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fairyysoup · 2 years ago

Text

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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hello-gloomy · 1 month ago

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Hello idk if you're taking requests right now or not. If you are, could I get a xeno or stanley one. You can decide what you wanna write about. THANK YOU!!!

Initially I was gonna do some horny shit for this but decided on somin cute instead and perfect timing for Valentines Day too! (Maybe next time ;p)

Also I hope u don't mind I did this as a poly I couldn't choose one or the other.

-------------------

Passenger plane

XenoStan x Fem!Reader

-------------------

Description: Our favorite doctor and soldier have a special day marked down on the calendar and head to the coast to see if it is genuinely the day they hope it is. A few of their coworkers tag along to see what the fuss is about.

Warnings: Mild angst, kissing, touching, maybe OOC, poly relationship, cursing, religion jokes, dark humor, slight mention of violence.

A/N: Man, this idea kept me awake, so now I'm writing this with an energy drink and a macaroon for breakfast.

Words: 1,404

-------------------

"And just where do the two of you think you're going?" Gen stops Stanley and Xeno with his line of questioning. The men in question stop way down the hall, let, letting the split-haired catch up to them.

"Out to the coast," Xeno told him curtly while Stanley sighed through his nose at Gen's noseyness.

"Without supervision?"

"You're more than welcome to join us." Xeno offered while Stanley walked ahead; Gen shrugged his arms and decided to follow. While walking to their destination, Senku, Chrome, Kohaku, and Ukyo somehow managed to tag along with a little complaint from the original two traversers of the trip. Walking along the natural path to the long coastline, Stanley continued watching the sky while Xeno conversed with his fellow scientists. Xeno took notice of his companion's subtle anxiousness and strayed away from his group to go over to the soldier.

"Hey," he started by bumping Stanley's shoulder, and he returned the gesture by grabbing the doctor's hand.

"Hey, yourself."

"She'll be there, " he told the taller man quietly, rubbing his thumb over his partner's enclosed hand. Stanley nodded while blowing out some smoke. When they arrived at the beach, the group had quieted down and was waiting for something. Finally, one of the younger members decided to break the silence.

"So, Uh, what are we here for exactly?" Chrome asked while glancing around the empty beach. Xeno and Stanley looked at each other before Xeno decided to answer his question.

"Today is an important occasion for us, " he told the boy, with nothing else to add to his unhelpful answer. Senku rolled his eyes and started walking closer to the water. Stanley went to watch the skies again, and some of the others followed suit. Ukyo perked up and looked in a specific direction.

"Another plane?"

"If we get invaded, I might just eriouslysay commit murder." Gen huffed out. A lovely white and silver plane started to descend from the clouds, lowering closer to the water and beginning to slow down as it hit the water, gliding until it was at the land. Not entirely stopped yet, the cockpit bursts open, and a person hops out of the still-landing plane, running straight toward the group. You rip off your goggles, and they crash to the ground while you're still running to the two men you haven't seen in such a long time; your eyes start to blur from the tears, but through the blurriness, from your eyes, you make out Stanley holding his arms open and outwards to you. Just a few steps away from him, you launch into his arms with a call of his and Xeno's names; he catches you in his arms, giving you a spin to balance out the rest of the motion you hit his body with. He drops you to the land, and your laughter fills the air, and pure happiness radiates off of you; when Stan lets go of you, you crush Xeno in a hug next, almost knocking him off his feet; he pets your hair and kisses your forehead affectionately.

"A dangerously elegant landing, my darling." Xeno teases while Stanley comes over to clap you on the back in agreement. You can already guess the fussing he'll give you later at how you could have potentially hurt yourself.

"Will someone explain?" Gen asks as he speaks for the rest of the speechless group. Senku and Chrome bolt over to check out the plane you had landed, much more interested in that than you.

"She went out two and a half years earlier to scout overseas for other Stone world survivors." Stanley begins to explain while you press your head against his back, taking the smell of your blonde lover in.

"We had contact with her at the start of her trip but lost contact a few months later. She told us an estimated time she would return; that was all we had left from her before all communications were gone for the next year and a half." While you move from behind Stanley, Xeno looks over the new people who joined your group in your absence. Stanley gives a half-interested introduction to everyone present; said group gives you a warm greeting, which you return equally as kind.

"And those to crack heads over there are Chrome and Senku." Stanley finishes. You all turn to look at the mentioned idiots, and your heart jumps at them, peeking inside your air-born home.

"Don't break anything!" You shout to them as you rush to the plane; the rest of the group follows. You get barraged with questions about the plane, how far you traveled, and if you met anyone else.

"I met a bunch of religious fanatics while in the north," You tell them while digging around and pulling out a battered bible as proof.

"They were going on about the 'second coming of Jesus' or something like that. They got pissed when I told them it was probably just aliens." You give Chrome the book, he flips a few pages, and his face cringes after the first few. You dig deeper through your things and pull out a few other things.

"They tried burning me too; I set them on fire first, though." You tell them proudly, getting a few horrified looks from the newer members but a nod from Stanley at you striking them first.

"Funny enough, while I was in Europe, some of the gothic architecture from our time was still in pretty good shape." You hand Senku a rock from some of the fallen pieces of the structure you mentioned.

"I also found a second version of the Silk Roads." You pull out multiple articles of clothing, jewelry, and even books. You pull out a wrapped item, hand it to Stanley, and tell him to open it later.

"Oh! There was a group of people I ran into that found out how to un-petrify people." You say with triumph, but your face screws up when no one seems all that impressed.

"Hate to break it to ya, but we already beat you to it," Senku tells you with a smirk, and your face drops.

"Nitric acid."

"Wow, so there's more than one method." Your smile returns, and everyone else drops their smiles at your statement.

"They used sodium nitrate to break the stone." You take out a stoned bird and a small vile, pour the liquid on the bird, and wait a few minutes before the cracking starts. Everyone watches as the bird flies away, small pieces of stone left in place of the once immobile bird.

-------

"We can finish discussing your miraculous adventures back at home." Xeno decides for everyone: Stanley and Ukyo help you with your bags while leaving your plane for later retrieval; Senku returns to pestering Xeno for more details on the aircraft while you stick close to Stanley and admire Xeno's newfound laxness.

You are now caught up on everything and, later in the evening, return to your shared home with your lovers; the two men sit on the shared bed, conversing quietly while watching you shoot around the room, letting yourself adjust to your home again. When finished, you come over with Xeno's gift and tell Stanley he can open his. They both open their gifts: Stanley gets a beautiful crystal knife, and Xeno gets a wonderfully crafted gramophone with a vinyl to go along with it.

"It's just a duet of a violin and a piano. Sorry, I couldn't get anything more modern." You tell him as you mess with your nails; he tilts your face upwards, caressing along your jaw before touching your foreheads together. Stanley lies backward against the pillows while doing tricks with his new weapon.

"It's pleasant, my dear, and a remarkable gift from you." He whispers to you. He sets the record up before setting it down on the side table and moves you to lay between him in Stanley. They smoosh you in close and start to pet you while the music plays in the background. You warm up from their touches, and they shift to add kisses to the mix, making you murmur shyly in response.

"You gave us such nice gifts; allow us to return the favor," Stanley whispers in your ear before biting your neck. You were immensely happy to be home with the two dear people you love the most.

#x reader #dr stone gen #dr stone senku #dr xeno #dr. stone #dr stone #dr stone x you #dr stone x reader #dr xeno x reader #dr stone stanley #stanxeno #stanley snyder x reader #xeno houston x reader #xeno x reader #dr stone xeno #xenostan

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dilf-c0nn0isseur · 7 months ago

Note

I just know Logan would be a rock/metal type of guy so since i watched the x-men movies and the new deadpool&wolverine movie I just can't get *Closer by Nine Inch Nails* out of my headddd!!!! I think it fits him so much, do you think you can write something that's close to the meaning of this song 😭?

I LOVE this song!! hope this captures it like i wanted it to

Closer - logan howlett x fem!reader 18+ MDNI

Logan is an animal in bed. Sex with him is primal; nail scratching, biting, growling as he fucks your cunt so hard that the line between pleasure and pain is blurred.

He's got you on your hands and knees, using one strong hand to push your face down into the mattress so that your ass is arched up in the air for him. The snap of his hips against your skin stings, but you want more.

"Logan I want you- fuck!- closer," you mewl beneath him, interrupting your own plea as he slams into you from behind.

He leans down, his hard, toned chest pressing against your back. You can feel the sweat from his body on yours. His face is now on your shoulder, his lips brushing your ear as he continues his desecration of your pussy.

"Just gonna let me violate you like this, Bub?"

His words are confrontational, demeaning. They only fuel the flame inside of your stomach and make you clench tightly around him. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes as Logan drills into you, and you cry out his name. He pulls your hair to the side and connects his lips to your neck, sinking his teeth into the flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave his mark on you. He's got a claim on you and wants everyone to know it.

He can sense your nearing orgasm and somehow manages to pick up his pace, knowing your climax will urge his own.

"I'm gonna fucking cum Logan, holy shit!," you cry out, threatening to rip the sheets you have clenched in your fists. He feels you tighten around him, your cum seeping out around his cock as you finish. This heightens his animalistic urge and he pushes deeper inside of you, wanting to release every last drop of his load inside of you.

"Gonna fill this tight little pussy up," he grunts while straightening back up, one hand pressing against your back to make sure you don't go anywhere while the other grabs a handful of your ass. There's sure to be a bright red print of his hand in its wake. Finally, he bursts inside of you, and you feel his thick cum coat the inside of your walls white. You feel almost impossibly full of him. The man was a fucking animal, and you loved it.

. . .

a/n: can y'all tell I'm ovulating

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #x men wolverine #logan howlett smut #wolverine x you #wolverine #logan howlett fanfiction #james logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #wolverine smut

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one-piece-aus · 7 months ago

Text

Whumptober Day 24

Paulie x Reader

"[Y/N]! THAT DRESS IS WAY TOO SHORT! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!"

"Calm down, Paulie." You roll your eyes and adjust your hold on your clipboard. "It's right at my knees, no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal! This is a work zone and you're distracting the men here!" Paulie scolded with flustered red colouring his face.

Ah, such is the life of a lady working in Dock 1. You were part of the inventory keepers, noting when supplies arrived and where they'd go. Paulie the shipwright gambler, kept getting flustered over every little thing about your appearance when you two ran into each other during the same shift. At first, it bothered you, and if it weren't for Paulie seeming to be one of Iceburg's favourites, you would've tried drowning him. Then, someway, somehow, he grew on you.

"Oh pleasure, I won't be distracting anyone." You wave your pen around dismissively. "Besides I even got bending down covered, I'm wearing shorts underneath, see."

You tease him and lift the hem of your dress to show him your black shorts. Paulie's nose exploded blood out, steam flying from his face. Giggling, you drop your dress' hem back down.

"I think you broke him, [Y/n]," Kaku commented, walking up to you.

"He'll be fine. Whatcha need?" You turn to your other co-worker.

"New shipment came from the West Blue," Kaku informed you, leaning closer to add, "Devil Water Pose."

Devil Water Pose... Devil Wanted Poster...

Looks like another assignment has been added, which means your time at Water 7 is closing. Who knew Nico Robin would come here...

"Got it." You nod, keeping your smile. Kaku tips his hat and leaves to help other workers.

"What was that about?" Paulie asked, lighting up a cigar and raising a brow at you.

"Oh, Kaku just let me know about some supplies that just came in. I should go mark that." You spin away, finding it hard to face Paulie.

Paulie stares at your back, mildly puzzled. Something felt off, you don't leave in a hurry like that, especially in high heels. Maybe he's just overthinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh, sitting at the bridge near Galley-La, clipboard in hand. Clicking the pen several times, trying to brush away writer's block, you stare at the paper underneath all the pages you stuff into the clip. If only you had more time to write this.

"What got you all bummed out?"

"Ah!" You flipped the papers down to hide the final page. Looking up, you see him. "Paulie, you scared me."

"Sorry," he apologized and leaned back against the railing of the bridge. "You gonna tell me what you were writing?"

"A love letter for you," you tease.

"Don't joke about that!"

You giggled, amused by his flustered state, until you looked back at the clipboard. Your mood goes back down. "I... I am writing a letter, I'm just not sure how to write it."

"Who's it for?" Paulie inquired, puffing out some smoke.

"...Someone I care about, I won't be able to see them for much longer."

"How come?"

"Work reasons," you answered, keeping it vague.

"Shame."

"Yup..." You stare at the water canal, biting back your tongue.

"Why don't you take the day off tomorrow to spend time with them?" Paulie asks.

"He'll be busy."

Paulie grumbles beside you. "What a chump, leaving soon and not bothering to spend time with you."

You giggle at the irony. "I don't blame him, Paulie. It's just how things are." You hear the man huff beside you before you continue. "Besides, he probably doesn't realize I care about him... I... I've been a little distant, you know."

"Shouldn't matter if you've been distant, it matters if he cares about you. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time." Paulie put out his cigar. You hum, acknowledging his words, even if your dilemma is different. A hand rests on your shoulder, you glance at Paulie. "If means anything, all of us at Galley-La care about you, [Y/n]."

"Thank you, Paulie." You wrap your arms around him, catching Paulie off guard. If things were different, maybe you would've given more than a hug. "Thank you for caring about me."

Paulie halts his emotions, sensing there's more to your story than you're telling him. He returns the hug, not understanding why it feels like you're saying goodbye.

And he won't know, until he reads your letter after you're gone.

Tags: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

#whumptober2023 #no. 24 #“I've got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”#goodbye note #one piece #whump fanfiction #whump fic #whump writing #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece paulie #paulie x reader #paulie one piece #one piece paulie x reader #water 7 #paulie #no 24 #(i can't believe it took me this long to write a paulie fic)

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mackjlee9 · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! It’s my first time requesting something here, so sorry if it’s weird or if it makes you uncomfortable.

I would like ftm (power bottom) Leon Kennedy with a sub top male reader, also smut if possible.

So reader if fucking Leon gently. Leon has a creamy, soft, wet pussy while reader is breeding him and reader is in love with it.

If it’s possible some feminization where reader calls Leon mommy while sucking his chest.

Thank you! Again if it made you uncomfortable feel free to ignore.

I'm so sorry this took me so long to write :')))) and I apologize for how horrible this turned out to be

FTM!PowerBottom!Leon Kennedy x Sub!Top!Male!Reader [Smut]

Masterlist.

Resident Evil

(M/n) wasn't sure how he should feel at that moment.

It was clear he and his boyfriend, Leon, were gonna go further than just some kisses and touches, and that was the problem right now. He didn't know what to do, he was scared, he felt nervous about disappointing Leon because... Who likes a virgin?

With his mind out of it, (M/n) pulled away from their kiss, his hands fidgeting with the fabric of Leon's shirt, a way to try and calm his anxiety. Of course, the blond male noticed (M/n)'s uneasiness, and he worried, his hands holding his face gently.

"Hey... You alright? Is anything bothering you?" He couldn't find it in himself to speak, so he silently shook his head as a response, "Are you sure?"

And then (M/n) opened his mouth but hesitated for a few seconds, so now Leon knew something was going on, and he tried to be as reassuring as possible.

"It's okay, you can tell me," (M/n) looked down and took a shaky breath in, nibbling his lips nervously as he struggled to find the right words.

"I- uh... I'm- I-..." His stutter made him close his eyes tightly, feeling like an idiot at not being able to speak correctly, grimacing at the sweat he felt on his palms, "Sorry, Leon, it's just... That..."

Leon placed a peck on his lips and gently stroked his face, watching with a small smile how (M/n) opened his eyes, "We don't have to do this now if you don't want to, darling."

"But I do want to, it's just that..." He looked away as he paused, "I'm a virgin, and I... Don't want to disappoint you, love."

Leon couldn't help but chuckle, and (M/n) was sure he was a second away from being kicked out, Leon probably wanted nothing to do with him now that the truth got out. He could cry right that moment, but that would be even worse, so he stayed silent and shifted on the bed, ready to get up and leave as soon as he was told to.

"Well... We can fix that," (M/n) felt as if all thoughts left his mind, did he hear that correctly, or was he delusional all of a sudden? It had to be a joke, "Would you mind if I take control instead?"

Leon made (M/n) look at him, feeling how his face got warm against his palms, and he watched how, at a loss for words, he nodded a few times slowly.

"Alright then..." Leon leaned closer until his lips were gracing (M/n)'s, "Just relax, and let me do everything, darling."

//////

"Okay, you ready?" His voice was quiet, a mere whisper in (M/n)'s ear, his legs on either side of his hips as he straddled him.

(M/n) nodded, his hands holding tightly onto Leon's waist, biting his lips as he felt how his pussy grinded against his cock.

With a light hold, Leon reached between them and held (M/n)'s leaking dick, before easing it inside him, lowering his hips until he was sitting on his lap, feeling how (M/n)'s grip got somehow tighter. He just couldn't help it, Leon's pussy felt so good, fluttering around his cock like that.

Keeping his hold, (M/n) started thrusting his hips up, whining as his whole body trembled under Leon, who was releasing moans and mewls next to his ear, calling his name in a whimper. With gritted teeth, his cock throbbed as his cum started filling Leon's pussy, leaving scratch marks on his skin as he continued riding him, milking his cock and taking all the cum deep inside him.

(M/n)'s eyes rolled into the back of his head, "Fuck..." It was just too much for him, he felt like he was gonna go crazy, "Can I... Can I fuck you, mommy? Can I fill you with my cum?"

Leon whined at how desperate and whiny (M/n)'s voice sounded, he loved it, all he could do was nod, his back arching as that sweet spot inside him was stimulated, his blue eyes getting glossy with tears and his thighs quivering at the pleasure surging through his body.

(M/n) shifted their position around on the bed, pressing his body flush against Leon's, every inch of their skin touching. His thrusts were gentle and deep, savouring the feeling of his wet pussy clenching and twitching around his throbbing cock, gasping at how the friction sent shivers down his whole body, Leon's cunt felt so fucking good and it was driving him insane.

"Oh, fuck- your pussy feels so good, mommy, I love how your tight pussy takes my cock," Leon's hands hold onto (M/n)'s back, leaving scratch marks on his skin, his legs wrapping around his hips to keep him close, the feeling of his pussy being filled by his cock numbing his mind.

Wet kisses and soft bites were placed on Leon's skin, making a path from his neck to his chest, groping his chest and kneading it, leaving sweet kisses on his scars before latching onto his perked nipples, swirling his tongue around them and playing with it.

The movement of his hips came to a halt, keeping his entire length inside Leon, moaning every time his mushy walls clenched and twitched around his cock.

(M/n) kept fucking him, deep and slow, playing with his nipples and hitting his sweet spot over and over again. Leon couldn't believe how good he was being fucked, and (M/n) wasn't doing anything amazing, he was just so eager to please him and he wasn't ashamed to admit how much he loved. He wanted more of him, of his hard cock, of his hot cum, of his soft kisses and sweet words.

