table, and you can let loose.”

“Well, shit, okay!” Shena pipes up before you can respond. 

You groan internally, not in the mood to be body-to-body against strangers, sweating your hair out during loud music. You don’t see yourself having fun until this whole thing is over. How does this guy expect you to relax? It’s not like his dreams are on the line. You look over at Mingyu, who matches your gaze, leaning against one of the refrigerators. 

“Yeah,” his eyes finally tear away from you. “I’m down.”

You’re the only one left who hasn’t given an answer, and everyone is looking at you expecting one. 

“Okay, let’s do it,” you mask your disdain with a smile. 

“Great!” He claps his hands in excitement. “I will send you the details later and get you set up. Have fun.” 

Rich walks you out, and you ask for the bathroom. You need a moment to pee and think in peace. He points you toward one, and you walk into the grand bathroom decorated with an old European interior that was undoubtedly above your salary. You walk to the furthest stall away from the door, rubbing your temples as you do what you need to do. For the most part, you handle stress well. You compartmentalize your feelings about what needs to be done, and you’ve been fine. Even now, with this competition vastly approaching and Mingyu somehow encompassing your thoughts when you’re around him, you’re fine. You haven’t cracked.

You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so much. You still think about when he touched you on the train and how your body felt alive. You haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Is your body so desperate for intimacy that you melt at the first person who gives you attention? No, that can’t be it. You’ve been fine all this time. Why is Mingyu getting under your skin? Shaking those thoughts away, you wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door wide open, you are met by the man who has been plaguing your thoughts since you’ve been here. He was waiting for you, his back leaned against the wall, fiddling with a toothpick in his mouth. 

“Rich and Shena are waiting for you… you can get kind of lost here,” Mingyu says. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod slowly. “Well, let’s go.” The walk back to the front feels longer than it is. He hums a soft tune as he strides beside you, like he’s your equal, your partner. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you feel comfortable. 

“So, what have you been doing since you’ve landed?” Mingyu asks.

“I did some sightseeing,” you respond. “I visited the Almudena Cathedral and the local markets with Shena and got some ingredients for the competition. Oh, and worked on the menu.” “That’s it?” Mingyu looks surprised. “There is so much more of Madrid you have to see.” “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of time to go out there and explore,” you defend yourself. “Plus, I can’t really relax with this thing coming up.” You point at the kitchen. “How do you do it?” “How about I show you?” 

You stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from the door. 

“What do you mean show me?” You eye him suspiciously. “I’m going to pick you and Shena up tomorrow, and we will explore together. There’s so much the world has to offer besides cooking and work.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“You’ll see.”

You both walk outside, and Shena sits at one of the tables, talking candidly on the phone. Rich is nowhere to be found. The moon peeks over the horizon, the white orb’s light shining over the waters. Normally, you wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he has a point. Maybe you should live a little. “You are something. You know that?

Mingyu shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just believe in living life to the fullest. We don’t know how long we may have.”

You eye him more, studying his face in hopes that you can find a false truth and be more at ease. When you don’t, it does the opposite of relaxing you; it makes you nervous. You might be starting to like this guy.

Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll send you the address.”

“He’s here!” You check yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the middle of your blue floral white dress. You opted to wear your hair in a low bun, matching earrings, and a necklace you’ve had for years.  Sliding on your white sandals, you grab your purse and leave your room. “Phew!” Shena whistles at you. “Qué guapa estás!”

You roll your eyes playfully as she pops out of her seat, sporting a white top and blue jeans, accessorized with a light cardigan and a simple gold necklace. You usually wouldn’t dress up this nice for an outing with friends (and Mingyu), but you wanted to be prepared for anything, and it would kill you if you were underdressed. Plus, you were going to be in Europe! Why wouldn’t you want to be prepared?

You walk out of your Airbnb and meet Mingyu as he comes in. He is dressed casually in a white collared shirt and black shorts, the slight breeze lifting his shirt and exposing his abs. It took a lot of brainpower to look away, instead diverting your attention to the inside of your purse. He looks tanned and relaxed, as if he is one with Madrid. If only you could relax like that. 

“Hey, Gyu,” Shena waves. “Thank you for leading the way on this grand adventure.” 

“No problem,” Mingyu smiled. “I want this to be a fun day, and I figured we have a driver, so why not?”

He looks at you, and your heart patters. The sun and slight breeze do not help your plight as you fight internally against acknowledging how sexy he looks. You hate your body for the way it’s betraying you right now, feeling inadvertently turned on. 

“You look pretty,” he marveled at you. 

“Thanks,” you nod sheepishly, walking to the black car behind him. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

There is a tiny bit of you that wants you to look good for him, to be seen that you put in the effort. When you get in the car, you greet the driver, sitting in the back row, hoping he will get the hint that you want to be left to yourself and your thoughts. But that didn’t work that way, as he climbs in and sits right next to you, with Shena seated in the row in front. His cologne is light, different from the usual sweet, chocolatey smell you’re accustomed to when he’s around. It’s enchanting, exciting, and further puts you in a mood. “So where are we going?” Shena probed, snapping on her seatbelt. “The Royal Palace,” Mingyu announced. “They have a tour, and I figured we could get lunch afterward.”

The driver pulls off, and you gaze outside the window, admiring the beautiful architecture of Madrid. Visiting the Royal Palace was on your bucket list, but you didn’t think you would have time. You’ve seen the pictures on Pinterest and talked to some locals at the restaurant who have been, but you’ve always been told that tickets are hard to get. You never thought it would be attainable for you.

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s deep voice infiltrates your thoughts. 

“Nothing, really,” you say, smoothing out your dress. “I am just enjoying the foreign atmosphere.” 

“Foreign atmosphere?” Mingyu chuckles. “That’s an interesting way of saying you enjoy the view.”

“Well, are we not in a foreign place?” You retort. 

“Well, yes.”

“Alright then.” You look back out the window, biting your lip to hold back a grin. You are thankful for the soft tunes from the car radio, letting the reggaeton beats drown out your very loud thoughts. Mingyu gets you riled up in a way that no one can. He doesn’t frustrate you in ways like the other men do at the restaurant. Deep down, it’s not in an ill manner; he is just like the golden retriever: nudging your leg with a bone in his mouth, begging you to play with him.

“I brought you something,” he nudges your shoulder. “I know you didn’t eat.” You look down and see that he is holding a granola bar coated with vanilla and almonds, poking out of a sandwich bag. The sweet smell is heaven to your nose, and your mouth slightly salivates. He tapes Shena on the shoulder, handing her one of her own.

“You made this?” Shena probes, carefully taking it from him. “This is really sweet.”

You take a small bite of it, and your taste buds do a happy dance. The vanilla was freshly made, and you taste the granola, almond, and sweet spices used to make this perfect bar. You aren’t big on breakfast, as you’re used to getting up and moving on the go, but occasionally, you will grab a granola bar and eat it on your breaks at work, this one explicitly being your favorite. Maybe Mingyu knows you better than you thought.

“You’re right,” you confessed. “I hadn’t eaten anything. Thank you.” The car pulls to a stop, arriving at the grandiose building known as The Royal Palace. You wait until everyone leaves the vehicle, barely climbing out without tripping over your feet. Standing outside of the gates, you are in awe. You aren’t sure if it’s dopamine, but the air suddenly feels different and almost cleaner. You scrambled into your purse, pulling out your portable camera to photograph the palace. This place may not be one of the world's seven wonders, but in your heart, it is. “Oooo, let’s take pictures while we are here,” Shena squeals.

She pulls you and Mingyu close to her, takes over the camera, and snaps a few photos together and separately. Usually, you would be annoyed if it was someone else, but she is your best friend. You can let her get away with a few things. Mingyu goes to the booth to confirm they have arrived, returning with three tickets to take inside. “We can go in through a separate entrance since I got the tickets ahead of time,” he announces. You flip through the pictures through the camera, excited to take more. You feel his eyes bore into you, and you suddenly feel hot. 

“What are you looking at?” You say, putting your camera away. 

“Your smile,” he confesses with a cheeky grin. “I want to see it more often.”

You gaze at each other for a moment, your mouth parted with much to say and nothing at the same time. Mingyu keeps leaving you speechless, and you aren’t mad about it anymore.