Leon wouldn't be surprised if he got infatuated with (M/n) after this, he doubted anyone could make him feel as helpless yet satisfied as he could.

#leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #re x male reader #re x reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #trans leon kennedy #leon kennedy #sub top male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #smut #.mackjlee9 writes

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onsraas · 1 year ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

┊luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader — angst-fluff

summary: although the daughter of aphrodite tries, the feeling of love won't come other than from the person who not only seems oblivious, but also lacks the reciprocation of the love she so wildly desires. but, is that right?

warnings: use of y/n, 1st person, like one cuss word, (some poor writing tbh) — not proofread !!

wc: 1.3k

a/n: hello, I'm back with my take on why an "i love you, too." is more important than a bare "i love you." — also, can you notice the big fat crush I have rn through this? lmao.

ps. reblogs helps a whole lot.

photo credits | masterlist | navigation | request

My chest feels empty with the lack of a heart. I can feel it beating in my chest yet somehow the sense of emptiness remains there as I kiss this boy.

I can't remember his name, I don't even remeber if he said it or not, to be honest. But when his hands reach for my waist I try to help myself from gagging. I don't like the feeling of his hands on me.

Not as much as I like Luke's.

He's never touched me romantically, and yet his hand on my thigh trying to calm me down, his shaking hand in mine looking for comfort, his arms wrapped around me, lifting be from the ground after I told him big news, it all comes back to me before I feel a hand tug me backwards, tearing me away from the stranger I'd been kissing, who I now realise is Mark, a son of Ares.

"What is going on in here?" The voice behind me makes me shiver with recognition.

"What does it look like, dude? Leave." Mark says. He attempts to reach for my arm but I snatch it away.

Before either of them can say anything else, I turn to look at the person behind me: Luke. His face is contorted in an angry frown, glaring at Mark as if he'd just killed a kitten.

"What is it, Luke?" I say, my voice sounds annoyed, but although I'm looking at Luke, is not him whom I'm annoyed at. It's me. The fact that I had been imagining Luke kissing me while kissing someone else makes me think I'm stupid enough to not realize the truth: it's never gonna happen.

Luke's gaze softens when he looks at me, but still keeping the look of superiority. "You shouldn't be here. It's dark and you're very deep into the woods." He pauses and looks at me, but whatever he's looking for he doesn't find it. "We should get back."

"Okay," I agree. I think both of them were expecting me to put more of a fight because they look at me in confusion...or anger on Mark's side could be.

I pay Mark's insults no mind as I follow the path that will lead us back to the camp, Luke beside me.

Eventually we stop hearing Mark altogether and Luke finally says something. "Not a good one, huh?"

I shrug. My heart is overwhelmed with the sense of dread and the need to tear it out of my chest becomes more powerful with each step.

Why do I feel like this is my mother is the goddess of love? Why do I feel like this when everyone fights to get the bare minimum from me: a child of Aphrodite?

Could it be because the only person whom I really want looks at me with a shine that lacks of love?

Because every night I go to sleep I think about the stars and how they are my only companion when I see him look at someone else with the look I want all for myself.

I think about the stars whispering in my ear how I'm still dumb enough to not give up on the idea. What they don't realize, though, is that he's the one not letting me go.

He doesn't know my heart is his but still he won't drop it for it to break completely.

"Hey," Luke's hand on my shoulder stops me on my track, making me flinch a little. "What is going on?" His voice makes me want to break down and cry from how soft it is.

He is looking me right in the eye, and I can't help but notice that he's already invading my personal space with his closeness. "Nothing is going on, okay? Can we just...walk in silence?"

"No, we can't." I don't think he's ever talked to me this serious. "Not until you stop pushing me away."

I'm dumbfounded. "Wait, what?" My voice sounds weird to my own ears. "What are you talking about? I'm not pushing you away, Luke."

"Yes, you are, y/n, and you've been for the last year." His eyes reflect nothing but hurt, probably remembering how this last year has gone for both of us. "You think I don't realise? You think I don't realise how you do anything to stay away from me? And my only question is: why?"

He is closer to me than he's ever been and I can only focus on his intense blue eyes staring back at me. "That is none of your bussiness." I somehow get it out, still my voice sound breathier than normal.

I could get it out now, try to make the damage the least painful as possible, but my selfish heart tells me I can't make it better if a lose him.

"I think it is. Now, either you say it, or I'm going to say it myself." Still, I don't say a word. He leans impossibly closer, and my breath hitches when I feel his hand slightly touching mine, as if waiting for and invitation.

Fuck it. "You think you know, everything about me, Luke, well you don't. The answer to your question is the only thing you should have noticed and it's yet the only thing you see to have no clue about. The only reason I've been avoiding you, and doing anything to stay away from you is because..." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "It is because I love you, Luke. I have loved you from the very moment I met you all those years ago."

Luke looks at me as if a just grew a third head. Yet, somehow, I can for the first time feel my heart.

"Why were you kissing mark then?" He asks.

I scoff. "None of them matter, I've only ever done it because I wanted to stay away from you, Luke."

"Away from me? Why would you wanna make that?"

Is he serious? "You're just making fun of me at this point." I attempt to leave, but I fail when Luke grabs my arm, keeping me from leaving.

"I would never make fun of you." His voice is soft as silk. "I truly want to know."

I sigh. "I know you don't feel the same, Luke. That's okay. Just...please, don't become a stranger."

"I would never." He takes my hand in his, bringing us closer, or noses touching. I could lean a little and our lips would touch, but I won't unless he asks me to. "Can I kiss you now?"

When people said they felt butterflies I'd never undestood. Sure, I'd felt nervous, yet the feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach right now was so strong I wanted to vomit. I decide to nod instead.

His lips are soft in mine. One of my hands is occupied in his, while the other moves to wrap around his neck.

The kiss is sweet at first, two people showing affection through the art of kissing. But when Luke's tongue gets access inside my mouth I feel like we are both making up for all the times we wanted to do it but couldn't, for all the years of waiting, and for the time we need to catch up.

His hand leaves mine only to get bothe his hands in my waist, tugging me closer to him, closing any possible gap there could be between our bodies.

His hands are everywhere in my body and when his hands find the bare skin underneath my shirt I break the kiss, searching for his eyes. "Was that too fast?" He asks with pure panic.

I smile and shake my head before I wrap my arms around him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, while he does the same.

"I love you, too." He says leaving a soft kiss in my neck.

And there a realise that the emptiness is long gone.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellas x reader fanfic #fanfic #Luke castellano x Aphrodite!reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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littlexscarletxwitch · 1 year ago

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲!

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, r's birthday party organised by flo herself (lol), flo and r being sooo in love (i want what they have), surprise birthday party, billieee

warning(s): r having a 'rough' childhood (not much details tho), mentions of anxiety and stress and overthinking (?), grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.9 k

requested?: yes, you can find the request right here

note: NONNIE, I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG. I hope you had an amazing birthday, full of joy. And I also hope that you like this, as much as a loved writing your request. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you all enjoy, happy reading, and happy birthday or very merry unbirthday! Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

The rain was pouring, your coffee was growing cold and your eyes were getting heavier by the second, but you just couldn't take your eyes off of your book.

"Are you done yet?" she complained.

"Almost," she huffed at your response, the same answer she had been getting the last 30 minutes.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," she wanted to sound annoyed at you but she just couldn’t.

"I swear I'm almost done," you chuckled.

"You know what? I'm just gonna—" she said as she took the book off of your hands.

"I wasn't done," you scoffed.

"And now I'm gonna get over here," she sat on your lap.

You smiled at her, impossible for you to stay ‘mad’ at her for more than just a few seconds.

"Hi."

She pecked your lips, the simple action sending a shiver up your spine even though it wasn't the first time that she did it.

She went to peck your lips once again, but this time your lips captured hers, while your hands at her hips pushed her closer to your body. Florence moaned into your lips as she felt her chest being pushed against yours. Your soft warm hands slowly crawled around her back, setting her skin on fire. Your book long forgotten.

“Wait,” she said, almost breathless. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, your lips moving to the soft skin on her neck.

She threw her head back, giving you more access, trying to hold back her moans and focus on what she wanted to tell you.

“I’m serious, Y/n.”

“I’m listening,” you mumbled into her skin.

“Your birthday’s coming up,” she breathed out.

The mention of your birthday made you stop for half a second, but then you gathered yourself up, shrugged all the memories away and decided to focus on marking Florence’s soft skin. But your small action didn’t go unnoticed by your girlfriend.

“Yeah, it seems so… what about it?” you wanted to kiss her so she could just drop the subject, but you knew she meant well.

Florence’s brows furrowed, it was your birthday for god’s sake, and she felt like it was just her who was excited about that special day.

“Well… I was thinking,” she cupped your cheek with her warm hands, forcing your eyes to meet hers, “we could invite everyone over, maybe I can cook some pizza and we can do karaoke and…,” she sounded so thrilled that it hurt having to cut her off.

“Flor, it’s okay. We don’t have to do any of that,” you grabbed her hands and left a sweet kiss on the back of them. “We can just chill here, order something and watch some films.”

“But it’s your birthday and I wanted—.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

Florence stared at you for a minute, trying to read your thoughts. She figured that your mood changed and your birthday were, somehow, related.

“You don’t want to celebrate your birthday, do you?” she quietly asked, as her fingertips transcend small circles on the back of your hand.

“I mean… I just…” you huffed, clearly annoyed at this whole conversation.

“What is it, babe?”

"I just…" you let out the breath you had been holding onto, blinking the tears away that you hadn't even noticed they were about to spill.

Florence kissed your forehead in an attempt of offering you some comfort, she didn't know that your birthday was a sensible topic for you to talk about. She waited, patiently, for you to talk, giving you time to gather yourself up, and letting you know she was right there for you.

"Back then we didn't have enough money, we weren’t poor but we always were short on it. So a birthday party just wasn’t on our plans, but mum always made sure to cook my favourite and I always had a great time,” you smiled at the memory.

“Y/n…”

"I loved those special meals, but deep down it made me sad. All the kids on my block had all these amazing birthday parties and I just had a family dinner like any other day,” you laughed, but there was not a trace of humour in your tone.

“But I’m grateful for everything my parents did for me, I don’t want to sound ungrateful,” you shook your head, emphasising your words.

“You’re not ungrateful, Y/n. You could never be.”

You breathed in, pushing all the messy emotions away, nodding to her words. “So, I don’t need everyone to come over, or you cooking pizza for everyone or karaoke,” you chuckled.

“But… but you deserve it,” she tried.

“It’s okay, Flo,” you pecked her lips, and a second later you yawed. “Well, I’m going to sleep now,” you wrapped yourself in the soft warm blankets. “Don't stay up late, missy. Love you,” was the last thing you said before finally closing your eyes, leaving Florence with her own thoughts.

The only thought on her mind was that you deserved the happiest of birthdays someone could ever have. She decided that it was up to her to give you the birthday party you could never have had as a child. She didn’t blame your parents for such an arrangement in the past, she understood they did their best with what they were capable of. But she was there now, and she was going to make sure to give you everything you deserved, and the least she could do was to throw you the best birthday party she could ever organise.

She smiled to herself as she watched you sleep, a million ideas rushing to her mind, picturing you with a big smile on your face when the day came.

[…]

It wasn’t easy for her, especially with so little time left for your birthday. But she wasn’t going to give up so easily, not when it was about you. Florence had only two weeks to organise the best birthday party you could possibly have.

The date was already set, the same day as your birthday, which was a Friday, so it was perfect. Given the short time, she had no other alternative than to host the party in your shared home, but it was fine, it was just about right for everyone she had planned to invite over.

Raffie, her little sister, helped her out with the digital invitations and they were already sent, every guest confirming their attendance, which brought a smile to Florence’s face. On the invitation Florence —and Raffie— clarified that everyone should be right on time, so they could be all there when you walk in the door after work and surprise you.

The food was the easiest part of it. She gathered Toby, Arabella and Raffie, and the four of them got to work, and in no time they had that problem solved. Pizzas and sandwiches were made, and were ready to be defrosted as soon as Friday came. And lots of different cakes were ordered, one of them wishing you the happiest of birthdays on top.

Now, what was left was convincing you that she wasn’t up to something. Hiding this little secret was a bit hard for Florence, she wanted to come clean to you, she felt terrible about lying to you about your birthday. But she knew deep down that you would love the surprise. So she did her best and kept her mouth shut. And luckily for the both of you, she managed it pretty well. With some help of Raffie, of course.

[…]

Florence was sweating, even though it was cold outside.

She was getting nervous as the time of your arrival came closer. Everyone that was supposed to be present was already there, which was a good thing that gave Florence some comfort. But she was worried about something else.

“What if she doesn’t like it?”

“Flossie—,” Toby tried but her sister cut him off.

“She didn’t want this,” she shook her head in disapproval of herself. “She told me she wanted something simple.”

“Y/n will love this,” Raffie tried to calm her sister.

“She will hate me, she will definitely hate me after this. I shouldn’t have—,” she cut herself as she heard the breaks of your car outside. A second later Billie barked at her, as if confirming you were there.

Her eyes winded as her heart skipped a beat, which Raffie took notice of. “Hey!” she grabbed her sister by the shoulders. “She is going to love this, I swear. Her mum told me, okay? You are good.”

Raffie’s words sinked into her. Florence took a deep breath, nodding to herself and got the last step of her plan in motion.

“Okay, everyone at your place, please. Y/n’s here,” she said as she moved closer to the front door, turning off all the lights on her way. “Don’t say anything until the lights are on, and remember it’s: Surprise, Y/n. Okay?” she heard everyone humming in agreement. “Okay,” she confirmed to herself, getting into her position, straightening her skirt with her sweaty hands.

She felt Billie right next to her, getting ready to surprise you as well. Sensing her owner’s unstillnes, Billie nudged Florence’s leg, with the tip of her nose, trying to comfort her. Florence smiled at her dog in the darkness, taking in one last breath as she heard you unlocking the door.

“Flo—? What the—?” you said, confused, as you opened the door to only find a darkened home.

Your hand went to turn on the light, but Florence beat you to it.

“Surprise, Y/n!” the loud cheering straddled you, but it also brought the biggest smile to your face and tears to the corner of your eyes.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Florence said excitedly, leaving a kiss on your cheek. Some of her anxiety washed away as she watched you smile, her heartbeat finally beating properly.

In a sudden movement, you grabbed her and brought her into you, hugging her tightly, as if not wanting her to slip off from your arms ever.

“I can’t believe you did this whole thing for me,” you whisper into her ear, as your eyes trailed all over the place, taking in all the details.

There were balloons everywhere in the shade of your favourite colour, some shiny fringe backdrops hanging from the ceiling, big shiny balloons in the shape of your new age number, and most importantly, everyone you cared for was there. Florence even succeeded in bringing your grandma. And your heart became even warmer when you saw Florence’s family as well, her parents, her siblings and their partners and, obviously, granzo Pat.

She pulled away from the hug, much to her dismay, and cupped your cheeks with her warm hands. “Of course, I did, silly,” there was so much love in her eyes, that you swear you could have melted right there. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” you smiled at her.

Billie nudged your leg, wanting to get your attention, and she slowly howled to you, which you took as a ‘happy birthday’.

“Why, thank you, missy moo,” you said as she looked up to you and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Y/n!” you heard your name being called.

“Go,” Florence pushed you forwards. “Everyone wants to say ‘hi’ to you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you smiled at that thought.

Everyone was here for you and only you, you felt like your heart could burst out of your chest from all the happiness you were feeling.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fluff #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’#littlexscarletxwitch's fic

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good-griief · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! I was wondering if I could request for Van Palmer? Something along the lines of the reader coming to terms with their sexuality?

It’s totally cool if you don’t want to write this request lol also kinda might start sending in asks so im gonna claim am emoji -🍾

sorry this took so long but i'm back and able to write again so here u go! this was getting very long so if u guys like it i'll happily make a part two!!<3

You were never a “talkative kid.” You were never one that could spell words like gargantuan or manganimus. You were never helping with your classmates’ homework or told you were exemplary. Your grades were average; A’s and B’s, but nothing exemplary.

Though there was one thing you were exemplary at. One thing that if given the chance to write about, you’d always be given the highest score. One single thing, completely apart from the rest that could get you an award for your writing.

Funnily enough. It was Soccer. You’d gotten an award for writing about soccer.

You always liked Soccer. Ever since you were little. You liked playing with your friends, hanging out with them. You liked the hugs that came after a big win, the friendships, the relationships. You liked the team bonding. You liked the sleepovers and parties. You liked getting close with the best of the girls because you were also one of the best. You liked the small, intimate group you had, and the small, intimate time you spent together.

You liked the times where you would have a sleepover and cuddle with one another. Sleepovers where you would kiss to ‘practice’ for boys. Sleepovers that got you so close you were hugging and leaning on each other all the time, lying your head in each other’s laps.

Sleepovers that somehow dwindled down to you and one other girl by eighth grade. A girl that you’d kiss to practice for boys that didn’t exist. A girl you held hands with at school and took to lunch on weekends with each other’s babysitting money.

A girl that moved away before highschool.

You started freshman year without friends, signing up for soccer tryouts and hoping that would get you somewhere.

You ended up on JV and it seemed the rising sophomore class had already gotten so close that your effort to make friends in soccer proved less than fruitful.

When you played scrimmages against varsity, the group hardly passed to you and kept it within their small circle.

There were two girls, Mari and Akilah, who you got along fine with, but they weren’t close, so you had to talk to one or the other during practice which meant you weren’t close with them either.

That left you in your own little bubble freshman year, floating around. No one really disliked you, but no one knew you either. Not even your own teammates.

Luckily, though, around winter break, you were asked out. You didn’t really know the guy, but Jackie, one of the sophomores in his grade and on the Soccer team, said he was nice.

So you said yes.

And suddenly after a winter break of calling this guy and getting hot chocolate with him, you were in with Jackie… Which meant you were in with Shauna, which meant the ball was passed to you, which meant they started to see how good you were, which meant they started to like you.

“Hey!” Jackie came up to you, Mari, and Akilah after practice.

You’d slowly been getting them closer so the three of you could hang out. You figured you could then start passing to them and get them in with the other girls without a whistle-blow from Coach Scott for changing a play.

“You three wanna come with us? Team bonding?”

“Sure!” You said first, all too enthusiastic and making her chuckle.

“I have to study,” Akilah said.

“Yeah, same,” Mari said, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Have fun, though!”

“Oh, we will!” Jackie looped her arm through yours as you gave your new friends a look. “Come on. You can tell me all about Mark— he’s friends with Jeff, you know?”

“Jeff?”

“My boyfriend.”

“Oh…”

“Oh, good! You brought her!” Nat, another sophomore, said.

“I told you the other two would say no.” Jackie shrugged.

“Still nice to ask everyone,” Lottie, the only one that’d actually introduced herself to you, said. She also gave you everyone else’s name. Which was helpful since they definitely weren’t going to introduce themselves.