“Are you two gonna keep staring at each other lovingly, or are we gonna do this thing?” Shena’s words snap you out of your reverie, and Mingyu chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. You walk over to her, linking your arm with yours. 

“There is nothing loving going on.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go look at some royalty.”

When you planned for this trip, you set a time to visit the Almudena Cathedral, visit the local markets, and plan your menu. You weren’t going to hold Shena to that standard even though she is your assistant. You thought you would be fine if you focused on nothing but food and didn’t get distracted. Mingyu, however, might be proving you wrong. 

You sit at his Airbnb, watching him make lunch for you and Shena. He insisted on making something instead of eating out somewhere, and who are you to turn down a free meal? The Royal Palace was everything you imagined, learning about the history of Spain beyond what was in your textbooks in high school. You consider yourself a history buff, wanting to learn more about the world across the different seas. You’ve had that desire when you were a little girl, sitting on your grandmother’s lap and listening to her stories from when she traveled as a young adult. She never got to visit Spain, but she talked about it a lot, being that they were world conquerors (or, as you like to say, colonizers) back in the day. You really miss her. 

Mingyu sets your plate in front of you, a fried calamari sandwich with a side of garlicky mayo and fries he made himself. He tops it off with a small squeeze of lemon juice, just as you like it. When you make this at the restaurant, you always add lemon juice on top to give it more depth, but instead of the mayo, you have paprika-spiced tomato sauce on the side. Either way, this shows that Mingyu has been paying attention when you felt incognito. 

“Dig in,” he announces, sitting next to you at the island bar. 

It’s a comfortable silence between you three, munching away at your well-seasoned meal. If you had to be honest with yourself, it’s the best sandwich you have ever had. He fried the calamari in olive oil, turning it every minute or so because it doesn’t take that long to cook. He apparently had the calamari sitting in milk in the refrigerator since this morning, allowing it to tenderize before mixing it with his own seasoning flour. You and Shena offered to help, but he turned you down, stating you were his guests and he wanted to treat you to something good before you went out later that night. 

“This was really good,” Shena praises him as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You have to come over again and make these for Lumina and me.”

“Anything for you two,” he teases. “As long as you keep making those margaritas.” They howl in laughter, and you feel a bit awkward as if they have an inside joke that you aren’t a part of. You smile politely, finishing off the last bit of your food before getting off your stool and grabbing your plate to wash. 

“Aht aht,” Shena blurts, scrambling out of her seat. “I will be handling the cleanup. You two sit out there and act like you like each other.”

Your eyes throw darts at her for that last sentence, and she blows you a kiss as you walk to the balcony for some fresh air. The warm sun is welcome on your skin, the warmth taking away the chill you have in your bones from inside. You stare out into the sea, watching the boats go back and forth from the ports, the busy life from the markets a site to behold. You feel completely at peace for the first time since you’ve been here. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Mingyu pokes his head out from the balcony door, holding a pink lemonade decorated with an umbrella. 

“Sure, if you are bringing that,” you quip, pointing at the drink. 

“Of course, princess,” he jests back.

As you take the drink, you raise an eyebrow, debating whether you should be annoyed at that nickname or amused that he’s teasing you. He stands comfortably next to you, admiring the cerulean blue waters in front of you. 

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to leave.” 

You look at him, his happy-go-lucky nature replaced by a look of sadness and longing. It’s unnerving, as you have always seen him with a warm orange aura around him. His hands grip the gate as he takes a softer, deeper breath, turning to face you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod slowly, your anxiety ticking up about what he wants to ask. 

“What got you into cooking?”

You look away, staring back into the calm sea. No one has bothered to ask you anything personally about yourself besides Shena and Lumina, and you are unsure how to respond. It would mean opening a part of you to someone new, and you haven’t done that in a long time. It means that you would have to relieve your past and start trusting him, and you are scared of that. 

Stepping across the magical line of faith and hope, you take a sip of your lemonade. “My grandma used to cook a lot growing up, and I would sit in the kitchen and watch her. Whatever you wanted, she could make it. My parents weren’t around, and she was the one who raised me. I eventually started cooking with her, which spurned my love for cooking, but mainly because I was doing it with her.” You pause, your breath shaky as you relive one of the hardest moments of your life. “On Christmas, I found her unconscious beside her chair. Apparently, she had a stroke and didn’t have oxygen for fifteen minutes before I saw her. I did everything I could to save her by hooking her with her oxygen machine before the paramedics arrived, but it was too late. She was declared brain dead.”

Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, embarrassed that you let yourself reach this point in front of Mingyu. He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to cry a little in his arms. Unbeknownst to you, Shena walks out and notices your tears, but Mingyu shushes her quietly, allowing you to grieve just a little bit longer. You regain your composure, giving yourself some space and adjusting his shirt. “I ruined your shirt,” you pout. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly. “You need something to lean on, and I’m glad I got to be that for you.”

Gazing into his eyes, you see the familiar warm orange swirling in his little orbs. Inadvertently, you move closer to him, your heart and body overruling your mind for once. Mingyu responds kindly, pulling you closer to him with his hands dangerously on your hips. 

“Is it okay if I—”

“Mingyu, do it before I change my mind.”

His lips press against yours, and your legs almost buckle. It is soft and tentative, as if he is playing it safe in case you want out. But you don’t; instead, you kiss him deeper. It is as if something takes over you, and you can’t stop. Call it desire, passion, or any other synonym, but it’s what you feel. You want him, and so does he. His hands travel lower, giving your butt a soft squeeze, and you accidentally moan in his mouth. You think he likes it, though, because his bulge is hardening against your center. 

“If we don’t stop, there is no coming back from this,” he breathes.

Your mind regains consciousness at those words; you know he is right. With one last kiss, you begrudgingly pull away, walking back inside and squarely bumping into Shena. 

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She joked while taking a good look at you. 

“Nothing, let’s just go,” you insist. “We still have to get ready for tonight and all.”

Shena looks at you and the balcony suspiciously but doesn’t say anything; honestly, you appreciate that. You don’t know how you can answer any questions she may throw at you. All you know right now is Mingyu drives you fucking crazy. 

Part 2 will be coming soon. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are much appreciated :)

tag: @nonuify

[astonmartinii]

big girls do(n't) cry | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: reader x charles leclerc

charles' gf just can't seem to catch a break

yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 201,876 others

yourinstagram: weekend breaking with the girlypops

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leclercbaby: so charles is racing in miami and y/n is out spending his money with her friends?

ynandcharles: you know she has a job right? and a life outside of charles?

charlesdefender: let's not pretend her little writing gig covers all of this shit

charles_leclerc: lovely lady

yourinstagram: why thank you my dashing gentleman

ferrarigirl16: imagine dating an elite athlete and smoking? it's so gross charles needs to drop her asap

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc: friday feeling in monaco 🇲🇨

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babygirlpierre NO Y/N ??? DON'T GET ME EXCITED

holacarlos55 do you people not have jobs or ?

yourusername what do they put in the water in monaco woooooof

charles_leclerc says the tall glass of water herself

justleclercthings let's not pretend that her missing his home gp isn't a HUGE deal omg

lordperceval i usually don't care about wag drama but like ... we all know y/n is the worst wag, right? she hardly comes to races, is always spending his money with her friends and is smoking as if he doesn't need to be in top condition?

likedbypierregasly you might have a point

yourusername

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tagged: charles_leclerc, yourbff1, yourbff2, yourbff3

yourusername: you didn't think i'd forgotten about monaco, did you?

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cl16x mother back to mothering as she should

charlesstan okay well some of y'all are real quiet now

charles_leclerc wouldn't be a monaco race without you (and your stray cats)

yourbff since we're staying at your house i'll keep what i wanted to say to myself

yourbff2 meow bitch

yourusername don't pretend you don't love us

peargasly why can't she go anywhere without her friends it's so weird

pierregaslight because she obviously has no friends in the paddock any time the camera goes to the ferrari garage no one is ever with her

grussy63 she seems super annoying idk what charles sees in her

f1wagsupdates

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f1wagsupdates: y/n y/ln at the release party for her new book sharp objects! this is her third book and it's already a new york times best seller, so happy for her

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howdyricciardo so everyone who gets on her ass when she can't go to races but where's the same energy for charles now - we all know they have the week off cause he's on holiday with pierre.

landonowins it's such a double standard

number16 i still think she's bad for charles her actually doing her job won't change my mind

charlesbaby can't wait for the day when she won't be on this page anymore

perceval16 these comments ... they're on every post i really think charles needs to say something at this point, he's just hanging y/n out to dry

yourusername added to their story

[caption: lonesome love. i am bored by his heroism, virtue, and honour. i think the best these men can do is not talk about themselves anymore]

yourbff

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tagged: yourusername

yourbff: since no one else will, LISTEN UP SLUTS!!! this girl is the most talented and kind-hearted girl in the whole entire world. ANYONE would be lucky to be with her, so it honestly BAFFLES my mind that those blessed enough to be with her are so silent when his so-called fans rip a person they do not know apart on social media. i say this sincerely GET A LIFE!!! also she's the sexiest girl in the world and could have literally anyone she wants so PICK UP THE SLACK OR we'll activate operation hot girl summer - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

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yourbff1 @charles_leclerc

yourbff2 @charles_leclerc

yourbff3 @charles_leclerc

yourusername i love you all so much - platonic soulmates for real

danielricciardo @charles_leclerc

charlieleclerc oh wow charles just got humbled

charles_leclerc

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tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i've not been the best of boyfriends in recent weeks, so it is time i say my piece. y/n is the most talented, patient and beautiful individual i have ever met and i won't stand for her being attacked on social media by my "fans". you are not a fan of mine if you attack my girlfriend. i love her and nothing an anonymous comment can say will ever change that. you attack her for not "supporting" me enough and yet none of you know anything from behind the scenes (not that you should need to), if anything i have been the unsupportive one. i love y/n so so much and i will do anything to make sure she knows it. please stay out of our business.

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yourusername

liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc and 101,775 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: he's mine. cry more.

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lilacleclerc i love them so much PARENTS

danielricciardo WHOOP TELL EM'

charles_leclerc love you too baby

yourusername i love you more

landonorris mic drop

myloveleclerc finally !!!

dutchlion i'm so glad he finally said something - and also me if i were a wag CRY MORE

note: bit of a random one but alas i hope y'all enjoy

[livwritessometimes]

Opposite - Pierre Gasly

: Pierre Gasly x Singer!reader

: Pierre’s new relationship leaves Y/n questioning their time together

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - finallyyyy got time to write this part!! Also let me know if you guys want a taglist for I'm Pretty When I Cry Series (I have a few people who want to be tagged in Pt 2 for loml and Enough For You)

…

liked by pierregasly and 84,946 others

👤: pierregasly

Yourname: "Hey dan- I mean Bonjour" "Oh you mean, Au Revoir! Goodbye Humphrey, we're leaving" "where are you guys going?" "Paris"

view all 78,732 comments

pierregasly: It absolutely did not take Y/n 30 minutes to find this particular episode from gossip girls, just so she could use it as her caption

-> Yourname: Uh as if! guys let me tell you Pierre was just as invested as I was, if not more while watching the episode

-> pierregasly: shhh don't expose me 🤐

liked by Yourname and 102,721 others

👤: Yourname

pierregasly: Terrorizing the streets of New York with the biggest baddie who wears a bow!

view all 92,682 comments

Yourname: say all you want about the bow, just know when we get caught and they take our mugshots, we know who's gonna look good and who's not 💅🏻

-> alpinef1team: Please don't get arrested, we can't have our driver behind the bars before the season starts 😅

-> pierregasly: ...🥲

User39: Y/n and Pierre try to write normal caption challenge failed 🙅🏻‍♀️

-> User44: I love them constantly bullying each other 🥰

liked by pierregasly and 92,731 others

👤: pierregasly

Yourname: Rolling into the Dutch Grand Prix in style!

view all 89,727 comments

pierregasly: 🩵

User77: OMGGGG P33333!!! Let's goooooo

User98: Best good luck charm Pierre could ask for 🍀

*liked by Yourname*

liked by Yourname and 106,931 others

👤: Yourname, alpinef1team

pierregasly: You get P3 and then all of a sudden you are tackled to the ground by some crazy fangirl 🙄 but jokes aside I could not have done this without your support, a huge shoutout to my amazing team and equally (if not more) amazing fans!!!

view all 87,673 comments

alpinef1team: YESSSS! So Proud 💪🏻

alpinef1team: Best crazy fangirl to have around in the garage

-> Yourname: ...stop 🙈

liked by pierregasly and 98,673 others

👤 : pierregasly

Yourname: Happy birthday to the weird guy from my flight who likes to sleep with his mouth open...He's quite the character!

view all 80,721 comments

pierregasly: I can feel the love radiating from this post 🤭

-> Yourname: Guys that weird guy from my flight is back and now in my comment section

-> pierregasly: Jokes on you I'm inside your house

-> Yourname: 😨

User41: You guys are so cuteeeee! never stop bullying each other 🫶🏻

liked by Yourname and 95,731 others

👤: Yourname

pierregasly: Happy birthday to my crazy fangirl!! Here's to more years of bullying you 🥂

view all 86,821 comments

Yourname: Aa Ha there we have it folks, he just admitted he bullies me! My lawyer will get in touch with you Mr. Gasly and just so you know I'm getting the custody of @/alpinef1team 's admin

-> alpinef1team: Mom pick me up I'm scared, Dad is binge watching Gossip Girls again!!

-> pierregasly: wow! my own team i against me

-> alpinef1team: 🤭

User09: I will never get married if they break up

-> User712: Girl- same 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Y/n paused for a moment. The 10 minutes she had spent selecting every single photo she had with Pierre felt like eternity to her. So lost in her thought, she did not notice a drop tear roll down her face. It is funny how things can change so easily; how a lifetime worth of promises comes with an expiration date. "You will heal; I mean, look at how far you've come from where we were before," said Gracie, Y/n's best friend and probably the only person she had told about her breakup. For the rest of the world, Y/n and Pierre, 'the most playful couple', were still together, spending their vacation in some city filled with love and laughter.

It was Gracie who suggested that it's bout time she deleted their photos. I mean, it has been 2 months already; there is no point in holding on to something, someone who no longer wants to do anything with her.

She knew she would be fine. I mean, isn't that's how it's supposed to go? You hurt, you heal. It was simple, so why was it that hitting the delete button felt like the most difficult task in the world? Swallowing the lump in her throat, Y/n finally pressed the button, which in an instant erased the French man's existence from her life. Goodbyes are hard, especially when you did not see them coming. Y/n never dreamt of a future where she and Pierre wouldn't be together; sadly for her, that was the reality she now had to live in.

francisca.cgomes added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 65,821 others

Sitting in front of her dresser, Y/n was busy getting ready for the night. She saw the news about Pierre seeing someone else flood her Twitter feed. It's okay; it's not like he owed her an explanation or the fact that they broke up 4 months ago. It's perfectly fine for people to go out and explore the dating pool again. Hell, even Y/n had been on a few dates, none that got past the second date. What bothered her was the fact that Pierre was seen with his new girl in Paris. She still distinctively remembers one warm afternoon in July, where both she and Pierre were cuddled up on the couch watching some random movie to kill time. It was then that he told her, "I'm so excited for next week," he had said as he pulled Y/n closer to him. "And why is that?" she had questioned with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Paris holds a very special place in my heart, and a long time ago I decided that I would only take the people closest to my heart there," he said. "And you are very special to me, ma chérie," he added. It was always like this: cheeky comments and flirtatious replies were what made their relationship theirs. 

So seeing him take Francisca Gomes to Paris felt like a direct hit. Here she was barely able to hold onto a new date, and there he was going to the city of love with his 'special person.'

Y/n had just finished applying a sheet mask and decided to watch some videos on YouTube while waiting for her timer to go off. Scrolling through the home page, her eyes landed on an interview with none other than Francisca or Kika, as everyone on the internet had called her. "Kika Gomes on Balancing Life as a Model, a Student, and the Girlfriend of Pierre Gasly" read the title. She knows she shouldn't; she knows that no positive outcome will come from this video, but ignoring all the warning signs, Y/n clicked on the video. Her room was filled with the voice of Kika and the interviewer. Sometime after the introduction and general questions, Y/n stopped paying attention to what was being said in the interview. That was until she heard the interviewer ask Kika about her and Pierre's relationship.