“Hey,” except maybe one of them, She was shorter, redheaded, and the goalie. She gave you a sweet smile as she held out her hand. “Have you met everyone?”

You took her warm hand, shaking gently and earning even more of a smile. “Lottie,” you gestured to the brunette with your free hand, “told me about everyone.” She only nodded. “Vanessa? Right?”

“My friends call me Van.” You nodded, giving a small smile as you still mindlessly shook her hand. “You can call me Van,” she added with a smirking laugh, eyes darting to Lottie briefly. She had a feeling she told you her name was Vanessa on purpose.

The brunette was grinning from ear to ear, hands slapping at Nat’s as they both laughed together.

“Van.” You dropped her hand. “I’ll remember that.”

“Oh, I hope so—”

“Leave her alone,” Taissa butted in, laughing. “You can ride with us if you want.”

“Sure.” You agreed, walking next to Van as the group dispersed. “Where are we going?”

“I think Jackie’s,” she said. “She’s been dying to meet you and shit now that you're dating Mark.” You nodded. “Whole team has, really. You know, you’re pretty good?”

“Thanks, I think?” You frowned. “I’ve played since I was, like, eight.” She nodded along. “You guys are great. I mean, you’re the best high school team I've seen— Van, I’ve never seen a better goalie.” She smiled, shaking her head. “No, seriously,” you insisted when she went to object. “You must, like, study every player or something—“

“She does,” Taissa said.

You were glad you were usually on her team during JV scrimmage, or it’d be a challenge to get a goal.

“Insane.” You shook your head. “I can only ever tell if someone’s injured.”

“Oh, really?” Van asked, curious.

“Mhm. It’s pretty easy.” She frowned. “Just check the bench. Works every time.” Taissa stifled a laugh, Van laughing out loud.

“I thought you were serious,” she laughed.

“Yeah I could tell. You were all…” You imitated her face, making Taisa laugh.

“Come on, Tai!” Van hit her shoulder. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

The ride to Jackie’s was spent receiving questions from Tai as Van just listened in or responded to something Tai said.

There was something about this girl. The way she spoke. The way she looked at you through the rearview mirror, checking to make sure you were comfortable. She was sweet, obviously, but there was something else. Maybe, it was just the fact that she was pretty and red-haired, but something about her was all too attractive.

In the sense that you wanted to be her friend, of course.

By the time you got to Jackie’s, the other girls were already there and inside while her parents ordered food for all of you.

They greeted you from the kitchen at the opposite end of the giant house and told you the girls were “in the parlor”.

“You’ll get used to it,” Van said, walking with you to the living room, which was one of many but clearly the most casual of them.

“Hi!” Jackie was quick to pull you by her.

The night was spent getting interrogated, practically, about your boyfriend while you ate pizza and watched shitty movies until people started falling asleep.

You were up late with Van, who, like you, seemed to enjoy the shitty movie on screen. She grabbed the two of you a board game to play while you watched.

“So, do you wanna tell me about yourself at all?” She laughed. “I know more about Mark than my new teammate now.”

“Wasn’t really prepared for that one,” you joked, making her chuckle as you took your turn. “Well, all my old soccer friends are at different high schools now,” you said, shrugging. “So if you’re wondering—“

“Why you seem like such a loner?” She interrupted, making you laugh. “I was a little curious.”

“Jeez,” you laughed. “My best friend moved, like, across the country, and the rest of my friends are on rival teams now… And I’ve beat them all—“

“Fuck yeah, you have!” She laughed.

You spent most of the night talking with Van, who seemed to have been waiting to talk to you alone. She hardly spoke in the group conversation, but now she was lively and engaged. Maybe it was because the conversation had less to do with your boyfriend, and more to do with you. Maybe because she actually got to know you. You couldn’t tell.

There was just something about her.

At the next practice, you were getting the ball passed to you regularly, but never close enough to score.

Maybe because the one time you tried, Van blocked it like it was nothing, but that was weeks ago.

Which meant you were determined to best her now.

When Tai passed you the ball, you made a move to get it to Akilah. Just as quickly as you passed it, it was stolen by Nat, but Mari got a read on what you were trying to do and got it back.

“Mari!” Tai waved, but she quickly passed it to Akilah now that no one was guarding her.

She passed the ball to you, and as quickly as you got it you were kicking it at the goal without moving from your spot.

“Ah, fuck,” Van muttered, having been counting on you coming toward her and already moving to the right of the goal. She jumped toward the left to block, but the ball barely brushed her fingers before getting caught in the net.

“Yes!” Mari yelled, high fiving both you and Akilah when they made their way to you. “That was clean!”

“It was sloppy,” Tai said, coming up to the three of you as the rest of your mock team came as well. “Just unexpected.”

You nodded in agreement. “A goal is a goal, though.” She narrowed her eyes, huffing a laugh. “That kinda unexpected sloppiness can win a game.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jackie patted your shoulder. “Nice shot.”

“Well, why don’t we add it to the playbook?” Tai said. “Test it out in a real game.”

“Oh, don’t be bitter, Taissa.” Jackie laughed. “She just wanted you to pass the ball to her.” Tai laughed at that.

For the rest of the practice, you made sure to pass to Tai every so often, the two of you testing out new plays.

Despite that, Van was determined to block every one of your shots.

More so than anyone else.

It was to the point that after that one goal, you didn’t score another.

“Good game today,” Van said in the locker room, hand on your hip as she moved behind you to get to her locker. “You were making me nervous.”

“Me?” You laughed. “You were pissing me off—“ Van cut you off with a loud laugh. “I only got one goal!”

“It was hard to make that happen!” She laughed, and once it died down, she spoke up again. “Do you think you’d want to come to the field early sometime? Practice with me?”

You smiled, nodding. “Of course!” It was the perfect opportunity to get closer with her. Maybe, know more about her.

To become better friends, of course.

The first time was that weekend. You came the Sunday after practice, practicing earlier in the morning and getting lunch afterward.

It slowly became a habit; every once in a while, every other week, weekly…

“Here.” Van jogged over to you as you stood in front of the ball. “You obviously have to turn your hips, but you really give yourself away…” She held out her hands, brows raised. You nodded and her hands went to your hips to readjust. “This is what you’re doing.” She turned you to the right. “So, I always know you’re going left, but…” She turned you to a slight angle, facing the right corner of the goal. You looked back at her and she couldn’t bring herself to get the rest of her sentence out. “I’m not sure how to explain it,” she said, taking a step back. “Why don’t you try goalie for a minute?”

“I’m a shit goalie, Van.” She laughed at that, but you went anyway.

“Just try and figure out which way I’m going,” she said.

That day, you spent the entirety of it ogether. It was past lunch by the time you went to the locker room to change, talking the whole way there about your newfound knowledge.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” You suddenly suggested, both of you in the midst of changing. “We could, like, go out or something?”

She paused, looking over at you as she got her shirt on. “Where do you wanna go?”

You shrugged. “Mark took me to this little diner a few blocks from my place last weekend,” you said and her mood seemed to dampen. “They have everything— it’s, well… Well, it’s not amazing, but it’s cute.”

“Um…” She took a moment, putting on her shoes and taking down her hair. “I’m kind of tired—“

“Oh—“

“Yeah—“

“That’s okay—! No, I mean, that makes sense. We’ve been here all day, so…” You nodded as you got your pants on and slipped on your shoes. “Maybe another time, then?”

“Totally.” She nodded, giving a smile despite the sudden awkwardness that came between you.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow—“

“Wait, let me drive you home. It’s late—“

“No, no, no. It’s totally fine!” You gave her a smile as you grabbed your bag. “Mark was going to pick me up, anyway—“

“Oh, did you want to get dinner with him? Like, us three?” You shook your head. “But he’s picking you up,” she said, smirking with a furled brow.

“I would’ve just told him to go home, or hang out with Jeff and Randy, or something.” You shrugged. Her smile widened slightly, cheeks heating. “That’s kinda shitty, though, I guess.” She then laughed. “Next time we’ll, like, plan, or something.”

“Definitely.” She nodded. “And I’ll take you somewhere nicer than a hole-in-the-wall diner after practice, alright?”

Something about the way she said it made you smile, stomach fluttering. “Alright.”

She walked with you out of the dressing room and to your boyfriend's car. “See you tomorrow?” She said some ways away from the jeep he drove.

You nodded and leaned in for a hug, arms going around her shoulders. She was stunned for a moment, having not realized what you were actually leaning in for. She gave you a quick hug back before pulling away to go to her car.

The next day, she was talking to you in the halls, the next practice you were able to get more than one goal, and the next weekend your practice was spent laughing together in the field and dribbling the ball between one another rather than practicing.

“Oh shit!” Van laughed when it started to rain.

March had come quicker than you expected. You and Van had been hanging out for just over a month now, but it felt like you’d been friends all year.

Within minutes of you grabbing your bags, it was pouring rain and you were running to Van’s car.

“Jesus!” Van groaned as she slammed the door shut behind herself, you doing the same. You threw your bags in the backseat, wiping your faces.

She started the car, already starting her drive back to your house from memory.

“Just park in the garage,” you told her. “You can stay for a while.” You then added, “if you want.”

“Is that fine? Like, with your parents?”

“They’re out of town.” She nodded slowly, pulling into the garage. “I can, like, make us dinner or something,” you offered. “If you like pasta.”

“I love some good spaghetti.”

“Great!” You both laughed. “First, we need to shower, and get this shit in the wash.” You looked down at your damp shirt and shorts.

She turned off the car, and you headed inside. You grabbed both your bags and set them in the laundry room as you went inside, getting off your cleats and socks as well.

“Here.” You filled the silence and led her up the stairs. “My rooms there.” You pointed to the end of the hall. “I’ll use my parents shower… obviously.” Van chuckled at your awkward speech, nodding. “There’s towels and everything in there. You can just take my clothes.”

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Just send your stuff down the shoot.”

You took a quick shower before heading to your room in your towel and getting into pajamas.

You heard Van call your name some minutes later as you lay on your bed. “Close your eyes!” You laughed, covering your eyes. “Are they closed?”

“Yep.” She came in with just a towel. “I totally forgot to bring you clothes—“

“Fuck off.”

“Sorry!” You laughed. “Pajamas are in the bottom drawer.”

That night was spent making shitty pasta and laughing together as you ate in front of the TV you rolled out of your closet. You ended up sleeping in your room, falling asleep to an old movie with dishes on your night and arms around each other.

Since that day, Van had been so much more friendly.

It was almost insinuating.

She would touch you to get past you, tease you about a mistake on the field, sneak up and hug you from behind to scare you in the halls. And when she came over, she was touchy and clingy— not that you weren’t. You were often hugging her or lying your head on her shoulder. Hell, you even danced with her if either of you put on music.

On the field, however, she was awful. During scrimmage, she would go out of her way to make you fuck up. Even if you were on her team. She’d call something, or say something to you during a break that made you fumble the ball.

It was to the point that even her telling you good luck before a game had you flustered.

To the point where you fucked up.

“What the hell?!” Tai yelled at you as you shook your head at yourself. “Get it together—“

The ref blew a whistle for timeout after the other team's score. You groaned, walking over with a frown.

“What’s going on with you?” Ben asked.

“Are you sick?” Misty asked. “Injured?”

There was a small pep talk you had before you were sent back out. Unfortunately, your boyfriend was sitting with your parents as they watched you fuck up one of your last state games. It only made your nerves skyrocket.

“Get it together,” Nat told you, placing a hand on your shoulder as she walked past you.

Van was the last to leave, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Guess we should’ve kept up our practices, huh?” She joked, earning a glare. “Sorry— Look, you’re good. Really good. You’re just being predictable.” You frowned at her. “Think back on that play you, Mari, and Akilah pulled earlier this year.”

When you got back on the field, you did as Van said. You let Shauna, Tai, and Nat get their goals in, but after that you asked Tai to pass to Akilah, who was heavily guarded.

“What?” She frowned at you. “You’re, like, out of your mind today.”

“Just try?”

As soon as the ball was stolen from Akilah, Mari got it to you, and you back to an unguarded Akilah. When she passed to you, you immediately kicked at the goal.

“YES!” You heard before you even knew what happened.

The buzzer sounded, signifying you’d won and leaving you shocked as your teammates huddled around you, chanting: “BUZZ. BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ!”

In the locker room, your excitement continued until you and Van were the last ones there.

“So, I was thinking,” Van spoke up. “What do you think about dinner this Sunday after our usual?”

“Oh, now you’re nice?” You joked.

Maybe it’d been left out that you were completely reciprocal in this teasing game. You would go up to her at her locker to scare her like she did you, and of course hug her and kiss her cheek afterward before you went to class, leaving her flustered and wanting to get back at you by the time practice rolled around. So, maybe, you brought it on yourself.

“Come on,” she laughed. “It’s not my fault I make you nervous.”

“You’re so annoying.” You shook your head. “I almost blew the match because of you.” Her brows shot up. “You were fucking with me before the game with your…” You gentured to her when she looked at you with false confusion. “You know what you were doing.”

She laughed. “Yeah—“

“See!”

“I was just teasing—“

“Well, stop it.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered.” She pouted at you, earning a glare. “Even cuter when you’re mad at me.” She smiled. “Besides, we still won.”

“If we didn’t, they would’ve killed me.” She scoffed. “It’s not funny.”

“You’re actually upset?” She couldn’t help but laugh. “We still have, like, five games—“

“You can’t talk to me before them.” She practically guffawed. “You, like, fuck with with my fucking head. I don’t fucking know.”

“I fuck with your fucking head? What the fuck are you talking about?”

You groaned, turning to grab your bag. “Goodbye, Vanessa.”

“Hey.” She grabbed your hand, turning you around.

When she did, you were closer than she expected.

And that was when it started.

Her eyes fell to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes.

That was when you finally realized what that something about her was.

In the seconds it took you to process when was about to happen, her lips were on yours. Her hand still held yours and as soon as your free one went to her cheek, she tilted her head for a better angle.

You didn’t know how long you were there. You didn’t realize the time passing. You didn’t even know when it was that her hands found your waist and your other found her neck.

But you did realize that the door was opening.

You quickly pushed her back as someone stepped in, Van pretending to have been lacing up her shoes as she sat on the bench.

“Everything okay, babe?” Mark called from the doorway.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just helping Van with this turf burn.”

“Shit, is she okay?” He asked. “Should I get Misty?”

“I’m good!” Van called. “Just couldn’t wrap it myself.”

It took a few more exchanges to get him to leave, but eventually the door shut and you grabbed your things. You went to leave, but stopped yourself and turned around. You placed your hand on her shoulder as you leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Come over after practice tomorrow?”

She looked over at you, brow raised. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore, or…?”

“I’ll think about it.”

When she came over, the two of you went straight to your room to “watch TV.” You locked the door behind you, rolled out your miniature TV and put in a tape, and sat down on the bed with Van.

“Hurry up,” she laughed as she grabbed your hand and pulled you down on top of her.

You never talked about it. You didn’t discuss what was going on. You didn’t even ask what it meant.

You just changed your practices to time together. You’d still practice, but you’d also just sit and talk. You’d make out in the locker room before going to get lunch or dinner. You’d hang out with the team and sneak off to have time alone. You’d even just get together. One of you would call and ask the other to lunch, or to go to the mall, or just to come over. There wasn’t a need for the practice excuse anymore, it was just nice to do that, too.

But you also had to decline at times.

“Mark wanted to take me to the movies,” you told her one night and you could practically feel her mood shift. “Maybe… Maybe I can get him to—“

“No, it’s okay,” she told you quickly. “Spend time with your boyfriend.” The word left a sour tension in the air.

“Van—“

“What time’ll you be home?”

“Hey,” you sighed when she spoke over you. “If you want me to, I’ll… I can tell him, but I don’t think—“

“You’re going to tell him you’re cheating on him with your best friend?” She asked, tone disbelieving. “No way.”

“Tell him I want to break up,” you clarified. She was quiet for a moment. “And… We’re not cheating.”

“We’re hooking up,” she deadpanned.

“But…” You pursed your lips. “There’s no possibility of us… being an us, is there?” Your hopeful question, despite how poorly it came out, was met with another beat of quiet from her end, but she didn’t say anything that time. “I just mean… There isn't a way we could actually be together— at least, not in a real way—“

“In a real way?” She scoffed a laugh as she often did when you misused and fumbled over your words. “Have I been imagining all this, or—?”

“That’s not what I mean.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you started to get frustrated; mostly with yourself and your horrible articulation. “Publicly. Like, I’d never cheat with Randy or Jeff.” She cursed your name, laughing in disbelief as she listened to you try to justify what you’d said instead of taking it back. “This… You and me, is it really going anywhere? Because, if it’s just ‘hooking up’, we could never really be anything, you know? And that sucks, but it’s also, I don’t know, it’s, like, better—?“

“So, let me get this right… You think it's better that you’re with me, because if you were cheating with a guy, it’d actually be real— or no, there’d be a possibility of an actual relationship.” You pursed your lips at the tone of her voice, knowing how awful it sounded. “Is that right?”

“Not exactly.” She hummed, waiting for you to explain. “It’s more like… I’m scared of what people might—“

“I don’t wanna be with someone that’s scared of what people think—“

“Just let me talk.” You sighed, feeling your eyes sting. You’d never been good at articulating your feelings, especially not in this kind of situation. “I’m scared of what people might do because of what they think. It’s just… It’s better if it doesn’t look like we’re anything more than friends—“

“Okay, I’m gonna get off the phone—“

“Van—“

“No— Look… I see where you’re coming from, just… I know that’s not the reason you said it in the first place.” You didn’t argue, nodding despite the fact that she couldn’t see it. “If you want to, I’ll come over when you get home—“

“Okay,” you said all too quickly. “I’ll be home in two hours.” There was a long pause. “If you want to come.”

“Alright.” Click.

She came by that night, but when you tried to talk to her and smooth things over, she was short.

“Look,” she said. “I like you. I’m comfortable saying that.” You immediately shut your mouth and listened to what she had to say. “If you’re not comfortable admitting you don’t like guys. Or that you’re using your ‘boyfriend’ as a fucking beard, because you want me, that’s fine. I don’t care. I probably already knew that.” You nodded along. “But I don’t want to talk about it with you, because hearing you say it? That fucking hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” Van shook her head, dismissing it. “I really am afraid of what someone might do…”

“It’s not like I’d let anyone do anything to you,” she said, eyes narrowed.

“That’s not what I mean.” She sighed, waiting for you to explain. “I’m really not saying anything right in this conversation, I just… My point was that I’d leave him for you, and I was trying to ask you if, maybe, this could be more than this, because I don’t think you want me as more than a friend, so when I say ‘in a real way’ I mean, as more than…” You trailed off, narrowing your eyes at the bedsheets when you began to repeat yourself. “And… I wouldn’t cheat with a guy because—“

“Because you like girls?”

You looked up at her, lips pursed. “Why won't you answer my question?”