On that reply, Y/n let out a dry chuckle. 'When you know, you just know' how basic. Of course she would think that; why would she mind them moving in 'too fast'? She's got nothing to lose. It was Y/n that had to suffer over them 'moving in too fast.' But no one paid attention to that, because she was not the one he was in love with, not anymore, at least.

Sometime later in the interview, the host asked Kika to play a game, answer a few questions, and take part in a challenge. After about 5-6 questions, the host announced the challenge: 'Get Pierre to text you back in 2 minutes; if she fails, she has to perform a dare.' With a scoff, Y/n said, "Good luck with that." She knows there is no way Pierre would reply within 2 minutes; he never did that during the entirety of their 2 years together, and there is no way he's gonna do it now. She saw Kika type a message to Pierre before hitting send and answering yet another question. It had barely been 30 seconds; the girl on the screen barely finished her sentence when the ding from her notification filled the studio. Y/n felt her heart drop; there was no way it was him; he had never been so quick before. Ya, Y/n was sure it was not him, but then what Kika said made her doubt a lot of things about her relationship with Pierre.

That reply was quick; that's what bothered Y/n. No, scratch that; that was one of the things that bothered Y/n about this new relationship. The girl in front of her could not have been more different from Y/n. She was taller than her, younger than her, and a lot prettier than her. They could not have been more opposite of each other. It made Y/n question whether she was even Pierre's type all along. Was that the reason why he broke up with her? because she was not like the usual girls he would go for? because she did not fit his standard of beauty? Before Y/n could spiral down any further, her phone started ringing, startling her and cutting off her long chain of thought. Looking down, she saw that it was her manager who was calling her. She looked at the top of the screen to check the time: 11:24 p.m. It was odd for her manager to call her at this hour. Confused,  she answered the phone, "Hello?"

liked by gracieabrams and 120,371 others

👤 : gracieabrams, taylorswift

Yourname: Word on the street that two best friends are on their way to traumatize a whole lot of people at the ERAS TOUR!!!! YES you heard it right, my boy Mario and I are officially joining the wonderful, absolutely stunning Taylor Swift at the Eras Tour.

view all 100,282 comments

gracieabrams: AHHHHHHHHH

-> gracieabrams: OH MY GODDDDDDDD

-> gracieabrams: I HAVEN'T STOPPED CRYING

-> gracieabrams: I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

User66: @/taylorswift I think you broke Gracie

gracieabrams: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY MARIO?? Where did you get that photo from????

-> Yourname: I have my own ways 😌

liked by gracieabrams and 99,722 others

Yourname: Best believe I'm still bejeweled, when I walk in the room....Yk how that saying goes ✨

view all 90,801 comments

Yourname: Also for everyone wondering where I got that cowboy hat from? I made it with TAYLOR SWIFT 🙌🏻

-> User83: Please tell me you have matching COWBOY HATS????

-> Yourname: You bet your ass we do 👏🏻

gracieabrams: Well ofc a diamond's gotta SHINEE~

-> Yourname: see Gracie gets it!!

taylorswift: Howdy partner <3

-> Yourname: I see you everyday yet when I saw the notification that you commented, I almost called my mom out of excitement!!!!

*liked by taylorswift*

-> taylorswift: 😂

liked by Yourname and 173,982 others

👤 : Yourname, taylorswift

gracieabrams: Oh nothing just a girls night in with my 2 besties 👯‍♀️

view all 120,282 comments

Yourname: I'm just gonna go ahead and say it I'm the best bartender out there!

-> gracieabrams: I was gonna say something sarcastic but I don't think my 7th glass of Margarita would let me 🫢

User87: Alt caption: Taylor Swift getting traumatized for 15 minutes straight from witnessing Y/n and Gracie fighting with each other every second of the day

*liked by taylorswift*

After one too many drinks, Y/n, Gracie, and Taylor were all chilling at the rental Y/n and Gracie were sharing. The night was filled with drinks and laughter. With soft music playing in the background, Y/n looked around at Gracie and Taylor, both texting their boyfriends, giggling over their phones. A content look on their faces. Even though Y/n smiled at the sight, a bitter taste filled her mouth. Excusing herself, she went to the bathroom. After being together with someone for 2 years, it's easy to forget what it's like to be single again. It's been 6 months now since they broke up. Y/n knows she shouldn't miss him, because it was obvious that he clearly wasn't missing her. Looking in the mirror, she saw her blonde hair and blue eyes staring back at her. She wondered was it her eyes? Did he just want someone who had darker eyes all along? Y/n knew Kika's features so well, that one might think of her as an obsessive fan, and maybe she was. Definitely not a fan though. Maybe she was obsessed with Kika; what was it that she has that Y/n doesn't? Way beyond her senses, Y/n, in her drunken state, pulled out her phone and opened Instagram to post a story of herself.

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User40 and 65,821 others

liked by User22 and 101,282 others

👤: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes

Formula1WagsUpdates: Pierre Gasly's partner, Kika Gomes, was spotted at the Miami Grand Prix. The couple were seen entering the paddock together. Some fans spotted the two being extremely affectionate, with Pierre's hand never leaving her back. Ever since the couple started dating, fans have noticed a change in Gasly's demeanor. Some say he has become more of a gentleman ever since Gomes entered his life. All we can say is that we love every moment we can get with the adorable couple.

view all 65,029 comments

User22: They are so cuteeeeee

User09: I'm not gonna lie Pierre has STEPPED UP as a boyfriend!!!

User87: I think it's kinda sad that they refer to Kika as Pierre Gasly's girlfriend and not just by her name. Honestly feel they would have never done that had it been Y/n here.

-> User60: I mean she is his girlfriend! how else should anyone introduce her????

liked by gracieabrams and 99,722 others

Yourname: Red is the color of the season! and no it's not because of my recent obsession with strawberry jam 🍓

view all 90,801 comments

gracieabrams: A lot of nonsense coming from someone who just finished their third bottle of jam this month

-> Yourname: Shhhhh don't say that out loud my trainer might hear you

taylorswift: The treats turned out to be soo goodddd!!

-> Yourname: I did have the best baking partner after all!!

User44: ummm is no one gonna talk about the last photo???

liked by charles_leclerc and 299,722 others

pierregasly and francisca.cgomes: The best new beggenings anyone could wish for!! Meet our baby boy Simba 🦁

view all 230,873 comments

francisca.cgomes: My son 🩵

-> pierregasly: you mean our son???

-> francisca.cgomes: NO MINE

alexandrasaintmleux: Leo and Simba playdate when???

-> francisca.cgomes: Just say the time and place and we'll be there

User88: OMGGG THEY GOT A DOGGGG

-> User30: Ikrrrrrrr!!! he really is ready to settle down 🥰

What are you supposed to feel when your ex moves on with his life? How should one even react when they see him show more commitment to his current relationship than he did to yours? Y/n wondered, What was even the point of feeling like this? I mean, shouldn't she be happy? She has got everything she could have asked for: a job with her idol, performing night after night in front of people who love her and her music, and spending every second of her life with her best friend by her side. Y/n had everything, but somehow she still felt empty. 

He got a dog with her. Y/n still remembers the day when she suggested they get a pet together. "Come on, Pierre, look at this puppy; he's perfect!!!," Y/n had beamed while showing Pierre a photo of the dog she had seen at the shelter. "He is cute, but you know we can't get a pet," Pierre had said. "We're not even home most of the time, and the constant travelling won't help the dog," he had reasoned. Dejected, she sat back down on the couch, opting to delete the photo. What's the point of keeping it when she knows she will never be able to adopt the puppy?

liked by gracieabrams and 102,882 others

Yourname: Been thinkin' lots of thoughts 💭

view all 93,702 comments

gracieabrams: hmmm how tho? because last I know i'm pretty sure it's empty up there, like spider webs and shit 😌

-> Yourname: I had ordered Taco Bell for us but looks like you won't be needed it anymore 🙃

-> gracieabrams: Y/N NOOO! I swear I was just kidding 😭

-> User09: Not a single day goes by without us getting Gracie and Y/n acting like kids 🤦🏻‍♀️

User33: Did she just...post lyrics?????????? and that angsty ones?????