She tilted her head. “If we get together,” she started, “and I mean, actually get together. Not go to the mall and meet up at a store. Things are going to change. People will catch on, and they’ll treat you differently. I’m sure you know that, but I don’t think you’re ready for it. Especially not when you can’t even admit how you feel.” There was a long pause, her lips pursing. “Just stay where you’re safe,” she told you. “Stay with Mark. We can keep doing this— I like doing this— and you’re probably right. It’s probably better if people just think we’re friends, so…” She looked over at you, obviously still frustrated. “Why don’t we just move on?”

“Okay.”

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shinestarhwaa · 1 year ago

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Hi hi! I wanted to express my love for your sub!hwa piece called hello kitty and also make a request based off the list you posted!

So if you’re up for it I’d love to see some more sub!hwa with numbers 1, 46 (preferably seonghwa saying this but do whatever you’d like!) and 56.

Okay thank youuuu happy writing!

Hi dear! First of all I wanna thank you for enjoying my fic so much!! Line 46 was already used but I included it anyway since it was pretty general :) I hope you'll enjoy it!! Thank u so much for this great request!

EYES ROLL || PARK SEONGHWA

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Seonghwa x Fem reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship AU, Sub!Seonghwa, Dom!reader, Use Of Toys, pegging, cockslapping, reader got her hand around his neck but it's not really choking, unprotected sex, biting/marking kink, oral sex, slight hairpulling, 69, cum-eating

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

It was only the start of your delicious dinner and Seonghwa was already being a bad boy. When you were getting ready in your YSL blazer-dress he kept touching you when you told him no and in the cab on the way to the restaurant he kept peeking at your cleavage. Bad. Boy.

Now you sat here with your friendgroup, trying to have a nice dinner party for Yeosang's girlfriend, but all Seonghwa could pay attention to was the way you licked your lips. You flicked his thigh, making him whimper slightly, getting a few looks from Yunho and Jongho, but they looked away soon after again. "Stop that, Seonghwa," you whispered.

"You just look so good," he pouted. You sighed and continued your dinner, having lovely conversations with your friends and eating the most delicious food you've had in a long time. That was until Seonghwa's hand reached between your legs, to cup your pussy.

Now you were fuming, slapping his hand away. You gave him that look, so he knew he wasn't getting away with this tonight. Somehow it only seemed to make him excited. He wanted this? Well if he wanted this he could fucking get it.

The minute you got home and took off your coats and shoes you pressed him against the wall with a hand around his throat. "Who do you think you are? Being such a bad boy in front of our friends," you grunted.

"I-I couldn't help it!" "You definitely could've. You're coming with me now," you said as you grabbed his wrist and brought him to the bedroom.

You pushed him on the bed and started to unbutton his shirt. Your lips attached to his neck and you kissed down his chest, leaving little lovebites on his skin, making him hiss. His pants got tighter underneath you as he felt your teeth graze against his chest. Seonghwa whined out as you bit his nipple slightly, making you smirk.

"You know I'm gonna ruin you, right?" You smirked. "P-please," he whimpered. In only a matter of time his shirt and pants were on the floor, leaving him in just his underwear. Seonghwa's cock was straining against the soft material, leaving a little wet patch of pre-cum on it. That's how needy he is for you.

You took off your dress, leaving you in your black lingerie. "You're so beautiful," he breathed out and you couldn't help but smile. You knew he was so genuinely in love with you and even when you were dominating him like this, you could tell by the look he had in his eyes.

''You're gonna prove to me that you can be good, okay?''

Seonghwa nodded eagerly as he wasted no time taking off your lingerie. He laid you down on the bed and spread your legs. ''This what you want, Y/N?'' ''Yes, baby, you know what I want, put that tongue in my pussy,'' you smirked.

He nodded again and positioned himself between your legs. His fingertips grazed your smooth skin as his tongue slid through your folds. Your boyfriend was a pussy-eating master and you thanked your lucky stars and the entire universe for that. There was nothing better than having Seonghwa's mouth defile your wet cunt.

"Oh Hwa, fuck baby, that feels so good, eat my wet pussy baby," you moaned out, fingers entangled in his raven black hair. He moaned into you when he felt you tugging at his hair. Seonghwa wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, earning louder moans from you.

Your hips moved against his face until you were practically riding his tongue. Your orgasm approached you quickly and you trapped Seonghwa's face in your cunt, clenching your thighs around him. "Yes, yes, y-yes, YES!" You cried out as you released on him. You breathed heavily as you came down from your high, letting Seonghwa go.

"Am I a good boy now?" He asked. You grinned and got up. "Starting to be one." You reached into the closet, grabbed a black box and put it on the desk next to the bed.

Seonghwa swallowed thickly as he watched you take several toys out of the box. "Are we gonna use all of those?" He asked, palming his rockhard cock. "Maybe," you smirked. A bright pink buttplug was the first thing you brought to your boyfriend, who was about to take his underwear off for you.

"No," You said, "wait a minute." You quickly took a vibrator wand in your hands and got on the bed. He licked his lips at the sight of you with the toy in your hand. You turned it on on the lowest setting and put it on the underside of his clothed erection.

His breathing picked up quickly as you moved it from the bottom all the way to the tip, making him cry out your name. "You're so hard for me, what a naughty boy," you smirked. He nodded and let out the most sinful moans as you put it on a higher setting, settling it on the head of his cock.

Seonghwa threw his head back and moaned loudly as he felt himself close to cumming. You quickly turned off the vibrator and yanked off his underwear, revealing his angry red and leaking cock.

You squirted some lube on the buttplug, signaling him to open his legs for you. He winced as you pushed it in, clenching around it. You didn't turn the vibration on just yet, but you sat on your knees inbetween his legs.

"Do you realize that you were a bad boy, Seonghwa?"

He stammered cutely, "I-I just wanted to touch you." His beautiful boba-like eyes would've made him look so cute if his cock wasn't leaking right in front of your face. "Well I didn't allow you to, did I?" He shook his head. "So what are you then?" You asked with a stern voice. "A-A bad boy," he whispered.

"I didn't hear you, speak up." "I...I was a bad boy," he spoke, more clearly now. "That's fucking right," you said as you slapped his sensitive cock, holding it at the base with your other hand, making him cry out. "N-no please," he whined as he grabbed the sheets with his fists.

"You're saying no, but you mean yes, sweetie, this only gets you riled up more and more doesn't it?" You asked as you slapped his cock again. Seonghwa nodded and mewled as you slapped it again and again. "You shouldn't lie, Seonghwa. Are you being bad again?"

"N-no! No I'm not bad, I'll be good!" He cried out as you repeatedly hit his length. When you realized he was at his breaking point you let go of him.

You got into his lap and sank down on his cock, making him whine loudly. "O-oh god," he moaned when he watched himself fill you up entirely. You rolled your hips against him, letting yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Soon enough you started to bounce on his cock, letting out loud moans. "Fuck, such a good cock baby, such a great fucking cock," you whined. Seonghwa was a moaning mess when you started to bounce on him. "T-That feels so fucking good!"

"Yeah baby? My pussy feels so good right? Feels so fucking good clenching around your delicious cock," you moaned out. You kept going, moving faster on top of him until you felt the familiar warmth in your abdomen. "I'm gonna cum baby, gonna cum on your cock!"

Instantly, Seonghwa orgasmed, filling you with his cum. You clenched around his cock so hard he swore he'd see stars. "F-fuck, Seonghwa!" You cried out as your orgasm washed over you.

You slowed down and rode out your highs before getting off him. You gave him no warning before settling in a 69-position. His hands were on your ass in no time, pulling your pussy closer to his face.

Seonghwa licked his cum out of your pussy as you licked his dick clean. Your hand found the buttplug and slightly twisted it around a few times before pulling it out. "Please," he panted out against your pussy, "please fuck me." "Be patient, Seonghwa," you warned him.

You got off him, leaned over and got a slim glass dildo from the box on the desk, a tool you loved to open him up with. Instinctively he opened his legs wider, spreading his hole for you. "Look, that's a good co-operative boy."

You made sure to lube up the toy before sliding it into his puckering hole. He cried out as it got in with ease. You slowly moved it in and out of him, making Seonghwa mewl.

His breathing got heavier and his back arched when you moved it faster inside of him, making his cock twitch. "Harder, please I beg you!" Seonghwa cried. "I'm using this to open you up, honey, be patient, I'm gonna fuck your needy ass after."

Seonghwa kept whining and pleading with his expressive eyes. You pulled the toy out and placed it on the side, getting your strap-on panties out this time. You put them on and made sure the big dildo on it was nice and secure.

You slowly pushed the dildo into his tight hole, making him whine softly. "Oh god," he moaned out when you bottomed out and pushed in again. Your hands slid under his legs all the way to his hips, holding it tight as you started to fuck him relentlessly.

In a matter of time he turned into a moaning mess. You reached all his deepest places and repeatedly hit at his prostate, knowing it'd make him go crazy. "Yes! Yes o-oh god, oh god, fuck me, yeah, fuck me, fuck me, harder!"

Whenever you fucked your boyfriend he always had such a filthy mouth, begging for it like a real slut, and you loved him for it. He was a real cockwhore, to be fair, so more often than not you used your biggest dildo's on him.

The sound of skin slapping and his loud moans made you go crazy, only fucking him harder, desperate to hear his noises. Seonghwa arched his back and moaned loudly, cock twitching against his stomach.

"Are you gonna cum, precious? Are you cumming on my cock?," you smirked as you pounded into him even harder. "Yes! Yes, yes please, please!" He moaned loudly as you watched his eyes roll back in pleasure. You knew he was really really close now. You reached for his cock and pumped it quickly, making him cum all over his stomach in no time. You slowly stopped and pulled out of him, looking at the mess of a boyfriend you created.

"So are you going to be a good boy now?" You asked him after cleaning him up. "I don't know, it's kind of fun to be bad."

#kpop #ateez #smut #seonghwa #starshinehwaa's prompt list #starshinehwaa

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pocketmania · 8 months ago

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umm, hi! first time anon here, and also first time requester, i've been reading a lot though, i fucking love blogs like this ❤

splatoon 🎨🔫hurt/comfort, sfw (but it can be suggestive...) acht (or any other idol, but my brain keeps swinging back to acht) x human! reader? i'm a sucker for existential comfort like that, (and it's so incredibly hard to settle on a character since all of them have a unique perspective or attitude one could use as a lens for that kind of thing, aughhhh 💥💥💥) everything loved and known to you is dead and forgotten, but something just as, if not more, worthy of that love and memory can be found in it's place i'm trying to write stuff in that vein myself and i don't see enough of it...

Aaa hi! Thank you for consulting me to write for you!

I'm gonna go with Acht on this one (again, this marks my 4th time writing about them) since they seem to be familiar with existential dread lol

I'm also sorry if this is bad or not what you wanted! As you can see, I'm not the best at writing lol (at least not without making it too long)

Now onto the thingy

‎‧₊˚✧[ Alternan Survivor ]✧˚₊‧

(🎨🔫🤬❤️‍🩹) - splatoon comfort

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

- - - - - - -

"WHAT ARE YOU?!" You screeched, holding out your hand in case of an attack and backing into a corner, absolutely helpless.

Okay, time to back up. 'How did you get here?' You woke up from some sort of capsule in a dark, damp room. You managed to exit the room but were, unfortunately, met with an equally dark and damp corridor. All the doors, save one, were locked. You opened the door, closed it behind you, and began to rummage around, hoping that there was something to help you understand what was going on.

All there was was a bed, a DJ turntable, a minifridge, a desk with a laptop on a composing software, and some other stuff. You decided to check the desk first since it seemed the most useful. You were rummaging around in it, but you nothi-

Click.

You heard the door open and immediately snapped your head around to find who opened it. It was this.. green, octopus humanoid. Its tentacles were red and blue, but most of them were covered by its headphone-hat combo. It had mirror shades, knee-high boots, and a black tank-top dress. Its fingertips were also red.

You were mortified at the.. thing before you, and you screamed at the top of your lungs. You somehow tripped on your own feet, knocking a bunch of things off the desk on your way down. You scooted to a corner, your heart in your mouth.

The creature pulled up its shades, revealing yellow eyes. Yellow eyes that looked sad and tired. Yellow eyes that looked concerned. It held out its hands to show that it posed no threat to you, but you were still incredibly nervous.

And that's how you got to where you were now. The thing attempted to speak to you, but it was nothing but gibberish to your ears. You squinted, trying to make out any words that would make any sort of sense to you. It still didn't.

The octopus-humanoid realized that you couldn't understand it, so it went over to its laptop and began to type something out. It cautiously brought it over and crouched so you could see it better.

Some sort of article was pulled up, but, of course, you couldn't read the writing. However, a specific picture stuck out to you.

A photo. A photo of many human bones found underground. Next to a rocket.

Suddenly, everything made sense. The capsule, being underground, the creature standing before you.

Humans were dead.

Memories suddenly came flooding back to you; Alterna, Judd, the sentient Telephone. You put yourself into that capsule somewhere far away from Alterna as you didn't trust the younger scientists and their ambition. The rocket launch everyone had been talking about must have failed. You didn't know how long you had been asleep, but the article answered that for you.

Twelve thousand years. It was impossible. Well, it obviously wasn't since you were sitting there right now when you should've died twelve thousand years ago.

You looked (and felt) defeated. You held your head in your hands, and you began to sob violently. You couldn't understand anyone.. you didn't know where you were.. your entire kind.. ceased to exist..

The thing crouched beside you and rose a hand to pat your back. You found it oddly comforting, despite not knowing whatever was comforting you was. After about ten, maybe fifteen minutes, your sobbing slowed. You sat in disbelief.

The creature spoke to you again. You still didn't know what it was saying, but you could tell it felt bad for you. Then, it stood up and held out a hand. A hand for you to take, for you to rely on, for you to trust.

You hesitated. All of this was happening so fast in such little time. But.. the creature didn't seem to pose a threat. It helped you understand and even comforted you (to some extent).

You took its hand and stood up.

Everything was still over your head, especially the new life that had emerged while you were asleep. But you could trust that this.. person.. would help you. "Thank you," you said, sniffling and rubbing your eyes. They smiled.

They, at least, seemed to understand your thankfulness.

- - - - - - -

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

#splatoon #splatoon x reader #splat3 #acht dedf1sh #acht splatoon #alterna splatoon #alterna #angst #angst writing #angst with a hopeful ending #angst with comfort #oneshot #human!reader #eat up

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 10 months ago

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I'd like to know your opinion on why ts songs are considered so good lyrically by her fans. That one line in cardigan is hailed as the peak writing skill by them. The one that says you drew stars around my scars. Am I missing something or are they just gaslighting me?

Hello- sorry it took me sooooo long to get back to you :) I am a busy little bee these days- but I love chatting with people too! <3

So, the line “you drew stars around my scars / but now I’m bleeding” is perhaps good writing, when we only compare Taylor Swift to her own work. It’s certainly a change from “the players gonna play, play, play,” but it is not somehow a gift to lyricism. I know that swifties tend to use lines like these to say that “look see, she is a talented writer” when the truth is that it’s just a boring metaphor that essentially goes nowhere in the song.

Yeah- They are literally gaslighting you. It’s an alright line- but it’s not genius. The reason swifties think this line is amazing is because of the alliteration between "scars" and "stars." Apparently one alliteration is enough to make someone into literary genius? Just one repetitive sound- and they think she’s pulling off something amazing.

Compare this line to a full narrative arc in an alliterative verse epic poem from early Germanic Literature- and Swift's writing is basically loose change on the dashboard compared to gold bar- lyricism.

So, her line "you drew stars around my scars / but now I'm bleeding" is mostly incoherent. She's honestly saying word salad in most of her songs- with vague rhymes at the end of each phrase- but I digress.

I think you're keying into a thoughtful observation here. Putting aside my comment on its general incoherence, let me first speak to the fact that this line is an attempt at metaphor.

She is saying "you drew stars" in effort to merge the conceptual point of "drawing stars" to someone reaching out- or creating interpersonal connection. She continues "around my scars" to showcase how this new connection sees her past, the “scars,” and is encapsulating it with a drawn star instead of, for instance, marking it out with a black mark or something. The connotative value of the word star, in this case, calls forward the idea of goodness and since it is tied to her connotative value of "scars" as a past hurt- the line ultimately means that some new interpersonal connection is viewing her past and approving of it rather than hating it. It's meant to ring as a redemptive arc- yet nothing in the song actually needs redemption or ever mentions it again. The theme drops immediately after the line finishes.

The line finishes, "but now I'm bleeding" which is meant to mean that the scar is reopened- because the connection she made is no longer interested in her. This analysis, however, requires many leaps in logic. I cannot point to any specific linguistic markers that would denote the connection between "scar" and "bleeding." Though Swift clearly means to interconnect these two points, scars don’t bleed. So, she’s trying to say that the scar has reopened- perhaps because the person who drew the stars is leaving. However, there is nothing in the language itself that suggests this conclusion; rather she relies on audience reception to jump from point "a" to point "b." She never calls it a wound, she mentions "bloodstain" is a later line- but the connection between all the different phrasing is tenuous at best. I mean that there is no storyline within the line itself that is suggestive of the meaning Swift is attempting to lay out.

Beyond this line- nothing in the whole song ever revisits the thematic purpose of the metaphor. She never mentions stars, or scars, and does not revisit the theme of redemptive love. She barely even lays out the idea of redemption in love in the first place- and further drops the imagery by never going back to the same theme again. She conjures up this image just to drop it immediately.

This is a pattern in her work- she writes one thing, and then drops the idea.

I mean it sounds clever- without actually being clever.

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift criticism #literary criticism #taylor swift critical #ex swiftie #metaphor #cardigan

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jjmbbg · 1 year ago

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headcanons + situations of "being an adopted child of john and abigail marston" [and being jack's older sibling].

• let's say you're about four years older than jack.

• honestly you weren't adopted by them, they just found you in the middle of the road wandering around barefoot and with your clothes a little torn.

• they took you because they felt sorry for you.

• and somehow abigail felt some special connection with you.

• the others in the gang would tease john for being a softie with you.

• although john would be happy to have you, he says it would be nice for jack to have an older sibling, someone else to play with.

• (but then john left)

• jack was one year old when he became the youngest child.

• you would both know how to read and write, although you would always help jack with the difficult words.

• abigail would teach you how to sew, basically it would be the only thing you would know how to do because it's known that she doesn't cook very well, so she couldn't teach you a lot of things.

• arthur was your "favorite uncle" in the gang, along with javier.

• javier taught you how to play the guitar and some words in spanish (he taught you curse words and abigail almost smashed the guitar on his head 'cause of that)

• let's say arthur had a soft side for you, with that in mind, he taught you how to draw.

• so you filled all the tents and notebooks with drawings.

• arthur would also take you fishing with jack.

【 ㅡ could you take care of them for a while?

arthur looked at abigail for a few seconds, agreeing.

you saw him walking towards you, jack was playing with a stick and you were sitting next to him reading his favorite book.

ㅡ whatchu up to?

ㅡ i'm playing ㅡjack answered, looking at him. ㅡ and they're reading to me.

ㅡ anything fun?

ㅡ i guess so ㅡyou said.

ㅡ you wanna come fishing with me?

ㅡ fishing?

ㅡ sounds fun ㅡyou said closing the book and marking the page you were reading.ㅡ does this sound fun to you, jackie?

ㅡ sure. you both are... it's about time that you started to earn your keep.

ㅡ okay.

ㅡ let's go get your pole then. now, you do have a fishing pole, don't you?

ㅡ uncle hosea made us two.

ㅡ cool.

the three of them went to get their fishing poles and mounted their horses, you heard the two of them talking as you looked around. you arrived at the ideal fishing spot and got off, arthur taught you both how to fish.

of course, jack got bored and sat a couple of meters away from you, but you stayed with arthur.

ㅡ how you fellin'? ㅡarthur asked you.ㅡ you know, because of your dad and that stuff.

ㅡ ah, that ㅡyou murmured.ㅡ i'm fine, i guess. mom is too and jack... i think he is too, he doesn't talk about it, although he doesn't fully understand it either.

ㅡ your mother have explained what happened, did she?

ㅡ she did it, but... well, i don't wanna talk about it...

ㅡ alright then. 】

• we know john and abigail were gonna have little girl too.

• i have the hc that she was conceived after their wedding, but she didn't make it.

• so, with that in mind, let's put ourselves in the situation where she should've been born.

• you would have stayed with jack so he wouldn't worry about his mother.

• you know, jack is anxious (canonically).

• you have a memory of hearing your little sister cry.

• however, you never saw her, neither you nor jack.

• and your family never brought the subject up to the table.

• at twelve you would ask john to teach you how to shoot because one day it would be just you and jack, and someone had to take care of him.

【 ㅡ you're twelve, i'm not gonna teach you that ㅡjohn said. but let's be honest, in part he didn't accept because abigail would castrate hi if he did.

ㅡ at my age you-

ㅡ yeah, but i didn't have other options, you do. i'm not gonna take you down that path.

ㅡ i just wanna know how to shoot, one day you will leave and so will mom and it'll be jack and i. i'll have to take care of that fool.

john was certainly be sad, although he will never show it to you. it's not that he didn't want to teach you how to shoot a gun, he just doesn't want you to get excited about learning and want to do things that put you at risk.

he ended up agreeing after many more pleas. 】

• your relationship with jack was the typical relationship of siblings where they fought at breakfast and at dinner they were already reconciled.

• and you would be the first person to come to his defense always, even if he was wrong.

【 ㅡ did you go hunting a bear by yourself? that was dangerous! and- and- stupid!

ㅡ i already know! ㅡjack would scream, then hiss in pain.ㅡ i had enough with pa, and ma would scold me worse. i already learned my lesson or whatever.

ㅡ ... at least let me sew your clothes while you clean up, okay?

ㅡ ... okay.

[...]

ㅡ i did my best at sewing it, and it doesn't look too bad ㅡyou said, extending his clothes to him.ㅡ i also washed them and let them dry, have you rested yet?

ㅡ you don't have to worry about me ㅡhe said annoyed.

ㅡ are you mad at me? ㅡyou asked, almost without being able to believe it.

ㅡ yes- no- i don't know! ㅡhe screeched.ㅡ it's just... i think i'm just mad at myself.

ㅡ and why is that? ㅡyou took a seat next to him on his mattress.

ㅡ i think... that i'm like this because i couldn't catch it...

ㅡ it's okay to not achieve things the first time.

ㅡ no, it's not okay ㅡhe said, standing up as best he could and walked around his room trying to calm down. ㅡ i'm supposed to already know how to do these hunting things, i learned how to skin elk!

ㅡ but it's not the same, jack. it's different to hunt animals that are hunters and animals that are fairly harmless.

ㅡ it doesn't matter anymore. and could you come out of my room? i want to change.

ㅡ let me check your wounds and i'll leave.

ㅡ does mom know?

ㅡ i don't know, i doubt it.

you checked the state of his wounds and changed his bandages.

ㅡ great, will you go now?

ㅡ mhm, just... wait.

in the midst of his struggle to put on his shirt, you hugged him.

ㅡ this is weird ㅡjack murmured, not knowing whether to reciprocate or not the hug.ㅡ very weird.

ㅡ shut up ㅡyou told him.ㅡ i wish you were sixteen forever.

jack seemed to understand what you were talking about, so he allowed himself to reciprocate your hug by murmuring a simple "it's okay." 】

• john's (and uncle's) death would have led you to take care of what was left of your family, trying to maintain order.

• but then abigail died.

• and jack wanted to revenge his family.

• you couldn't stop him.

• and he didn't look back when he left.

• it would have been weeks since jack left without telling you where.

• obviously you couldn't just die, you still had to take care of the farm and for yourself, with or without him.

• one day, while you were driving the cows, you saw him riding through the entrance of the place.

• he had returned.

【 ㅡ okay, little cows, tomorrow you'll go back to grazing ㅡyou told them as if they would understand you.

you got off your horse and went home, when you were going up the stairs in the entrance you saw him.

your stupid brother had already returned.

you smiled and returned on your steps as jack got off his (your dad's) horse and walked towards you. you stood facing each other, not knowing who should speak first.

ㅡ you're back ㅡyou said after a few eternal seconds of silence.

ㅡ i killed someone ㅡhe said.ㅡ i killed him, i- edgar ross died and i caused it.

you looked at him surprised and nodded your head as you listened to him talk about his journey.

ㅡ why did you do it?

ㅡ i told you it was for revenge. someone had to avenge uncle, ma and pa ㅡhe responded cautiously.

ㅡ and do you feel good after having done it?

jack didn't respond, in fact, he wasn't even looking at your face, he had his own hidden behind his hat. you raised your hand to lift him by the chin and make him deign to look you in the eyes and answer your question.

but then he sniffed.

ㅡ jackie... ㅡyou called him, feeling your heart break.

ㅡ it didn't feel good at all ㅡhe cried out.ㅡ i thought it would do it, that something would change, but no... nothing happened.

you hugged him because you knew he wasn't going to ask you to and you also knew it was what he needed most.

ㅡ they're gone... ma, pa, uncle... all gone...

ㅡ i know, jackie, i know. and i'm not going anywhere.

ㅡ pa said the same thing.

ㅡ maybe, but i'm not him. 】

#jack marston #john marston #abigail marston #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #x reader #gn reader #headcanon #headcanons #rockstar games #cowboys

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lalogawrites · 4 months ago

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The final chapter (a steamy epilogue!) is up! 😍 Sorry for the delay; life got a little crazy for a while. Speaking of... I'm gonna pull back from posting for a bit to handle some Life Things (good, just time-consuming), but rest assured, I'm still writing behind the scenes. 😘

Anyway, here's a snippet of the epilogue! This whole chapter is one of my favorite things I've ever written. ~~~

“I want to do this right,” she said to him, her expression earnest. “So how about you lose the armor while I change into something a little less… Jedi.”

Heat flushed through his veins. “Works for me.”

She rooted around the dresser and grabbed something he didn’t see, then slipped through the small door that led to the ‘fresher. Meanwhile, Stonewall removed his armor, carefully stacking the pieces, until he was just in his black body-glove. He had a set of crimson fatigues in the crate, but the blacks would do for at least the next few minutes. After all those stolen moments aboard the ship, he could hardly believe he was here, in her quarters — and they were alone.

Trying to calm his racing heart, Stonewall sat on the bed’s edge and gazed out the room’s single window, searching for landmarks he recognized.

“You can’t see the barracks from here,” Kali said, making him turn. “But you can almost make out Monument Plaza from the other room.”

Stonewall barely registered her words. She’d abandoned her traditional beige Jedi tunic and loose trousers and replaced them with a set of lacy underwear in a deep, inky purple. Her hair hung loose, framing her face. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, and he promptly forgot how to breathe.

But somehow, his brain adapted to the new scenario, and he managed, “You’ve looked for the barracks from here?”

“Oh, yes.” Kali approached him, coming to stand between him and the window, just within arm’s reach. “Thinking about you.”

His heart had kicked up its pace, but he forced himself to be calm. They had until the morning before he probably had to check in at the barracks. But now that they were finally here, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment would get snatched away, somehow.

Don’t fret about the future, he told himself. Savor the moment.

So he skimmed his fingertips down her arm, pausing briefly at the bruises on her wrist from where the pirate leader had restrained her. The sight briefly made fury rise within his chest, and he silently vowed to never let anyone leave such a mark on her — not while his heart beat, at least.

He continued his tactile exploration over the swell of her hips and down to the curve of her ass, and he stiffened, impossibly, further. Her skin prickled beneath his touch and her breathing quickened.

Stonewall swallowed. “Nice skivvies. Are they standard?”

#clone troopers deserve better #clone trooper oc #clone wars fanfiction #oc fanfiction #star wars oc #jedi oc #captain stonewall #kalinda halcyon #sw tcw fanfic #tcw fanfic #smut #clone x jedi smut

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lazyfandombean · 6 months ago

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So bury your roots (Deltarune - Sweet-centric)

Summary: He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to fix it. Maybe because it gave him something to do that didn’t have to do with survival. Or maybe it was because he wondered if they were the same; if he’d been thrown away because he was broken. --- Sweet spends the first seven years of his life not knowing who he was or why he was abandoned. He spends the next seven years of his life figuring it all out. --- A.k.a.: Sweet gets adopted by Queen and also meets the CC in SCC AU, all built around ONE SINGULAR JOKE THAT I HAD NO INTENTION OF WRITING SO MUCH FOR. Anyway sorry I suck at summaries :') Warnings: Lots of manipulation, a bunch of hurt/comfort, and SCC ARE BROTHERS AGENDA!!! Also angst. ALSO be warned that this is entirely unedited and not beta-read and I hate it very much but I'm posting it anyway out of spite for the sleep I lost finishing it. Also also this was supposed to be crack. It is not crack anymore. Also also also it uses an unhealthy amounts of headcanons. I've added too many also's. Words: 17,657 Notes: I'm gonna be honest, I have no clue what I'm doing here. I've never actually cross-posted a fic onto Tumblr before, so if this format isn't working, just let me know and I can figure out something else. ALSO there's some stuff in the author's notes of the Ao3 version of this fic that are exclusive to that site (mostly because I don't feel like copy-pasting all of that and fitting it into this format). A link to the Ao3 series will be at the end of this fic so you can check those notes out if you want.

— — —

He first met her while he was playing in an alleyway. Not the one he usually stayed at, but it was close to the Queen’s castle, so that meant it had the best food. He wasn’t there to eat though; instead, he sat in a little corner fiddling with a small robot.

He’d found the poor thing in one of the dumpsters. From what he could tell, it used to be able to walk and move its arms up and down, and it even had a little button that played garbled music when pressed. But it had been broken, so it’d been thrown away.

He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to fix it. Maybe because it gave him something to do that didn’t have to do with survival. Or maybe it was because he wondered if they were the same; if he’d been thrown away because he was broken.

He didn’t think about it too hard as he shuffled and fixed various parts. He didn’t totally know what he was doing, but somehow he could tell when he’d gotten something wrong or right. There was a remote that the robot was supposed to have that he hadn’t been able to find, but that was fine; he could build one for it later.

He’d just managed to fix the speakers that played the song (turns out it was hip-hop; not his favorite, but not bad) when a shadow suddenly loomed over him and said, “Wow Cool Robot.”

He looked up and replied, “Thank you,” because you were always supposed to be polite to strangers. Especially the Queen.

She looked down at him, tilting her head as question marks appeared on her visor. “Why Are You Sitting In: My Backyard?”

“Sorry,” he said automatically, “I didn’t know this was your back...yard.” He held up the robot as it continued to play a song he didn’t know. “I was fixing him.”

“Fixing Him?” She repeated, looking down at the toy. He nodded. “Was He Broken?”

He nodded again. “He’s supposed to walk an’ his speakers were messed up before,” he explained. “I fixed his speakers and legs ‘n stuff, but I can’t find the remote to make him move.”

“That Is: Impressive,” She said with a hum. “Most Children I’ve Met Don’t Know How To Do Stuff Like That Yet; Even The Bigger Ones. What’s Your Name?”

“I don’t have one,” he replied, wondering what she meant by ‘bigger ones’. “What’s yours?” He mentally kicked himself for asking that— obviously her name was the Queen.

She didn’t reply for a moment, and he felt his system heating up in embarrassment. He was right about to apologize for the dumb question when she answered, “Technically My Name Is Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N, But Most People Call Me: Queen.”

He blinked his eye. “Oh. Well… it’s nice to meet you, Queen.” Probably. Meeting the Queen should be nice, right?

“It’s Nice To Meet You Too, Nameless Child,” she replied, before pausing and shaking her head, the word NOPE flashing onto her screen. “No, No, I Can’t Just List You As: Nameless Child; Too Long.” She looked at him. “Are You Sure You Don’t Have A Name? Not Even A Designation?”

He shook his head, unsure of what a ‘designation’ was, but unwilling to ask. She made a weird ticking noise with her mouth. “Well, What Can I Call You Then?” She looked back at him, but kinda seemed like she was looking more through him, so he didn’t answer. After a moment, she snapped her fingers. “I Will Call You: Sweet. Because You Are: Sweet. How Does That Sound, Sweet?”

He paused, thinking about it. It sounded nice, and he’d never had a name before; having one might be fun. Sweet nodded. “Good. Thank you for the name.”

Queen waved a hand dismissively. “No Need To Thank Me. I Already Know I’m The Best.” And then, to his surprise, she held her hand out to him. He flinched, because people usually only did that if they were gonna hit him, but she didn’t; she just kept it there as she spoke again. “How Would You Like To Come To My Mansion? We Can Like. Watch TV Or Shrink In The Acid Pool Or Something.”

Sweet had no idea what either of those things were, but he definitely wasn’t gonna pass up the opportunity to see Queen’s castle in person. And even the inside! He moved the robot in the crook of his arm and reached his hand out to hers, hesitating at the last second to see if she’d move it away. When she didn’t, her eyes just changing to four question marks again, he grabbed her hand. It was warm. “Yes ma’am.”

— — —

Two of Queen’s friends — Tasque Manager and Swatch, she’d told him — didn’t seem to like Sweet very much when they’d first seen him. It’d made him nervous at first, because he didn’t want to get kicked out right as he got there, but Queen reassured him (after having some long fight with her friends) that he wasn’t gonna he kicked out, and that apparently they were just worried because the first thing they saw him doing was getting into the ‘acid pool’ with Queen, which was apparently ‘unsafe for children’. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on or what any of that meant, but he was just glad he got to see more of Queen’s castle.

After that, they’d started on a tour; then being Sweet, Queen, and Tasque Manager. Queen was the main guide, but sometimes she’d get distracted or start rambling, which was usually followed by Tasque Manager reminding her of what they were doing. It was a lot of fun! He got to see all of the guest rooms (although there was one they wouldn’t show him), all of the dining halls, all of the paintings… and all of the pottery. Queen really loved pottery for some reason. Maybe ‘cause they all looked like her face.

By the time the tour was over, Cyber City had gotten dark; well, as dark as it ever got. Sweet was reminded of the fact that he hadn’t eaten yet when his lower speaker growled. It was then that he wondered if he’d overstayed his welcome, if he should leave, but instead of being kicked out by Queen or her friends, they instead made dinner for him, which he ate happily. It was even better fresh than it was from the garbage, and he didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to steal it from him here!

They all got really weird looks when he mentioned this, though, so he didn’t talk about it after that.

Queen made him play this game called ‘Minecrap’ on her phone after dinner, which was fun. He really sucked at it though, so he just watched her play for a while. His eye started getting droopy as more time passed, and as more of Cyber City’s lights winked out (but not all of them; never all of them), he started to feel more and more guilty for taking up so much time. So, once Queen had beaten this thing called ‘the Ender Dragon’ after her ‘speedrun’, he decided it was time to rip the band-aid off.

“So when do I have to go?” He asked hesitantly once she’d turned off the phone. “Because I can leave now if you want.”

She paused, and for the nth time this evening, he wondered what he’d said that was wrong. “Do You Have A: House To Go Back To?”

Sweet winced. Was it bad to not have a house? “No,” he muttered, scuffing his shoe on the floor.

Queen shrugged, putting up her phone. “Then You Don’t.”

He blinked. “Don’t what?”

“You Don’t Have To Go.”

He froze. “What?”

She turned towards him, seemingly noticing his utter confusion. “Well I’m Not Just Going To Toss You Back Onto The Streets,” she said, which only confused him more, because that was exactly what he’d expected her to do. “Why Do You Think I Showed You A Room Labeled: Sweet’s Room?”

He blinked. He’d forgotten about that room. And that Sweet was his name now, when he saw it. “Oh.”

…

“Wait, didn’t you just name me like… three hours ago? How’d you make a room and a label in three hours?”

“The Swatchlings Are: Fast As Heck.”

— — —

Being a permanent resident of Queen’s castle (or mansion, as she often corrected) was probably the best thing that’d ever happened to him. He got to eat regularly, was allowed to play with whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted (as long as it was in the castle and also not the acid pool), and he even got a bunch of clothes from Queen! Even if they were kinda hard to fit over his box-shaped head and body.

There was some stuff he didn’t like, though. Queen made him do stuff like school (which wasn’t very hard for him, but it still wasn’t fun), and he had to get check-ups from an Ambyu-Lance a lot, and it always took a while, and he always had to stay still, which was annoying. Those were helpful though, ‘cause they were able to figure out a lot of stuff even he didn’t know about himself. Like the fact that according to his ‘make and model’, he was around seven, he was short for his age, and only having one eye was normal for him.

So it wasn’t information that he liked hearing, but it was good to have.

He still had a lot of fun, though! Playing with the Swatchlings was fun (even though they only really played when Queen told them to), and the tasques were all super fluffy and soft, and they didn’t even hiss at him anymore after the first week or so! He liked hanging out with Queen, Swatch, and Tasque Manager too, but they were too busy for him to play with very often.

Which was the biggest problem, actually; he didn’t really have a lot of people to play with. Even the Swatchlings couldn’t stay with him all the time (they still had other guests to attend to, after all), and other than the Addisons who would sometimes come to visit Queen, he was pretty much left by himself when he wasn’t learning or playing– which was a lot of the time. He spent most of his days wandering around Queen’s mansion, exploring the places that hadn’t been on the tour. He even found a bunch of secret shortcuts all throughout the mansion!

He avoided the guest room that they had kept him away from, though. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was inside.

But even then, within the first couple of weeks in the mansion, he’d explored all there was to explore. Every secret hallway, every floor of the mansion, every room… the only place he hadn’t explored was the basement, and that was only because it was always locked (and no one even acknowledged there was a basement at all when he asked). So it didn’t take long for him to get bored.

Sweet knew he shouldn’t complain, and he didn’t! Not out loud, at least. It was a lot better than when he didn’t have a house; back then, he didn’t have anyone to play with, and he didn’t have regular meals, and he didn’t have other changes of clothes, and he didn’t have any protection from stuff like Virovirokuns or maice. He could deal with a little loneliness, especially when he had so much other stuff that he hadn’t had before.