-> User86: Shhhhhh!! It can't hurt you if you refuse to acknowledge it

It was finally done. Y/n had just finished her album. She's not gonna lie; this album was probably the most difficult one to record. Especially the last song she recorded. After pushing it back for months, she finally did it. She got in the recording room and poured her little heart out. What surprised Y/n were the tears that came while she recorded the song. It's not like she was in love with him, not anymore, at least. Y/n had finally accepted the fact that no matter how much she questioned the reason for Pierre leaving her and choosing Kika, she could not come up with an answer that would have given her some closure. She had gone through every possible scenario in her head; what could she have done differently to make him stay? But while doing all this thinking, Y/n realized that no matter what she did, he would have ended up with her. Maybe he was holding out, waiting to find someone opposite her, someone who fit his description of "perfect," a match "made in heaven." 

It was time she let go of this chapter, no matter how much it hurt her, it was time to say goodbye to all the possibilities of them.

liked by gracieabrams and 172,874 others

Yourname: I'm so excited to announce my brand new album, 'Emails I Can't Send'! This album contains exactly what the title says. There will be a lot of times in life where you find yourself in a situation where you want to say things or question things, but you can't because that's just how things have to be. This album contains all the things I wish I could have said. I hope you enjoy the little piece of my heart that I'm sharing with you! Keep it safe <3

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gracieabrams: I am so proud of you!!!! words can't describe how proud I feel right now 🫂

*liked by Yourname*

taylorswift: I have been to the studio...and let's just say you guys are in for a ride!! 🎢

*liked by Yourname*

User97: DID YOU GUYS PLAY OPPOSITE BECAUSE AHHHHHH

…

Tags: @slutforpopculture | @emmynotawards | @be-your-coffee-pot | @bloodredlolipops | @papaya-twinks | @a-beaverhausen | @rayaharper

[yummymitzy]

Dangerous, right?

Summary: Being consultants in the LAPD was practically a routine for you and your brother, Lucifer. But you soon agreed that it was time for a change of scenery, in New York.

WC: 6,102

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fallen angel! reader

A/N- This fic took wayy longer cause I kept forgetting it was in my drafts😬

————♡ ————

Being fallen angels and living luxuriously in Los Angeles really came as a shock to you, especially when you and your brother were working for the LAPD as consultants. You two quickly got settled with your routines, and it probably had changed you both for the better.

You take that back, it really did change you both, not always for the better but improved your attitudes. You both stopped using harsh violence when it came to bad people, instead you both resorted to intimidating them. 

Now anyone could say that it was because you both sort of were cops and that you had to stop using violence, but you honestly didn’t care. They weren’t there to see you both improve so why feel the need to comment on it?

————♡ ————

You honestly forgot when exactly you and Lucifer had gotten yourself settled in with this luxurious life but neither of you were complaining. You really weren’t, but recently there has been this nagging thought in the back of your mind.

You felt like you could use a change of scenery, take a trip somewhere, probably treat it as a vacation. But you always brushed the idea off, not wanting to immerse yourself at the thought of it. 

Also because you didn’t want to mention it to Lucifer, not that you would have cared but his moods are incredibly sharp. Either he could be so overjoyed at the idea, or he’d think about it and come back to you days later.

But that changes today, well at least you hope. You absolutely did not want to miss out on a chance for a change of scenery, practically ready to squabble with your dear brother if he had rejected.

Waltzing out of your dramatically large bedroom, you honestly wondered why the room was so unnecessarily large when you were the only person living in it. You walked down the hallway down to the living room, assuming he’ll be on the couch drinking away.

Like you assumed, he was sat on the couch, leaning back into the cousins as he nursed a glass of whiskey as he stared at whatever was playing on the TV. 

A mischievous smile finds its way in your faces as you quieten your steps, before you walk up behind the couch. Snatching his glass of whiskey as you took a sip of it, the action making Lucifer snap his head towards you.

“The hell was that for?” He raised an eyebrow, the hand originally holding the glass was still raised before he dropped it after realizing. 

“Just wanted a sip. You could always refill it, the bottle is just right there, Lucifer.” You smirked before handing him back the glass of whiskey, your face dramatically contorting into an offensive look as he snatches it back. 

“No, that wasn’t what I was here for though, as much fun as it is bothering you, I have a suggestion.” You laugh as you rounded the couch and plopping yourself down right next to him as you smile at him. 

“And what may that be?” He turns his head to you as his eyebrows pinch together lightly in confusion. 

“What do you think about a little trip to New york?” You propose, your eyes examining his features, attempting to determine what he was thinking. 

Lucifer laughs, a full on belly laugh. As you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as your shoulder slumps slightly, had he thought your idea was stupid?

“What are you cackling for?” 

“Well, I just never thought you’d take this long to go somewhere outside LA.”

Your face feigns an overly dramatic look as you placed your hand above your heart. “I’m wounded, that really hurt me, Luci.” Your face shifting into a slight pout.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. But what about our jobs?” He rolls his eyes before they snap back to you while he took a sip of his whiskey that he had been swirling.

“We’ll resign, plus I think I know somebody who can set us up. The new job won’t be as different” You shrug as you leaned back further into the couch. You and Lucifer had went through hard work to even place yourselves a spot as consultants, especially with your past antics just made it more difficult.

But you had a feeling that with this new job you both will be cashing up, they wont judge based on either of your past mistakes. Reaching back into the back pocket of your jeans, you pull out your phone.

Lucifer noticed you were dialing up a number and he rose an eyebrow at you. You put a finger up to your lips as if to shush him, which it was. On the third ring, you were starting to get impatient but thankfully your contact finally picked up the phone.

“Y/n, to what do I owe the pleasure for your call? Because I do remember that you ghosted me last time.” 

You wince, completely slipped your mind that you had did that. But who was to judge you, he gave you an ultimatum and both choices weren’t good ones.

“I did that? Slipped my mind, anyways Nicky. I originally wanted to call you regarding business.”

You set the phone on speaker but sending a look towards Lucifer to keep quiet, to which he nods.

“Business eh? Fine. Just don’t run away this time.” You roll your eyes at his words, was he ever going to let that go? It was like he was practically holding a grudge against you for following your heart.

“Okay, anyways. Me and my brother were considering transferring to New York, and I was wondering if you still reserved that spot for me.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the shuffling of, papers?

“If you both get here quick then I’ll consider your spots.” Your eyes snap to Lucifer, raising an eyebrow as you both try to brainstorm the quickest way to New York.

“Kay, thanks Nicky.” You hang up as you drop your phone next to you onto the cushions of the couch, the phone bouncing before it finally stopped.

“Let’s just teleport there.” “Teleporting.” You and Lucifer said at the same time, the action making you smirk before you stood up and pocketed your phone once more.

“Kay, now let’s hurry up before Fury pops a blood vessel.” You turn your head to glance at him behind you before you walked off and into your bedroom.

You knew Fury and his tests, it was common sense he’d try and test your skills once more, especially with how long you had ghosted him for. But this time, you couldn’t help but think he had something else under his sleeve, and it wasn’t his tests.

Standing in the middle of your room, you immediately went straight to your walk in closet. This home really had its perks, you were honestly glad Lucifer bought it. Rummaging through the depths of your neatly folded clothes, you found what you were looking for.

Its appearance was one of a jewel, more so a ruby. It was roughly cut and sharp, as if it was made to be a head of a spear. The mere jewel wasn’t only a jewel though, it was a powerful weapon that was soon passed down to you. 

It was certainly stronger than you and Lucifer combined, containing magic that could even kill higher entities. You never considered harnessing it, as you mostly relied on the powers you were born with. 

But you knew Fury wasn’t going to just let the two of you join without testing your limits. As you gazed down into the jewel, you could practically see your reflection on it, but except it wasn’t your regular form. 

Your reflection on the jewel revealed yourself with your horns on show, the elongated horns traveling back before it curled in on itself, much like a goat. You broke your stare from your horns, your eyes traveling to your wings folded behind you on your back.

You blink a few times before looking away from the jewel, sighing as you tucked the jewel into the pocket that hid on the inside of your zip-up jacket. Your eyes skimmed across your room, looking for anything else you should consider taking with you to New York.

Assuming there wasn’t anything left to bring, you turn and walk towards your bedroom door, closing it with a soft thud as you left the room. You notice Lucifer back in the living room but not in the same spot as you had left him.