Then again, he didn’t really have the time to worry about loneliness back then.

He never brought it up to Queen or Tasque Manager or anyone, but apparently they noticed anyways, because after almost a month of him living there, Queen decided to send him and Swatch out to the Cyber Fields for a ‘vacation day’, but she was too busy to go with them. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but Queen saying ‘Go Make Lots And Lots Of Friends While You’re Gone’ was what really tipped him off.

And he tried, he really did. The Cyber Fields were really fun and were so much different from the City. Swatch didn’t seem to like it very much, but he never said anything and took Sweet wherever he wanted to go, so Sweet figured it was okay. Actually making friends, though, was harder than it sounded. He met a lot of people, like the Plugboys and some Darkner named ‘Fommt’, but he wasn’t ever able to ask to be friends before they had to go somewhere.

He’d been thinking about giving up when he met them.

Swatch was busy buying CD Bagels from a vendor, leaving Sweet to wander aimlessly. He didn’t really know where he was going; he just wanted to walk around.

He eventually found a place that looked a lot like a trash dump, except it looked like someone had been trying to build something with the trash. He walked around, picking up a piece of ‘junk’ about half his size and examining it. It looked like a broken engine… maybe he could–

“Hey, what’re you doin’ with our stuff?” A voice yelled from behind him, startling Sweet enough to almost drop the engine. He tightened his grip at the last second, preventing it from crashing towards the ground and breaking even more as he turned around.

A Darkner with a cassette player for a head pointed at him… angrily? It was hard to tell, because he was wearing sunglasses, as well as a blue jacket that looked a little too big for him with a white shirt and black pants. Behind him stood a taller Darkner who had a CD player for a head, wearing a black jacket and green pants.

“Sorry,” Sweet apologized, putting down the engine with care. “I didn’t know this stuff was yours. I was just looking.”

The Darkner huffed, but he stopped pointing at Sweet. “Well, it is. But I guess it’s okay if you didn’t know.” He crossed his arms. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Sweet,” Sweet replied, fiddling with his fingers now that there was nothing in his hands. “What’re your names?”

The other jabbed a finger at himself and the monster behind him. “I’m Cap’n, and that’s my older brother Cakes,” he informed, then grinned. “And this is our shop!” He gestured around the junkyard. “Or, it’s gonna be. We’re working on it.”

“You can just call me K_K,” the other monster spoke up. “It’s short for Cakes!”

Sweet waved. “It’s nice to meet you two,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cap’n waved a hand, walking over to Sweet. He stopped just in front of him, pausing. “So where’re you from? I’ve never seen you in the fields before.”

“I’m from the City,” Sweet explained, pointing out towards where you could just barely see the city’s large buildings over the horizon. “I’ve never been to the fields before.”

Cakes, who’d stayed behind, tilted his head and spoke again. “Really? What’s the city like?”

“Big,” Sweet said with a nod. “ Really big. And blue. And there’s lots of lights everywhere. And it’s super noisy.”

“We barely get any noise in the fields,” Cap’n complained, moving to sit on a pile of junk. “The only people who ever wanna make any noise are me ‘n K_K!”

Sweet looked down at the engine he’d set by his feet. “Sometimes I feel like it’s too noisy,” he muttered. “I can’t even hear myself over it, sometimes.”

“That sounds like it sucks,” Cap’n replied, picking up a piece of junk and messing with it. “Especially since you’re a speaker ‘n all.” Sweet just nodded, and Cakes started to pick up some junk too, tweaking some of its parts. Sweet tilted his head. “So you guys are making a shop… out of the junkyard?”

“Yup,” Cap’n replied. “No one ever does anything with the junk here in the fields, so me ‘n K_K decided to turn it into a shop where we can build things and sell music!” “The music’s free,” Cakes added, stacking some junk up in a pile. “What?! Why’re we even gonna play music then?”

Sweet watched them work and talk for a minute, starting to feel a little nervous. “Can I help?” he asked suddenly, causing them to pause. “Build the shop, I mean.”

“Nuh-uh.” “Sure!”

Sweet felt his spirits fall and lift at the same time, which was a confusing feeling.

Cap’n whipped his head around to look at Cakes. “K_K! This is our thing!”

Cakes shrugged, putting another box down. “So? We can let him help too. It’ll go faster that way.”

Cap’n opened his mouth, but paused, closing it again. “That’s true,” he muttered, looking at the ground. Then he looked back at Sweet. “Are you any good at building stuff?”

Sweet blinked. “Um, I think so. Sometimes I fix robots for fun?”

“See?” Cakes said, giving Cap’n a look. The latter stuck his tongue out at Cakes, before looking back at Sweet.

“Fine, you can help. But don’t expect us to pay you!” Sweet beamed. “I won’t, thank you!”

They spent the next hour talking and working on the shop, getting to know each other. Cap’n told him that his name was short for something, but he wouldn’t tell him what. Cakes told him about everything to do in the Cyber Fields, including the unfinished roller coaster. Sweet told them about playing with the Swatchlings in Queen’s mansion; which had sparked a whole new topic of conversation.

“Woah, you live in Queen’s mansion?”

Sweet nodded in answer to Cap’n’s question, soldering a few pieces of junk together (no, he was not going to question where they got the soldering iron). “Yeah, I met her a month ago and she gave me a name and then let me stay in her house ‘cause I didn’t have one! She’s really nice.”

“Huh,” was Cap’n’s response. He set down a CD bagel he’d been munching on (apparently Cakes was really good at making them). “So she’s like your mom?”

Sweet blinked. “What’s a mom?”

“It’s a grown-up that takes care of you who’s usually a girl,” Cakes answered, pushing around a broken toy car instead of helping. “Vroom vroom.”

“Oh.” Sweet paused to think about it. “Maybe. I’ll ask her when I get back.”

A loud, somewhat shrill voice suddenly pierced through the air, shrieking Sweet’s name. It took a minute for Sweet to recognize the voice (both from its high pitch and the fact that it made his ears hurt), but once he realized it was Swatch’s voice, he set down the soldering iron. “Sorry guys, I think I gotta go.”

“Aw, really?” Cap’n whined. “But I wanted to hear more about Queen! She must be a very fine madimoyselle!”

“A what?” Sweet muttered, confused, but shook his head. “Sorry, but I really do have to go.” He winced as Swatch’s unusually high-pitched voice rang out again. “I don’t wanna get in trouble or something.”

“That’s okay,” Cakes said, putting down the toy car. “You can tell us more next time.”

Sweet brightened. “Next time? Y’mean I can come back?”

“He can?” Cap’n asked incredulously, but paused when Cakes gave him a look. “I mean, sure. Yeah, you can come back ‘nd help some more. And tell us all about Queen!”

“Okay! Thanks, guys!” Sweet beamed. “I’ll see you…” he trailed off for a second, but quickly moved on, “Whenever Queen lets me come again!”

“See ya later then, Sweet!” Cap’n waved with a grin.

Cakes waved too. “Smell ya!”

“Bye!” Sweet waved back at them both, skipping out of the shop. He got to come back, and they were even letting him help work on the shop!

Did this mean he had friends now?

Sweet was jolted out of his thoughts when he suddenly bumped into a tall figure. He looked up, only to be met with the panicked and stern face of Swatch.

Oops.

— — —

Despite the fact that Swatch had initially gotten onto him for running off, he did seem happy that Sweet had made friends. Even if he got a funny look on his face when Sweet had mentioned meeting them in the junkyard. Still, he let Sweet rant about it the whole way back, and didn’t even stop him once they’d gotten back to Queen’s mansion.

Queen herself had been glad to hear that Sweet had made friends too! Or, he thought so, anyway. Sometimes it was hard to tell what she was feeling.

He mentioned that they’d said he could come back sometime, and asked if Queen would let him. She seemed hesitant at first for some reason, but eventually they worked something out: Sweet could go once a week as long as he got all of his studies done before mid-afternoon. Sweet agreed readily; even if school wasn’t fun, at least it was easy! And that meant he got to see his friends again!

Right before Queen was about to send him off to dinner (she couldn’t join ‘cause of a meeting, apparently), Sweet paused, remembering something. “Hey, Queen?”

Queen hummed in response, not seeming to really be paying attention. “Yes Sweetie Pie?”

“Are you my mom?”

Queen froze, and for the first time since he’d met her, her visor went totally blank. Weird. “Haha Sweet That’s A Good Question How About You Go Help The Swatchlings With The Maice Okay Bye.” She walked away suddenly, leaving Sweet feeling very confused.

Especially since they’d gotten rid of the Maice problem over a month ago. There was always a chance they’d come back in the seven hours he’d been gone though.

— — —

Going back to the Cyber Fields to help Cap’n and Cakes (or K_K, as he kept insisting Sweet call him) with the shop quickly became the highlight of Sweet’s weeks. He never thought he’d find people who liked building and music as much as he did, and it was awesome! The only bad part about it was when Sweet had to leave.

They bombarded him with questions about the City every time they saw him (although Cap’n’s were mostly related to girls), and he asked just as many about the Cyber Fields. They always made it sound so nice that he thought they had loads of friends, but to his surprise, they just shrugged and said they didn’t when he asked how many.

“I think everyone’s just intimidated by our coolness,” Cap’n had explained, K_K nodding along. Sweet found it hard to disagree; Cap’n and K_K were pretty cool.

“So is Queen your mom?” Cap’n had asked another time, to which Sweet had just shrugged.

“I dunno. She dodges the question every time I ask.” Literally, too. She’d jumped in the acid pool to get away.

“Bummer.”

They asked him that a lot, Sweet realized; Cap’n most of the time, but K_K asked every now and again if Queen was his mom yet. It made him wonder…

“Who’s your mom?” Sweet asked as he took a screwdriver to a particularly stubborn screw. The question made Cap’n and K_K pause, glancing at each other before looking back at him.

“We don’t have one,” Cap’n replied, messing with a pair of headphones. “We live in the orphanage,” K_K added, eating a CD bagel while drawing with his other hand.

Sweet paused. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Why? It’s not your fault,” K_K asked.

“Yeah, and it’s not like you’ve got a mom either,” Cap’n shrugged. “We’re all momless. Unless Queen really is your mom.”

Sweet shrugged too. “I can keep asking, but I don’t think she’ll answer.”

Despite the ‘heavy discussion topics’ (That’s what Swatch called them, anyway), visiting Cap’n and K_K was always his favorite part of the day. He started talking about them so much that Queen even decided to let him visit twice a week! Life was going really well for him, better than it had for his whole seven years of existence.

Things didn’t stay that way, though.

— — —

Sweet was thirteen when he first started hearing Queen talk about someone called ‘The Knight’. He wasn’t sure what that meant or who that was, but once he started pestering enough, Queen eventually told him that the Knight was a Lightner, come to enlighten their great City.

Sweet was excited at first (Lightners were what gave them purpose, right?), but as Queen began talking about the Knight more and more, she started spending less and less time with him. So did Swatch and Tasque Manager, with their responsibilities practically being doubled. Even the Swatchlings only ever helped him with chores and studying anymore; the rest of their time was spent serving Queen and the Knight. He wasn’t sure why the Knight needed so much of the staff, but it wasn’t his place to ask.

At least one good thing came from this, though, and that was the fact that he got to hang out with Cap’n and K_K pretty much every day! As soon as his studies were finished (or sometimes even before; Queen didn’t notice much anymore), a Swatchling would take him down to the Cyber Fields to visit their junk shop. It was fully built now, and Cap’n and K_K had started selling CD Bagels out of it. They let Sweet help too, and he even got a cut of the profit (despite him vaguely remembering that Cap’n said he wouldn’t)!

He even got to have sleepovers if Queen was too busy to send a Swatchling to pick him up! Like right now.

“Why’d you run away from the orphanage anyway?” He asked, settling into the blanket pile they’d made on the floor. They didn’t have any beds, but that was fine; Sweet was still used to sleeping on the concrete (or cardboard, if he was lucky), and the big pile of blankets was much more fun than a regular bed anyway.

“‘Cause it sucked,” Cap’n deadpanned, leaning back on the blankets with his arms crossed behind his head. “None of the kids liked us ‘cause of my fingers and K_K’s…” he gestured at K_K, who was busy rearranging some of the blankets. “Y’know. And none of the adults were able to help. They didn’t even try, sometimes.”

“Oh…” Sweet muttered. He stared up at the ceiling, his soul twisting for them. “You know… if you guys wanted to come live in Queen’s mansion with me, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Cap’n scoffed. “You kidding? First of all, I don’t really wanna go anywhere near that place if that ‘Knight’ you keep talkin’ about is around,” he started, K_K nodding along as he too laid down in the blankets.

Sweet rolled his eye. “They’re a Lightner, Cap. It’s like, the best thing that’s happened to us in… in ages .” He tried to mean it, but it still felt like a lie coming out of his speaker.

“Yeah yeah,” Cap’n waved a hand. “Second of all, though, livin’ it up in her fancy mansion… as fun as it sounds, it’s not really me ‘nd K_K’s style, y’know?”

“My style is funky tunes,” K_K agreed.

“And like heck we’re abandoning the junk shop,” Cap’n added. “We built this thing with our own bare hands!” “And soldering irons,” K_K said.

“Well, duh, but you get the point!” “I get it, I get it, jeez,” Sweet said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t wanna make you abandon it anyway. I helped build this thing too, y’know.”

“So we’re at an agreement!” Cap’n huffed. “You go live in Queen’s big fancy castle and we’ll stay in our junk shop.” Sweet pulled the blankets up over himself. “When you say it like that, it makes me feel bad,” he murmured.

“Don’t,” K_K said with a shrug, pulling other blankets over himself and a squawking Cap’n. “You’re happy in the mansion. We’re happy here.”

“Oh… okay.”

The three lapsed into silence after that. Sweet stared up at the now barely visible ceiling; it got a lot darker in the Cyber Fields than it did in the City. It should have made falling asleep easier, but instead, Sweet found himself unable to power down. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable (which was already hard enough with his box-shaped head), but what K_K had said was really getting under his circuits for some reason.

He was happy at the mansion, he was. He was definitely happier there than he’d been on the streets, so that had to count for something, right? In her mansion he had food, a bed, nice clothes… it was his first real home, so he should be happy there. And he was.

Or, he had been.

As he turned his head to look at the two next to him, he wasn’t sure he was anymore.

It made him feel ungrateful, but… he hadn’t talked to Queen in person in a long time. He saw Cap’n and K_K much more often than he saw Tasque Manager. He talked to them about what was going on in his life much more than he’d told Swatch in quite some time. He’d played more games with them than he could ever remember having played with the Swatchlings.

He stared at the (supposedly) sleeping forms of Cap’n and K_K. He was… happier with them than he was at Queen’s mansion.

Was it possible to have two homes?

“Hey guys,” he said, suddenly having an idea. Whether or not it was a good one remained to be seen. “Are you guys awake?”

“Yes,” K_K spoke up, causing Cap’n to groan and stir.

“I am now ,” he grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Whaddaya want?”

“We should form a band.”

Silence for a moment.

“Well duh, that’s why we made the shop, isn’t it?” Cap’n deadpanned, flopping back down onto the blankets. “Let me go back to sleep.”

“I wanna do it now,” K_K replied, sitting up to look at Sweet. “Can I be a keyboard?”

Sweet blinked. “Do you mean play a keyboard, or do you actually wanna be a keyboard?”

“Yes.”

Cap’n groaned, rolling over to give Sweet a half-hearted glare. “Fine, we’ll talk about it now,” he muttered, sitting up again. “Don’t know why you two couldn’t wait until mornin’, you maniacs.”

“I can be the DJ! I’ve been working on a special turntable, too!” Sweet said excitedly, before pausing. “Wait, I thought you guys made the shop to sell CD Bagels.”

“Yeah, and music, remember?” Cap’n muttered with a yawn. “So obviously we were always gonna make a band.”

“Oh, right.” Sweet nodded, but paused again. “But wasn’t that just gonna be yours and K_K’s thing?” He hesitated. “Is… is it okay if I’m there?”

Cap’n and K_K both stared for a bit.

“Sweet, you helped build the shop,” K_K said. “You were always gonna be part of the band.”

“...Oh.”

They eventually started talking about who’d do what, and how they’d advertise their band, and what they’d name it. They stayed up almost the entire night, and yet the whole time, neither Cap’n nor K_K said anything about the fact that a tear would fall from Sweet’s eye every now and again.

— — —

The band’s start was pretty rough. They advertised it as much as they could, but there weren’t enough people in the Cyber Fields who really cared about music enough to come to their concerts. Even when they handed out flyers while selling CD Bagels (which they always sold a LOT of; K_K really did make the best food), the only person who ever came to their performances was an overly-enthusiastic Plugboy who couldn’t even make it to all of their shows.

It was nice that at least one person really liked their music, though. Which made Sweet feel kinda bad for what he ended up suggesting.

“Playing in the city? ” Cap’n scoffed, packing up his box of CD Bagels (not that there were many left). “You’re outta your mind, Sweet. We’ve never been to the city; they’d crush us out there!”

“I don’t wanna be a soda can,” K_K agreed, his own box already under his arm.

“Come on, guys,” Sweet groaned, folding up his own cardboard box as they started to head back. “I know it’s big and daunting, but I really think we’d find a bigger audience there! Plus, I could be your guide!”

Cap’n kicked the door of the shop open with a grunt. “You, our guide? Sweet, you’ve not lived on the streets of the city since…” He paused in the doorway, causing K_K to bump into him. “Sorry K_K. But still, it’s been what, five, six years since you started livin’ in Queen’s mansion?”

Sweet rolled his eye as they all filed into the shop. “Just because I don’t live on the streets anymore doesn’t mean I don’t remember anything about them. Plus, I still live in the City . I don’t just spend all my time in the mansion, y’know.”

“I think you spend most of your time here, actually,” K_K piped up, which, yeah, that was a fair point. Sweet spent so much time at the Cyber Fields that sometimes he’d forget he lived in the city until a Swatchling came to pick him up.

Still, he didn’t want to back down from this, but he didn’t know how he’d be able to convince the two of them to try playing in the City. Unless…

“Hey Cap,” he said as he closed the door. “Don’t you think it’d be cool if we met some ladies while we were performing?” Cap’n froze. “Sweet, no.”

“I’m just sayin’, the City’s full of girls who’d love to hear us play.” “I’m not fallin’ for that, Sweet.”

“I could probably even get Queen to listen to one of our concerts.”

Cap’n whirled around, pointing finger guns at Sweet. “Well why didn’t ya say that sooner? It’s a deal.”

K_K, who’d just been staring for the entirety of the interaction, frowned. “I’d rather stay in the Cyber Fields,” he muttered.

Sweet patted his arm. “The Cyber Fields are good and all, but don’t you think it’d be nice to find people that actually appreciate our music?” he asked. “Plus, I bet I could get Swatch to give you some recipes from the Color Cafe.”

K_K hesitated, thinking it over for a moment before sighing. “Okay,” he said. “Can we still play in the Cyber Fields sometimes though?”

“Of course!” Sweet nodded. “We still have to sell CD Bagels y’know! We’ll just play more music in the city.”

“Just for the madimoyselles,” Cap’n added. “And K_K’s recipes.”

Sweet rolled his eye. “I don’t think that’s how you pronounce it, but sure.”

— — —

Just as Sweet had predicted, their music was a hit in the City. Within fifteen minutes of the first place they tried (which they did ask permission to play at before performing), Darkners were coming out of stores and pausing in their walks to listen to their music. Which didn’t surprise Sweet in the slightest; despite the fact that Cyber City had all of the most famous music artists and songs playing in almost every store, it could be hard to actually hear the music over all the traffic, Addisons, and general noise of the City.

Luckily, Sweet Cap’n Cakes had gotten really good at being loud.

Their concert was pretty short, mostly meant to gauge the interest of the people there, but way more people stuck around until the end (ten whole Darkners!!), and some even asked for their flyers by the time they were done!

There were still a few… complications though.

“Watch out, K_K!” Sweet and Cap’n pulled on K_K’s arms, yanking him away from the street just as a torrent of cars flooded through. Sweet and Cap’n both flinched back, but K_K tilted his head as he stared out at the traffic.

Cap’n glanced up at him in worry. “You alright, K_K? You didn’t get hurt, did ya?”

“Do you think she’s single?” Sweet blinked in confusion. “What?” K_K pointed at one of the pink cars, crawling at a snail’s pace compared to the rest of the traffic. “Do you think she’s single?” he asked again.

“...That’s a car, K_K.”

“Yeah.”

Crisis temporarily averted, they moved on, looking for another place that would allow them to perform. They’d gotten unfortunately delayed by a lot of traffic, so most business turned them down as evening descended on Cyber City.

Sweet sighed as they walked out of yet another store that refused to let them play in front of their shop. “Sorry guys, I really did think we’d get more listeners out here…” He scuffed his shoes on the ground as he walked. Cap’n shrugged. “Eh, it’s no big deal. Plus, we did get a lot more people than normal! We’ll just come out earlier next tiIIME-” Cap’n suddenly dodged out of the way, pulling Sweet and K_K with him. Sweet was confused until a Viroviriokun rushed past, closely followed by an Ambyu-lance. Sweet’s system heated in embarrassment; he was supposed to be the one leading them around the city, and he didn’t even notice the Darkners coming.

K_K straightened up, grabbing Cap’n and Sweets hands to pull them away from the oncoming crowds. “There’s a lot more viruses out here than in the fields,” he mumbled.

Sweet winced. “Yeah, sorry I forgot to warn you guys about that.”

“So that’s normal? ” Cap’n brows raised so high that they were visible above his sunglasses. “And you lived in this?”

Sweet shrugged as the three of them started walking. “I mean, yeah, but I didn’t really stick around these parts,” he explained. “And besides, I wasn’t out there for too long before I met–” He froze, then face-palmed. “Sorry, guys, I completely forgot to ask Queen if I could bring you over to the mansion…”

Cap’n shrugged. “Eh, it’s fine. You can ask later and we’ll just see her next time.” He moved away to avoid a passing Addison. “Preferably somewhere that’s not crawlin’ with viruses and Maddisons.”

“Addisons,” Sweet corrected.

“Potato, potahto.”

Sweet sighed. “Whatever. I’m still sorry I forgot to ask, though. Maybe I can–” He didn’t finish the thought as he bumped into something, yelping as Cap’n and K_K steadied him. The three of them looked up at the figure they’d run into. A Swatchling looked back down at them– or rather, down at Sweet. They blinked, and in a monotone voice, spoke up over the crowd, “Queen requests your presence back at the mansion.” Sweet gulped; lately, whenever Queen called for him herself, it was because he was in trouble one way or another (not that he ever really got any consequences, but Queen being disappointed in him never felt good). He hesitated, looking back at his friends, when an idea struck him; a way to fulfill his earlier promise to Cap’n and K_K and also maybe not get in trouble. He tilted his head at them, a silent question. It took a minute for them to get it, but once they did, they both nodded excitedly.

He looked back at the Swatchling. “Can my friends come too?”

— — —

Bringing Cap’n and K_K in to meet Queen had been circuit-wracking. He knew that realistically that Queen wouldn’t mind —she never had before, after all— but that hadn’t stopped his soul from pounding loudly in his chest as he introduced them; so loudly he almost thought that it could be heard from his speakers.

Judging by the lack of comments on it, that probably wasn’t true.

He’d say it went pretty well, though. Even with Cap’n calling Queen ‘hot mama’ (Sweet heated up so much his speakers nearly cut out) and K_K talking about various objects he wanted to be (which, surprisingly, was a topic that Queen seemed to actually be invested in), Queen seemed to like his friends.

Well, like might have been a strong word. She’d only gotten harder to read since the Knight came alone.

Still, his hopes of no longer being in trouble were dashed once K_K and Cap’n left. This time, it was because he’d forgotten to tell her that he’d even be going to the Cyber Fields and then the City at all today, which was fair. What he didn’t think was fair was the punishment she gave.

“I’m grounded? ” He asked incredulously. “For how long?”

Queen waved a dismissive hand. “Oh Don’t Worry, It’s Just For One (1) Month In Total,” she replied, swirling a glass of battery acid. Which was weird, because last he’d checked, Swatch had banned her from having battery acid in Sweet’s presence (or in Tasque Manager’s presence; she got iffy about alcohol).

But he didn’t focus on that. “But why? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I kinda thought you’d know already. Since, y’know, I’m always at the Cyber Fields these days,” he huffed, muttering the last part before continuing at a normal volume. “Isn’t a whole month kind of excessive?”

“No, Because I Actually Wanted You Here For Something Today,” she said, crossing her arms. Her smile didn’t quite drop, but something about it seemed more… stern, than normal.

He perked up a little bit at the sentence, though. She rarely ever wanted him for things anymore, so hearing that she actually needed his presence today was… comforting, in a way. “Really? Why’d you need me?”

She sniffed, which was weird because she didn’t have a nose. “The Knight Was Here Today,” she responded, a weird undertone in her voice. “They Wanted To Talk With The Two Of Us About Something: Important. And To Actually Meet You Or Whatever.” She did frown then, looking down at him. “I’m Very Disappointed In You, Sweet.”

Usually, hearing that Queen was disappointed in him would make him wince. It’d make him feel guilty for whatever he’d done that was wrong, or whatever he’d done to upset her. He’d apologize, and then she’d send him off to his room for an hour or so to ‘Marinate Like Spaghetti Sauce’.

But things were different, this time.

He stared at the ground, and instead of wincing, he clenched his fists. Instead of feeling guilty, he felt angry. The first time she’d actually ‘wanted’ to spend time with him in nearly six months, and it was only because of the stupid Knight? And she was grounding him over it, even though the Knight was at the mansion practically every other day? And she’d had plenty of opportunities to introduce the two of them, but the only time it’d ever crossed her mind was when the Knight themself mentioned it? She didn’t even care enough about him to introduce him to the Lightner that gave them meaning on her own?

Sweet knew that he was supposed to love Lightners. That Lightners were what gave every single Darkner a purpose. But in that moment, he didn’t think there was anyone he hated more than the Lightner who’d stolen all of his mom’s Queen’s attention and care.

He almost hated her for letting them.

“Are you kidding me?!” he blurted. “You only wanted me here because of the Knight!? You’re only grounding me because of the Knight!? You only noticed I was even gone because of the stupid , STUPID KNIGHT!?”

The yell that came from his speakers was so loud that the paintings on the walls shook. The nearby tasques shrieked and ran away from the sound. The maice that had once again infested the palace since the Knight’s arrival skittered away from the noise. Queen’s visor went entirely blank, and yet Sweet couldn’t bring himself to care over the anger he felt at it all; at Queen, at the Knight, at the whole palace, at the entire city.

“ You haven’t talked to me in person in weeks! I barely ever see you or Swatch or Tasque Manager anymore! I rarely ever even get to see the Swatchlings! I spend more time at the Cyber Fields than I do at the mansion! Sometimes I have to spend the night in the Fields because you forget to pick me up! You forget to even send someone! And it’s all because of the Knight! It’s because of the STUPID F##KING- ”

“Sweet,” Queen interrupted in a low tone, halting his rant. Instantly, all of the rage and aggression he’d been feeling bled out of his circuits, quickly replaced by an icy fear. “Go To Your Room.”

Sweet stammered, suddenly frozen in place. “I-I... I-I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean-”

“I Wasn’t Asking, Sweet,” Queen said, voice colder than he felt. “Go To Your Room. Now.”

Sweet didn’t have to be told twice, tripping on his own feet as he ran out of the room.

— — —

Oil dripped from his eye, dropping into his second speaker, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care as his body, curled up on his bed, shook with sobs. He couldn’t believe he’d said all of that. He couldn’t believe he’d actually sworn at her. He couldn’t believe he’d yelled so loudly at her. He hadn’t even realized that he was so upset about everything, but the more he thought about it, the more it hurt.

She hadn’t even refuted anything he said. She had watched with a stone-cold face as he listed out all the ways she (and the Knight) had hurt him, and then she’d dismissed him to his room. Maybe that meant she already knew how much it affected him, and she just didn’t care. The thought made him sob harder.

A knock on the door sounded out, and that was the only warning he got before the door clicked open. He froze as he heard the sound of heels on the metal floors, thinking it was Queen, but the purrs that accompanied the steps gave away that it was Tasque Manager.

He sat up and hurriedly wiped the oil out of his eye, knowing how much she hated disorder and uncleanliness. She didn’t seem to mind this time though, as she sat next to him on the bed despite the fact that the bed was unmade. He slept in it so little that there was hardly ever a reason to fix it.

“I heard your fight with Queen,” Tasque Manager said gently. “Well, everybody heard it; your speakers got quite loud.”

Sweet winced, his systems heating up in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to yell so loud…” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his legs.

“But you did mean what you said.”

Sweet hesitated, but nodded.

“That’s fair,” Tasque responded, “and Queen is sorry that you’ve been feeling that way. We all are. However, there’s a lot at play that you don’t know.”

Sweet looked up, curious.

Tasque Manager sighed. “The Knight, although we dare not speak ill of them,” she gave him a pointed look, to which he cringed, “has been keeping everyone very busy as of late. They’ve been filling Queen in on many matters; both the issues of the Dark World, and of the Light World. Many such matters have required a large amount of listening ears. However, the matters discussed are quite heavy, and not so… children-friendly. Queen has been sending you to the Cyber Fields to shield you from our... honestly bleak future, but the Knight insisted that it was time for you to know today. When we couldn’t find you, the Knight was… displeased. They have since been delayed for quite a few months.”

“Oh,” Sweet muttered, now feeling pretty guilty. So Queen did have a good reason to be upset at him; he’d practically driven the Knight away by… not showing up? I’m

“That isn’t all, though,” Tasque Manager continued, cutting off his train of thought. “We…” She sighed, and then she looked at him sadly. “We really are sorry that you’ve been feeling this way, and that we haven’t done much to help. But…” she sighed again. “When we couldn’t find you today, Queen was genuinely… distraught, to say the absolute least. We were all worried, of course, but Queenie was nearly frantic in our search for you; in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so panicked. Or heard her worry so much for someone else’s safety.” She laughed at what was apparently supposed to be a joke, but it quickly tapered off, and she coughed before continuing. “I must say, she showed a remarkable amount of self-control while your friends were present. And even more so after you yelled at her.”

Sweet winced, now feeling ten times worse than before. She really did care, she really had been worried about him, and what had he done? He’d gone and shouted at her so loudly that the entire mansion could hear, and he’d been so wrong about everything. He was so stupid.

“I don’t blame you for lashing out,” Tasque Manager spoke, apparently having sensed his line of thought. “It’s clear now that you were dealing with a lot of pent-up emotions, and we failed to notice when we should have. For that, we are truly sorry.” She paused for a moment, and then added: “Queen doesn’t blame you either.”

At that, Sweet looked up, a spark of hope in his chest. “Promise?” His voice felt small; it almost reminded him of his first days here.

Tasque Manager smiled at him comfortingly. “I promise.” She stood, smoothing out her dress. “Queen has requested that you stay in your room for the time being, to give you time to rest up before dinner.”

Sweet nodded, honestly grateful that he didn’t have to see Queen again so soon after fighting; he didn’t know if he could take the shame. A thought occurred to him as Tasque Manager walked to the door, and he hesitated before calling out her name. “Hey, Tass?”

She paused in the doorway, turning back to him. “Yes?”

“Can you ask Queen if she can send a Swatchling to the Cyber Fields? To let my friends know I’m grounded.”

She smiled. “Of course. I’ll see what I can do.” With that, she shut the door, leaving him to get some rest.

— — —

Dinner that evening was… extremely awkward. For one, it was the first dinner he’d eaten at the mansion in… well, at least a month. Secondly, for the first time in even longer, everyone was actually at the table; Sweet, Swatch, Tasque Manager, the Swatchlings… even the Tasques got to eat in the same room.

And, of course, and most importantly, Queen.

No one spoke for the first fifteen minutes of the dinner. Although the dinner itself was pretty good, with heaping servings of Spaghetti Code being the main dish, premium Butler Juice (or ‘Butt’ juice, as Sweet and Queen used to snicker to themselves) being the beverage, and CD Bagels for dessert (Sweet couldn’t help but compare them to K_K’s. He really liked those bagels), but the tension was so thick that Sweet found it hard to enjoy the dinner in front of him. Apparently, everyone else did too.

The first time any of them spoke to each other, it was Tasque Manager asking Swatch about how business at the Color Cafe was going; apparently, the Knight was taking up everyone’s personal time.

Things were a little smoother sailing after that. Sweet still didn’t talk much, but then Swatch asked him about Cap’n and K_K, and suddenly he was talking about everything he’d been doing with them over the last year; having finally finished the junk shop, selling CD Bagels with Cap’n and K_K, starting their band… there was some stuff he didn’t tell them though, like the fact that they’d both run away from an orphanage, or the fact that none of them ever had anything good to say about the Knight; he stuck to the smaller details, like how K_K was really good at baking and cooking, and how Cap’n was super bad at flirting.

That was when Queen had joined that particular conversation, attesting to Cap’n’s terrible pick-up lines. It was a really stilted conversation at first, but after half an hour, everyone was talking and laughing with each other, just like old times.

Just like the times before the Knight came

He cut off that particular train of thought.

He even managed to confirm with Queen that she’d send a Swatchling to the Cyber Fields, and after they’d all finished dinner, she took him down to the acid pool to ‘Just Hang Out’, while the others took care of dinner. He was still too young to go in the acid pool, so he just watched her float around on a donut tube as he swung his feet over the acid.

They talked for hours, just catching up. She told him about all the trouble she’d gotten into, he told her about how he’d made his own turntable that could fly. She suggested that he get into building as a side job, with how good he was at it, and he said he’d think about it.

It was during a lapse of silence that he remembered a question Cap’n had asked him once; one that he’d asked Queen multiple times. He hadn’t bothered to ask since he was ten, but he was feeling… curious, maybe, and wondered if it was worth the risk of losing time with her just to see if he could get an answer.

He hesitated for a while, but eventually, he blurted, “Queen, are you my mom?”

She froze, in the same way she had back when he first asked, and he quickly backtracked. “Sorry, that was a dumb question, I shouldn’t have asked, I’m really-“

“I’m Your Legal Guardian,” she answered, cutting Sweet off in the middle of his rant. “But I Suppose If You Want To Call Me: Mom, Then You May.”

Sweet blinked several times, moving to speak several times, only to stop himself. “Oh,” was what he ended up saying.

They didn’t talk about it again after that.

— — —

The rest of the month that he was grounded went by much the same. He was still extremely bored by being stuck in the mansion all day, but at the same time, it was nice to have things back to… mostly normal. He was able to hang out with Swatch in the Color Cafe, he helped fix paintings with Tasque Manager, he played Minecrap with Queen, he played games with the Swatchlings… he even got them to tell him about that one closed-off guest room, previously having belonged to someone named Spamton G. Spamton. They didn’t tell him much about it, but from what he did hear, he was glad they didn’t tell him more.

They still wouldn’t acknowledge the basement, though. Bummer.

Despite all of this, he still found himself missing Cap’n and K_K. He missed hanging out in the shop, he missed playing music with them, he missed selling CD Bagels, he missed eating K_K’s CD Bagels, he missed bantering with Cap’n, he missed having sleepovers… he even missed performing for the one singular Plugboy who bothered to listen out in the Cyber Fields.

That was why, the second he was un-grounded, the first thing he asked to do was visit Cap’n and K_K. Queen agreed, sending a Swatchling to go with him, and he was practically bouncing the entire way there.

He spotted them selling CD Bagels at their boxes, and his soul lifted. “Hey, hey guys!” he yelled, jumping and waving.

The both of them paused, turning to stare at him. After a moment, Cap’n scoffed and turned back to the customers, while K_K gave him an uncharacteristically small smile before doing the same.

Sweet blinked, confused by their reaction, but figured they were probably just too busy serving customers to talk at the moment, so he sat down to wait.

He didn’t have to wait too long, because the lines were pretty short, so as soon as the last Plugboys was out of view (with no other Plugboys arriving), Sweet hopped up and bounded over to them. He stopped right in front of their boxes, soul once again lifting in delight.

“Hi guys!” He chirped with a wave. K_K gave a small wave back, but Cap’n scowled at him.

“What do you want,” he muttered, harshly shoving leftover CD Bagels into the box.

Sweet blinked rapidly, taken aback by Cap’n’s aggressive attitude. “Wha- what do you mean, what do I want?” He asked incredulously. “I was just saying hi.” He looked at K_K. “Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys, I-”

“And who’s fault is that?” Cap’n snapped, closing his box so hard it was nearly crushed in his grip. K_K followed suit, but handled his box with much more care. “What, did you come back to rub it in?”

Sweet blinked once more, now thoroughly confused and feeling a terrible sinking feeling in his circuits. “Rub what in?” He asked, bringing his hands up to grab his arms. “I-“

“Oh, nothin’,” Cap’n cut him off sarcastically, “Why don’t we all just pretend that you don’t think you’re better than us, huh? That everything’s just fine and dandy, that you didn’t just totally ditch us once you remembered how nice it was to live with Queen?” He threw his hands up in the air, a sardonic grin on his face. “That sounds like so much fun!”

“What are you even talking about?!” Sweet exploded, throwing his own arms up in the air in genuine confusion- and now a little anger, too. “What do you even mean?”

“He means because you don’t want to be friends anymore,” K_K said quietly.

Sweet froze, a horrible feeling settling over him like the crash of a wave. “Huh- what? ” He sputtered. “Why- why would you think I didn’t wanna be friends anymore??”