“You got what you need, brother?” 

“Well there isn’t anything else to bring, not unless you want me to bring a bottle of wine to greet them.” 

You laugh while you rolled your eyes at his comment before flames begin to emerge by the both of your feet. “Just don’t piss them off, Lucifer.” You say the moment before the flames engulf your face.

It was necessarily hard to describe what you were seeing while you teleported there, it was as if you were in space floating around for a split minute. The process was quick though, before you knew it, you were in New York and just right outside Fury’s meeting room where he told you to meet up.

You waited for at least a minute for Lucifers arrival, your hands reaching down into the pockets of your zip-up and tugging at the loose threads. You zoned out for however long it was and didn’t notice Lucifer shuffling as he regained his composure next to you.

“Y/n?” Your eyes immediately snap towards him before sighing, jeez were you that zoned out. You blink a few times before taking another deep breath to compose yourself, before turning towards Lucifer once more.

“Kay, let’s head in now. Looks like Fury’s just waiting for us.” You nod your head in the direction of the door as you turn to open it quietly, as to not disturb Fury’s oh so wonderful speech.

But quietly didn’t really work out for you as Fury’s eye promptly travels to you, get it, eye? Not eyes? Okay, anyway. His attention hadn’t been the only one you and Lucifer caught, as you took notice of a bulky blond man clad in a very bright blue suit staring straight at you both. 

Alongside with the man sitting next to him, another bulky man but clad in a dark combat suit with an eminently noticeable metal arm with a red star that resided on the shoulder. It looked cool, not everybody can walk around with a cool metal arm.

Your eyes soon travel back to Fury only to find he’s still staring at you, but you notice his mouth opens as he begins to speak once more as he stands up straighter. 

“Avengers,” Fury grabs their attention, their heads turning to meet him as they wait for what he’s going to say. “As I’m sure, Steve and Bucky already noticed the two new individuals in the back of the room.” 

Their heads snap in the direction of you and Lucifer, for a moment your gaze meets with a redheaded woman as she seemed to be analyzing you? Her face was void of any emotion, not letting you determine what had been going on in her head. 

You blink before averting your gaze away from her, your eyes focusing themselves on Fury as he continues to speak. “This is why I called for todays meeting, we will welcome two additional member, Y/n and Lucifer.” 

You see the redhead in the corner of your eye furrow her eyebrows at the mention of your names, you heard Lucifer let out a quiet sigh as neither of you didn’t really feel like explaining.

“As in the two fallen angels, Y/n and Lucifer?” You heard the white man with the blue suit inquire, his head tilting to the left slightly as he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Well there can’t be another pair of us, can there?” You quip, effectively cutting Fury off before he answered him, you raised an eyebrow towards the blond man as a smirk begins to tug on the corner of your lips. 

Fury clears his throat as he begins to speak once more, the action making you huff as you roll your eyes. Your eyes found themselves falling back onto the redhead, finding that she had already been looking at you.

You send her a soft smile and a wink as you immediately avert your gaze, prompting to try and familiarize yourself with the other members. You find yourself soon looking at a gruff looking man, he had a bow perched on his back while his bag of arrows hung on the back of his chair.

Looking towards the woman next to him, her clothes had an immensely dark contrast compared to the blond man from earlier. What would you expect, you couldn’t really imagine a white man with striking blue eyes to wear dark clothes.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt a nudge to your arm, looking to your left, you see Lucifer already glancing at you with a certain look. It was a stern look, as if to tell you to pay attention, weird. Lucifer was always the mischievous one out of the pair.

You notice that Fury had already gone through most of his talk and was asking for anymore questions, your eyebrows raising up to your forehead at the amount of people perking up. Glancing at Lucifer, you could tell that he was just as surprised as you were. 

“How come Fury never recruited you two earlier? Could’ve used the help.” A man with slightly slicked back hair with a sharp beard spoke up, making you smirk. He had a big ego, you could tell that you and him were immediately going to be close. 

“Simple, he did….Well tried. But we ghosted him, we weren’t up for that yet.” 

“So wait, if you both are fallen angels then where are your wings?” The blond man questioned once more. You roll your eyes while Lucifer snickered, his shoulders shaking as he laughed, but Lucifer soon decided to perk up once he composed himself.

“We still have them.” 

“Then where are they? They clearly aren’t on your back.” Somebody new quips, making your eyes snap to the origin of the new voice. Now this person you couldn’t miss, it was Bruce Banner, or well the Hulk. 

Now one could question why you didn’t know everybody else but him, well simply because he’s so reckless that he really makes a name for himself everywhere he goes. You see Lucifer in the corner of your eye clenching his jaw, trying his hardest to not laugh in his face, so you decide to speak for him.

“Well, Bruce. Would people still see a part of hulk in you once you transform back into your human form? Cause pray to the gods you aren’t green, or as large as this room.“ You quip as you raise an eyebrow at him, your eyes narrowing slightly before your face breaks out in a grin while Lucifer cackles. You can hear quiet snickering coming from the room as you stare straight through Bruce.

You and Lucifer glance at each other before spreading your wings to their full length, you were aware honestly glad that you managed to create clothes that never ripped after displaying your wings. The action was quick, your wings popped out as they gracefully folded behind you, still on display.

You could honestly laugh with how stunned Bruce looked, but with the way Fury had glanced you and Lucifer, you kept quiet.

“Enough. Natasha, Steve, can you please escort Y/n and Lucifer to their quarters?” Fury rolled his eye as he slumped back into his chair, his hand rubbing at his temples. You heard the two individuals hum in response as they stood up and walked over towards you and Lucifer. 

“I better not find you fucking the American Idol, Luci.” You lean into his side as you whisper in his ear before you stood up straight as you felt Lucifer glaring at your side profile.

You notice that the redheaded lady, that you now know as Natasha is going to be the one escorting you, making you smile slightly. She really had interested you.

“Y/n Morningstar, and who may you be?” You inquire in a soft voice as you held out your right hand.

“Natasha, Natasha Romanoff.” She replied, her voice was husky which made her all the more attractive to you. But her tone that came along with her voice gave you a feeling she didn’t like you. 

She took your hand in her glove cladded hands before she swiftly turned around and started walking down the hall, the action surprising you before you immediately started walking by her side.

You snuck side glances here and there while on the way to your quarters, she had a cute button nose with plump lips. But what caught your attention the most was her slightly pinched together eyebrows and clenched jaw. 

That sold it for you, even if you weren’t able to read mind, you could tell she didn’t like you. At all. The two of you made it to an elevator and boarded it, your mind soon travelled to Lucifer and wondered how he was holding up. 

But that thought soon disappears as Natasha breaks the silence between you two. 

“Listen, I don’t know where the hell you or your brother came from but don’t expect anything from me or the team, you aren’t here to be buddies with us. Just stay out of the way.” She turned to you, her eyes narrowed as her face contorted into a slight snarl.

Your jaw instantly clenches while you keep your eyes on your reflection on the elevator doors. You take a slow breath as you close your eyes, your jaw slowly relaxing as you try to keep your cool. 

“Alright.” You mumble, well damn, there goes the chance of trying to make a friend in this cruel world. You always wondered why everybody recoiled so far from you and your brother the moment they find out you truly are. Would there ever be people who would accept you? 

————♡————

You were stood in the middle of the room, examining the area of space. It was spacious, incredibly at that, you knew Tony would spent tons of thousands on room upgrades just so he could feel luxurious. 

Had you gotten to know him after that interaction with Natasha, oh yeah. Tony was exactly like you, but a male version, no offense to Lucifer. Lucifer was similar to you but he had 

aspects that you were deeply happy you didn’t have.

You honestly were disappointed that the redhead was so hostile with you, you and Lucifer just wanted a tiny get away from LA. You shrugged it off, you couldn’t be friends with everybody, it’s bound to have a few people disliking you. 

A sharp knock echoed throughout the room, making you whirl around towards the door with your eyebrows pinched together. You slowly waltz to the door as you wondered who would be at your door.

You swung the door open and to your dismay, it had been Natasha. Her hand was still raised before it quickly shot down to rest at her side, her face was still void of any emotion as you stare through her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you need, Natasha?” She blinks as her arms crossed over her chest as she kept heavy eye contact with you with her emerald gaze.

“We’re testing your abilities, get ready and meet me in the training room in 5.” Blunt. That was real blunt. Natasha leaned onto your doorframe, putting her weight in it as she waits. You assume she isn’t going to leave so you walk back into your room, grab your phone and walk past her.

“You aren’t going to change?” She asked, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at you as she turned her head to glance at you.

“I wasn’t able to bring any clothes, was just planning to buy some tomorrow with Lucifer.” She hummed in response before standing up straight and shuts your door. 

“You mind leading me to the training room?” You hold out your arm to let her pass by you before you started walking right behind her. She huffs but stays quiet as she walks down the halls she practically memorized like the back of her hand.

The walk on the way to the training room was unbelievably quiet, to the point your footsteps could be considered the loudest.  Once the two of you enter through the doors of the room, straight away you notice Lucifer with Steve. 

You roll your eyes as a smile breaks its way onto your face, you could tell Lucifer was pulling his punches, afraid to hurt the American boy. Lucifer and you were powerful beings, but it was hilarious to see him try and hold back. 

But deep inside you knew it was because you both never hurt anybody other than those who deserved it. You shake that thought from your head as you walk towards the benches, opting to wrap your hands just in case, also to pass time.

You heard shuffling next to you on the bench as you felt a thigh press against yours. Looking up from your hands, you see Lucifer barely breaking a sweat as he drink from his water bottle.

“When are you planning to tell them that you’re pulling your punches, Luci?” You whisper as you turn your head slightly to get a glimpse of his face, a smirk forming on your face.

“If you have a problem with me pulling them, why don’t you train with me?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he tossed his water bottled from one hand to the other. 

His voice happened to be loud enough for a few other members to hear, making you subtly kick his foot at his comment. “Fine, get in the ring.” You shrug, standing up from the bench as you stepped your way to the ring.

Standing up straight in the ring, you let your mind wander as you disassociated yourself from the stares of the other members. You take a deep breath, trying to get yourself in the zone and relaxed.

Your eyes shot open as your ears perked up once you heard Lucifer hop into the ring, a smile gracing itself on your face as you followed his movements. 

You both circled each other around the ring as the crowd around you both grew. From the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha staring at you both, her attention caught as she wondered what would be the results.

Your eyes narrowed, completely zoned in on Lucifer, deciding you should go for the first punch. You smirk as you sped behind him, kicking him from under his feet as he catches himself. 

He reeled back his fist for a right hook while you were still knelt on the mat, until you fell back onto your back as you kicked your legs up, kicking his jaw in the process as you flipped away from him, regaining your balance.

You felt a little bad, you really did, so you patiently waited a minute before he swung once more. He faked a jab as her proceeded to kick you in the side, sending you back a step before you lunged at him. 

You quickly wrapped your legs around his torso as you held him a tight headlock. Feeling him starting to sway, you loosened your grip as you switched your positions before you feel, resulting with you on your back as his full weight fell on top of you, the jewel falling out of your pocket.

“Get the hell off of me you big ogre.” You grunted, the impact leaving you breathless as you pushed him off you, quickly grabbing the jewel from off the mat. You immediately left the ring to take a swig of your water, your eyes full of amusement at the shock of your new teammates. 

Your gaze accidentally falls on Natasha as you admiring, wait admiring, were you really admiring or just looking? You couldn’t really tell the difference. 

Natasha was in a heated conversation with Clint and Steve, your eyebrows pinched together tightly the longer you stared. Natasha seemed pissed, was it because of your training session with Lucifer? It couldn’t have. But her next words caught your attention.

“I don’t give a fuck, Steve. I don’t understand why Fury just let them on the team without a fight, they’re dangerous.“ She hissed at Steve, her fists clenching and relaxing as you can see the crescent shapes starting to form on her palms.

“He recruited them with the same motive as us, Nat. He wants them to improve and reflect on themselves. Neither of us know what they did or seen, but we shouldn’t judge them based off of their past mistakes.” Clint butt in, his tone firm but still soft, wanting Natasha to understand him.

“But we still don’t know if they’ll be a danger to the city, Clint. For all we know, they could just fly off and blow up the damn city from under us.” 

Your teeth grind together as your jaw clenches tightly, trying your hardest to not react. The urge to retort back with a petty comment is strong, but you promised yourself that’d this be a good vacation.

“That’s enough.” Steve growls, before he turns away from the best friends and walks off towards the weights. Natasha was shell shocked, she froze for a moment before her face hardens once more. Her eyes drifting over to you as she met your gaze.

She was expecting the same irises that held an unspeakable kindness within them to be looking back at her, but she felt her heart drop when she saw your narrowed gaze. Why did her stomach drop, had you heard her? Why would she care if you’d heard her, she wanted you to hear, right? 

Her eyes flickering between your features, silently analyzing you. Your lip was slightly pulled up in a small snarl as your eyebrows were tightly stitched together, your eyes were void of the kindness she once saw. 

Your eyes held many emotions she couldn’t decipher, but what she did know was that you were hurt and deeply pissed off. She saw you roll your eyes before you turned your back to her, setting your steps towards the door. 

Her mouth opened to attempt to call out to you, but she instantly closed it, the attempt futile as you were already out the door. Why was she going to call out to you? You were dangerous and proved that point during training. She sat down on a nearby bench as she slouched, rubbing her temples. Unbeknownst to her, you weren’t the only one who heard the commotion.

————♡————

Here you were, perched on the rooftop with your wings fluttering in the wind behind you, watching the sunset. It had been a few hours after you stormed out the training room, you didn’t spend much time reflecting on it. You simply pushed it to the back of your mind as you gazed out towards the city.

To be frank, you were lying your ass off. It wasn’t simple at all, not that her words weren’t something you were used to. It was a normal occurrence for you and Lucifer, but it hurt when it came from somebody you just wanted to be friends with. 

You couldn’t help but feel incredibly discriminated, who was she to start claiming that you and your brother were dangers to the city? Then what would she consider Banner? 

He was a big green ogre with insane anger issues, he tears up city buildings and endangered many citizens. You and Lucifer weren’t even close to that, you both may have killed people but in your defense, they were terrible people.

You and Lucifer never went after innocent individuals, it was like crossing a big boundary. The two of you killed people who bound to get punished, mass murderers, rapists, anything that had a victim, you both dealt with suspect. 

It was relieving when you both changed your ways, you loved scaring people into jail, it humored you. You and Lucifer were monsters, you understood that. What else would people consider a being with wings and horns? Definitely not a human.

You sighed, just now realizing the impact of Natasha’s words on you. Deny it all you want, deep down, you knew that her words triggered something in you. 

You were snapped out of your daze when you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you, not reacting when you felt the individual sit next to you, pressing their shoulder against yours.

“How you holdin’ up, Y/n/n?” Your eyes travel to Tony’s at the nickname, you had met him just yesterday and now he was on nickname basis? Crazy. 

“Alright, just needed fresh air.” You lied, your gaze slowly falling back onto the scenery in front of you, it wasn’t everyday where you could get a view like this.

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You have a great poker face but I can see right through it. You thinkin’ about what Natasha said?” It was like he read your mind, the thought making you huff out a laugh. You lick your lips in thought before replying to him.

“Yeah, I mean it just wasn’t necessary. Clint was right, Fury wanted us both to take the chance to make ourselves something more than what we were made as. Just like the rest of you.” 

You sigh, the thought of you and Lucifer as children pushing itself to the front of your mind, the memory of being cast out of heaven, your only home. The tears forming in the corners of your eyes, obstructing your vision slightly before you blink them away. 

“Don’t let it get to you, she’s just being defensive. She’s not so used to new members, it takes her decades before she even becomes nice to them.”

 He attempts to console you, reaching over your wings to grasp at your shoulders, rubbing them as he pulled you into him. 

You hum in response, the breathtaking sunset comforting you alongside Tony. You appreciated him, even if you had met him yesterday, he knew what was going on in your head immediately.

Unbeknownst to you two, a certain redhead stood at the door of the rooftop, originally looking for Tony to take a look at her widow bites. The guilt in gnawed at her as the sight in front of her practically made her want to be the one hugging you.

She was also thinking of ways to attempt to apologize to you, she wasn’t aware that you had overheard her words. She looked down at the widow bites in her hand before turning towards the door once more, wanting you two to have your moment.

————♡————

“What the fuck, Romanoff! What is your fucking problem!” Tony stormed in the room, his booming footsteps going straight towards Natasha as he yells out.

“What is your problem, Tony? The fuck did I do?” She shot up from her seat on the couch, stalking towards Tony.

“What bothers you so much about the siblings that you have to go out and make them seem unwelcome!” 

“Tony-“ “No! Let me fucking speak, Romanoff.” He cut her off as he walked up closer to her, his jaw tightly clenched to the point you can hear his teeth grinding.

“You had go out and ruin shit for them, especially Y/n. Who are you to tell her to stay out of our way? She’s new!!” He growled as he harshly jabbed a finger into her shoulder, pushing her back slightly.

“And it’s not up to you whenever Fury picks a new recruit because guess what, he knows their potential better than us. He studies them and their abilities, and if you don’t trust Fury with that, then you’re out of your goddamn mind.” 

Tony was seething, his face turning a shade of red as his finger on Natasha’s shoulder grew in pressure. His jaw visibly clenched as his eyes are narrowed at Natasha.

“I don’t understand why you’re so hostile towards them when we were once like them too. Enemies left and right of us and nowhere to go, we were all considered monsters. So I suggest you take your ass over to them and apologize.” 

Tony hissed, his tone lowering slightly but still enough to get his point across, before he drops his hand from her. He gave her one last look before storming off to his lab, presumably to tinker with his suits out of frustration.

Natasha was still stood there in shock, her eyes wide open as she was frozen. Had she really fucked up that bad? She ran a hand over her face before running off and asking FRIDAY for your location.

Hearing that you could be found in the training room, Natasha practically sprinted there. Her thoughts were racing as she was thinking of words, any words to apologize. 

She never wanted to act like that, if only she was able to actually communicate how she actually felt. She soon arrived at the doors of the training room, taking a deep breath as she swiftly opened the glass door.

There you stood, your wings folded as you used your telekinesis to throw spears into a very mangled target. Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way towards you, putting distance between you two incase you sent a spear towards her.

“Y/n?” She called out to you, her tone softer than you’ve ever heard it as you threw your last spear into the target, before turning your head slightly an action that meant you heard her.

“Listen, I know what I said was incredibly uncalled for. You and Lucifer are new and I shouldn’t have just blew up like that, especially when I don’t know anything about you two.”

You stayed silent, your eyes staring into the destroyed bullseye of the target as you listened. You wanted her to say whatever she wanted to say before you spoke.

“I had no right to call you dangerous, especially when every single one of us here is dangerous too. I shouldn’t have blamed Fury for recruiting you two when he knows more about you than I do, he knows all the good you did when I don��t.” 

Natasha practically rambles as she ran a hand through her hair, looking at your face for any emotion, anything that could help her determine your thoughts. She sighed as she continued once more. 

“I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone straight to judging you.” Her voice hushing down into a whisper as she looks away from you in shame.

That’s when you finally move your gaze towards her, your eyes scanning through her body language as you process her words. Her eyes held a genuine look in them.

“But what if that doesn’t stop you from judging my past mistakes.” You hissed. 

“You were so quick to jump the gun and be defensive, and I understood that, but calling me dangerous? You have a whole ogre on this team.” You deadpanned as you stare straight through her, her eyes widening a fraction as her gaze snaps towards you.

“It’s just how I am, its always been hard for me to trust people so quick. I never meant to put you down, I just got so grown to this family that I never expected anything new.” 

She whispered, this was a total change to you. Her voice and eyes held a venerability that you once saw in yourself, you crack your knuckles as you drown yourself into your thoughts. 

“You’re a bitch, you know that.” You say as you look back up to Natasha, your gaze is sharper than a knife. You see Natasha recoil slightly as she turns her head away from you.

Sighing, you step forward with a quiet step before pulling her into your embrace, one hand resting on her waist while the other combs through her hair. Your wings acting like a second pair of arms as they enclose around the both of you.

“You’re okay. I forgive you.” You whisper as you felt her bury her head deeper in the juncture of your neck as her hold on your tightens a fraction.

[softspiderling]

✦ . * ocean blue eyes pt. VI | r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

author’s note: introducing yn’s finsta this time🤭 also a little spice? idk you tell me. anyways @zyafics and @ghostofwriting this is for you

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

liked by youruser, rafenjj, rafe247 and 1.311 others

rafeupdates Rafe at a LOEWE event with a fan

view all 219 comments

rafescameron god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

rafeontopofme Alexa play that should be me by justin bieber

cameronsbby ummmm yn what are you doing here

➞ ynsunshine omg i thought i was seeing things

➞ jjsandrafes ??

➞ rafesgf wdym??

↳ cameronsbby she liked this post👀

↳ rafesgf HUH

↳ ynsunshine SHE UNLIKED IT AGAIN HELP WHAT

↳ kelleigh_leclerc thats crazy😭

↳ raferaferafe @.youruser explain yourself

↳ jjsandrafes NOT U TAGGING HER

rafe247 he looks so babey for a change

rafeonmymind i’ve always wanted to go wherever rafe went

liked by sarbear, jomby, topster and 129 others

nothisisyn mentally i’m here

view all 89 comments

sarbear aren’t you supposed to go into the interview like any second?

➞ nothisisyn what? no. what? no.

papajay if u mess up jimmy fallon i’ll never forgive u

➞ nothisisyn shut up, who asked you

↳ papajay feisty

↳ jomby 🤨

liked by youruser, rafe, jimmyfallon and 98.361 others

fallontonight @.youruser is here to perform her hit single “sunburn”, share her feelings about reaching 1 billion streams on spotify and what it’s like living in Chicago

view all 342 comments

youruser thanks for having me💙

ynalways I knew it

ynsunshine god she ate and she knew it

jimmyfallon such a humble guest

➞ youruser such a good host!!’

whationlylistentoyn she’s doing so much promo what is going on?🤨

➞ sunburninmiami new album???? SINGLE??? SONG???

obsessedwithyn this rafe guy is EVERYWHERE

liked by raferaferafe, raferforlifer, cameronz and 2.941 others

rafeupdates Rafe recently at a diner with family and friends in New York

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rafe247 okay that’s sarah but who’s “friends”👀

rafesgf RAFE AND SARAH ARE SITTING NEXT TO EACH OTHER BUT WHO’S SITTING ACROSS FROM THEM

cameronsbaby this pic looks so sneaky😭

➞ rafeonmymind right like they can’t even eat in peace😭

raferforlyfer guys chill it’s probably like yn or john b, they were all just in New York for yn’s show

jjsandrafes oh to be on a fly on that wall

onlyrafes i wish i could randomly meet rafe at a diner ffs

ynsbaby my worlds are colliding if it’s really yn🥹

➞ jessicascorner they have been colliding for a while😭

↳ rafesgf HUH WDYM BY THAT

↳ jessicascorner i mean that sarah, rafe’s sister, has been yn’s guitarist for a while now so the world’s been colliding

➞ ynonly they’re so mother and father

↳ rafesgf are they dating????

↳ ynonly not as far as i know

────────────

Sarah’s phone:

liked by youruser, loewe, cleogriffith and 1.941.103 others

rafe LOEWE on my mind

view all 11.038 comments

kelleigh_leclerc omg the sparkly coat

➞ rafeslegacy it’s called fashion baby, look it up

cleogriffith I like it, Picasso

loewe Model material

❤️ liked by youruser

➞ raferforlyfer is loewe’s insta account run by a gen z’ler?😭

sarahcam looks good ig

cameronsbaby he looks so good😫😫😫

rafesgf Rafe in his active era

liked by youruser, loewe, sarahcam and 842.917 others

cleogriffith had the best time at loewe’s

view all 2.841 comments

youruser im in love

➞ cleogriffith 🤭

sarahcam AAAHHHH!!!!❤️

❤️ liked by cleogriffith

kiecarerra wow🤩

❤️ liked by cleogriffith

hereformisscleo weird way to propose but yes

loewe absolutely stunning!

➞ cleogriffith 🤍

obsessedwitchu imagine looking like that

popeheywardphotography my baby!!!❤️

➞ cleogriffith ily❤️

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: 100 points for the person who guesses what’s going on with JJ

[makingqueerhistory]

Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.