“Why wouldn’t we think that?!” Cap’n yelled, kicking his box of CD Bagels. “You go totally radio silent for almost a whole month, and then when we finally get ahold of one of those ‘Swatchlings’,” he put his fingers up in mock quotation, “the guy says that they’ve never heard of ‘mAStEr SWeEt’ having any friends! Especially not from the ‘Cyber Fields’! They didn’t even know our names!” He yanked the sunglasses off, his glare now on full display. “So yeah, it’s pretty f##king obvious just how much you care about us!’

Sweet- didn’t know how to respond to that. His whole body felt cold, like someone had just dumped an entire gallon-sized bucket of ice water on top of him. It almost even felt like he was about to start glitching out in the same way that getting water in his circuits would do to him. “I-I- that’s- that’s not-“

“Whatever,” Cap’n scoffed, muttering under his breath. “It must’ve been real nice to go home and remember that your wittle ‘mommy’ cared about you.”

And just like that, the ice turned to fire. He had no idea what was going on. He had no idea why they thought he didn’t care about them. But Cap’n just insulted Queen. He’d just insulted the one person Sweet was actually sure cared about him anymore.

He didn’t think about what he said before he said it. He just knew he wanted it to hurt.

“At least I actually have a mom, #sshole.”

Sweet slapped a hand over his speaker. Cap’n froze. K_K dropped his box.

The heat of his anger melted away, only to be frozen solid. He couldn’t even say it felt like ice; it was so, so much colder than that. Every circuit froze up, every system stopped responding, each of his speakers went dead silent, and even his mind felt like it’d been frozen in place.

It was so, so cold.

Cap’n abruptly picked up the box again. Sweet struggled to find his voice. “Cap-“

Cap’n didn’t stop, whirling around. Sweet practically begged. “Cap- Cap, wait, I-I’m- I’m so-”

“Go f##k yourself, Sweet,” Cap’n deadpanned, not even bothering to turn back. “Clearly, she never should have named you that in the first place.” He marched off into the distance until Sweet was staring despairingly at nothing.

After a few moments of silence, K_K bent down to pick up his own box. Sweet looked at him, pleading. “K_K, I’m- I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry-”

K_K stood at his full height, Sweet’s voice catching in his circuits. K_K wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry. He looked profoundly sad. Quietly, he said, “I think you should go home, Sweet. Cool off.” With that, he turned and followed after Cap’n, only glancing back at Sweet once before he too disappeared from Sweet’s sight.

Sweet didn’t know how to tell him that he was already freezing.

— — —

His trip home felt like it took eons. The Swatchling sent to accompany him barely spoke the entire time, leaving Sweet to swim around in the icy water of his thoughts. He might as well actually be frozen in ice; with how slowly he moved and the way his hands trembled, he didn’t think he’d be able to tell if he suddenly was.

No one was there to greet him when he arrived through the front door. He couldn’t bring himself to feel angry about it, or upset, or even resigned. He just felt cold.

He didn’t bother trying to make it to his room; he knew if he did, he’d just end up collapsing on the floor to sob. Instead, he made his way to the Color Cafe and dragged himself into one of the plush chairs inside. Swatch wasn’t there.

No one was in there, he realized belatedly, and he vaguely wondered where they all went. He couldn’t bring himself to get up and find out.

Hours passed in the cafe, or maybe it was just minutes; at the moment, Sweet couldn’t tell the difference. Nevertheless, after some amount of time, he started hearing voices fill the mansion’s lobby. Swatchlings started filing in, not even seeming to notice his presence, and not even five minutes later, Swatch himself walked in, pausing next to Sweet’s chair.

“Oh, hello young Master,” he greeted. “How was your day?”

“Where was everyone?” Sweet mumbled in lieu of an answer. He didn’t bother trying to put genuine curiosity in his voice; he knew it wouldn’t come out any differently no matter how hard he tried.

Swatch didn’t seem to notice Sweer’s numbness. “Ah, well, that’s the exciting part,” he replied, feathers fluffing as he smiled, “The Knight is coming back sooner than expected! In just two weeks, to be exact.”

“Oh.”

Sweet found himself even colder, somehow.

— — —

He spent almost the entire first week holed up in his room. He had sobbed, once he’d gotten there, and since then he had barely stopped sobbing. It’d gotten to the point where he started vomiting oil instead of crying it, which was almost a better alternative to the constant tears. No one ever came to check on him except for the stray Swatchling every now and again, who would usually just come to leave food in the room.

They never seemed to notice that he barely ate it.

He tossed and turned every night, unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eye, his mind would replay the argument, repeating his words back st him over and over and over. Every time he left his eye open, he’d get colder and colder and colder.

He left his room in the middle of the second week, practically in a haze. He ran into Queen, who barely gave him a greeting before rushing off. Before she could leave his sight, a question he hadn’t even realized he’d been thinking about fell out of his speaker:

“Did you ever send a Swatchling to let Cap’n and Cakes know I was grounded?”

Queen paused, fully stopping in the hallway. After a minute, her visor switched to LMAO. “Oh No I Totally Forgot About That Lol.” She laughed, then walked away.

That was when he broke.

It was already late in the evening, but Sweet didn’t care. He didn’t care that it was dark already, he didn’t care that most people were sleeping by now, he didn’t care that it was definitely too late to ask Queen for permission, he didn’t care that he’d probably get grounded again.

He left.

He didn’t run, not at first. He walked through the mansion’s hallways, down into the lobby, and out of the palace doors. He passed multiple Swatchlings on the way out; none of them tried to stop him.

As soon as the doors closed behind him, that was when he ran.

He ran past the Addisons trying to sell him products he’d never use. He ran around the Virovriokuns spreading their viruses into the air. He ran faster than the Ambyu-lances on their way to fatally-wounded patients. He ran past the blue, he ran past the few lights still on, he ran into the dark, he ran through the dark. He ran all the way out of the city.

He ran into the green of the Cyber Fields, into a darkness much more prevalent but much more soothing than that of the city’s. He ran past the houses of the sleeping Plugboys, past the few Virovirokuns that lived out here, past the unfinished roller coaster. He ran past the place the boxes used to be, he ran past the place the Hacker lived, he ran past the green, green, green.

He didn’t stop running until he reached the shop. Their shop.

He froze in front of the door, ice running through his limbs yet again. He warred with himself, wanting to knock and being wholly afraid of the prospect at the same time.

Just knock.

I can’t.

You can.

They hate me.

Just knock.

If I knock, they’ll just tell me to get lost.

Just knock.

They’ll throw me away, just like everyone else.

Just knock.

I can’t do it.

You can.

I can’t knock.

You have to.

I can’t.

You can.

I can’t knock.

JUST KNOCK.

His hand was rapping at the door before he’d even realized which side won.

Immediately, he froze. He shouldn’t have knocked, he should have left, they’ll hate him, they’ll toss him out, he shouldn’t have knocked, why did he knock, why did he-

The door opened, and Sweet was equal parts relieved and horrified to see that it was K_K at the door. His breath caught in his circuits as the taller monster rubbed his eyes with a yawn before looking down, blinking when his eyes landed on Sweet. “Hello-?”

“I’m sorry!” Sweet burst into tears, sobbing hysterically and clutching his arms tightly in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it but it was still so bad to say, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m such a terrible friend, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-!”

He was cut off suddenly by long arms wrapping around him. He flinched, but realized when K_K knelt down that it wasn’t to hit him or shove him away; it was a huh.

“I forgive you,” K_K said.

Sweet took a deep breath, before breaking into sobs once again. He wrapped his own arms around K_K, clutching him tightly as he sobbed oily tears into his chest. He cried and sobbed and screamed, and K_K didn’t let him go or throw him away; he knelt there, and when Sweer’s legs buckled and he collapsed into sobs on the ground, K_K fell with him, and Sweet sobbed into his shoulder.

They’d been sitting that way for a while before Sweet heard a groan from inside the shop. K_K turned his head, and Sweet froze, oily tears still running down his face, as Cap’n stumbled into the doorway, looking worse for wear himself.

“Who’s makin’ so much noise at-” he cut himself off as he noticed Sweet sitting there. He glared, before he paused and suddenly looked unsure. “Uh… what-”

“I’m so sorry,” Sweet blurted, hiding his face in K_K’s shoulder again. “I’m so sorry I said that to you, that was so horrible, I’m so sorry I said that, and I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t wanna be friends, and-“

“Woah, hey,” Cap’n cut him off, and Sweet chanced a glance at him, only to see Cap’n looking extremely uncomfortable. “I, uh… Man, I don’t know how I could just not forgive you, when you’re cryin’ like that…”

Sweet shook his head vehemently. “Don’t forgive me,” he said, hiccuping on another sob, “don’t forgive me if it’s- if it’s just ‘cause you feel bad. You shouldn’t forgive me, I’m a terrible friend, and I’m so, so sorry I messed up so bad-”

He was cut off (again) by Cap’n joining the hug, slouching against K_K and Sweet. “‘S too late for this,” he muttered, and Sweet thought that maybe he could hear tears in Cap’n’s voice as well, “we should go inside.”

“In a minute,” K_K replied, shifting his grip to hold both Cap’n and Sweet tightly. Neither of them tried to argue.

— — —

A minute ended up turning into thirty, but none of them complained. Sweet was actually pretty sure that Cap’n complained more once K_K deemed them ready to go back inside, but those protests were also short-lived once the three of them crashed onto K_K’s bed (Sweet didn’t know they’d gotten beds) and almost immediately fell asleep, still curled up in a hug and holding each other tightly as consciousness faded away.

That was how they woke up the next morning, all tangled around each other. Things were super awkward, especially between Sweet and Cap’n, but K_K just got up and made pancakes, chatting about random stuff he and Cap’n had done while Sweet was gone.

Breakfast itself was quiet, even though none of them were actually eating. Cap’n was nudging the pancakes around on the plate, K_K was sitting with his hands folded while looking off to the side, and Sweet stared at his plate, unable to bring himself to so much as touch the food.

“Sweet?” K_K spoke after several minutes of silence. “Are you okay?”

Sweet hesitated, folding his hands under the table. “Why are you even asking me that?” he muttered, willing himself not to cry again. “You should hate me.”

“Tough sh#t,” Cap’n deadpanned, coughing when K_K gave him a disapproving look. “‘Cause we don’t hate you,” he continued, “but we’re still pretty pi- ticked off that you ditched us for apparently no reason.”

“He’s trying to ask you why you left without saying anything,” K_K explained. Cap’n opened his mouth with a sputter, but paused and then nodded with a sigh.

“I was trying to have a little more tact, but yeah.”

“K_K was more tactful than you,” Sweet murmured as he twisted his hands together. He went quiet for a moment, hesitating. Most of him wanted to try to explain, but a small part of him whispered that they wouldn’t like what he had to say, that they’d say he didn’t try hard enough, that they’d kick him out if he said anything. It was almost enough to keep his speakers quiet.

But they wouldn’t do that. He knew they wouldn’t. K_K had forgiven him just last night, before he’d explained anything at all. He should explain; he wanted to explain.

So he did.

He told them about how he’d been grounded, how Queen had promised to send someone to let them know, about everything that’d happened while he’d been gone— about how he missed them. They told him stuff too; like how they’d gotten concerned when he didn’t show up for a week, how they’d gone to Cyber City by themselves to look for him, how the Swatchling they met had said they’d never heard of Sweet having friends in the ‘Cyber Field’ (and this time, Sweet didn’t miss the negative undertone of the words), how they’d waited for him to come back and say it wasn’t true for a week before losing hope… Cap’n begrudgingly admitted that he’d ended up fully believing that Sweet didn’t care about them anymore, while K_K had still held out hope that it was all a misunderstanding.

They all pointedly didn’t talk about the fight. That was fine with Sweet; he’d been forgiven and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“So when’re you gonna go back?” Cap’n asked a while later, all three of them lounging on the couch and listening to a radio station playing electro swing. At Sweet’s flinch, he hurriedly added, “Not that we want you gone! But like, are you sure you’re not gonna get grounded again for this?”

Sweet shrugged from where he laid against K_K’s left side, with Cap’n on K_K’s right. K_K had his arms wrapped around both of them; a gesture neither complained about. “Maybe, but I doubt it,” he replied. “She only got upset last time ‘cause I messed up things with the Knight.” He paused with a wince as he remembered what Tasque Manager had said about Queen being worried, but he was now more sure that it was more about the Knight than it was himself, so he continued. “Plus, I doubt she even realizes I’m gone.”

Cap’n snorted. “Yeah right,” he said as he leaned back against K_K. “You only left in the middle of the night and still haven’t showed up by morning. She’s probably flipping right now.”

Sweet stifled a snicker at the mental image (although Queen literally flipping out didn’t sound too out of character for her), but stared at the ground. “She’s only talked to me, like, once in the past whole week. She’ll probably only wonder where I am when the Knight comes.”

“She hasn’t talked to you in a week?” K_K asked, tilting his head. “I thought she was your mom.”

Sweet hesitated. He’d thought so too, but with everything that’d happened (why did the Swatchling pretend they weren’t his friends?) , he wasn’t sure anymore. “She… said I could call her mom, but I’m not sure she considers herself my mom.” He wrung his hands together. “But her not talking to me for a week is pretty normal, ever since the Knight showed up.”

“That sucks,” Cap’n hummed sympathetically, to which Sweet just shrugged. “Still though, she’s gotta have noticed that you’re not in the mansion at all anymore, right? Or someone’s probably noticed, at least.”

“I doubt it,” Sweet replied, feeling bitter for a second before he squashed it down. “They don’t usually notice stuff like this; otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten away with nearly as many sleepovers.”

There was a pause. “I thought that was just the first time,” Cap’n said, something strange in his voice.

“Yeah, didn’t they know about all the sleepovers?” K_K added.

Sweet shrugged. “I mean, maybe they figured it out eventually,” he replied, “but most of the time it was just because they’d forgotten I was in the Cyber Field.”

No one spoke for a few moments. Sweet looked up questioningly, only to freeze when he saw the concerned looks on his friend’s faces. A mix of unease and defensiveness washed over him, and he added, “Okay first of all, it was for the Knight, okay? I mean…” he hesitated. “I didn’t– I don’t like that they forget about me sometimes, or– or just ignore me in the hallway, but there’s a lot to do whenever the Knight arrives, so it makes sense that they’re busy.”

“Too busy to remember that you were gone? ” Cap’n asked incredulously. “Dude, that’s like– seriously messed up. They shouldn’t just forget that you existed!”

“I think that classifies as child neglect,” K_K added, no less incredulous than Cap’n.

Sweet scowled, part of him wanting to defend Queen and everyone even as another part of him quietly wanted to agree. “But it’s for the Knight,” he argued, and then before he could think about it, “And it’s not like the orphanage treated you better; they treated you worse .” His brain short-circuited, and he froze as he realized what he said. “I– I’m sorry,” he stammered, pulling his legs up to his chest, “that was unfair of me.”

There was silence for a few moments before K_K spoke. “It was, but it’s okay.” He paused, then amended, “Well, no, it’s not okay, but I forgive you.”

Cap’n sighed, and the tension Sweet hadn’t noticed before bled out of his shoulders. “Yeah, me too,” he muttered.

That was the second time they’d forgiven him, in less than twenty-four hours.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, oily tears welling up in his eye. “I’m sorry I’m such a bad friend. I really don’t deserve you guys, or Queen, or Tasque Manager, or Swatch, or anyone–”

K_K pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around him tighter. “Don’t say that about yourself,” he said quietly. “It’s not true.”

Sweet sniffed, willing the tears to not fall from his speaker. They really were too nice for him. “Yes it is,” he muttered, wiping at his eye. “I keep being awful to you and Cap, I yelled and swore at Queen, I’m being ungrateful towards everyone in the mansion, and I can’t even get it through my big, stupid head that the Knight is ten times more important than I’ll ever be.”

“Shut the f##k up,” Cap’n growled, startling Sweet. K_K hugged him tighter while giving Cap’n yet another disappointed look. Cap’n ignored it as he continued, “First of all, you swearing at Queen is bad#ss. Second of all, f##k the people in the mansion! Sure, they took you in when you were younger, but that doesn’t change the fact that now , they’re treating you like sh#t. Third of all, and most importantly,” Cap’n paused to clamber over K_K (who noticeably said nothing about the multiple swears) and practically threw himself on top of Sweet, who let out an ‘oomph’ at the impact. “I don’t care about some dumb fancy-pants Knight. Maybe Queen and her cronies don’t think you’re important compared to the Knight, but I don’t care. You’re important to me. You’re important to K_K. Don’t you dare say otherwise ever again.” He hugged Sweet tight, although Sweet had the feeling that that wasn’t the reason he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“What he said,” K_K added, hugging the two of them tightly. “You’re important to us. You’re both important to me. I don’t care what you do or say; there’s nothing you can do that’ll make me stop caring about you, and there’s nothing you can do that’ll make you unworthy of love.”

Sweet’s resolve to not cry crumbled, and as the three of them sat there in a group hug, he could’ve sworn he felt tears from the other two fall onto him as well.

Sweet knew by now that it was possible to have two homes, but he thought it’d be okay if he just had this one.

— — —

He still went back to the mansion the next day, despite Cap’n and K_K’s reservations. He explained to them that one, he still lived in the mansion, and two, he was legally Queen’s… ward? Ward or child. Still, this meant that she was still in charge of him, and he really didn’t want to get grounded again. They eventually agreed, but only after they made him promise to come back the next day, and said that if they didn’t hear from him in a week, they’d go to Queen’s mansion and break him out themselves, whether he wanted it or not.

He didn’t mind that in the slightest.

Cap’nhad shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot as he’d been getting ready, rubbing the back of his head while K_K stood nearby. “Hey, uh…. I’m sorry for assuming the worst after you got grounded,” he’d apologized. “And for swearing at you so much yesterday. Even if you kinda deserved that last part.”

Sweet had paused. “Oh, uh. I forgive you?” He’d already forgiven him, to be honest, but he was also so used to being the one apologizing that hearing someone else say it was uncanny.

“I’m sorry too,” K_K had added.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, K_K.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were hurting when I should have, and for not taking action to help you.”

Sweet’s breath had caught in his throat. Despite the fact that K_K shouldn’t be taking any responsibility for that, it still felt nice to hear. It was reminiscent of Tasque Manager’s apology, but it felt…. different, somehow.

“That wasn’t your fault, K_K. But if it helps you feel better, I forgive you.”

They’d all hugged goodbye, taking an unusually long amount of time due to them not really wanting to be separated, but eventually they’d let go, and Sweet headed back to the mansion alone. He tried not to miss Cap’n and K_K the whole way there.

Although once he got to the mansion, missing his brothers? friends? friends was somehow both the last thing on his mind and at the forefront of it.

The palace was in disarray, with Swatchling’s running amok and carrying different materials. Tasques prowled around the place as though they were going to pounce at any moment, and the maice that had been so bold before now skittered back to their hiding spaces in the walls. He was pretty sure he heard Tasque Manager in the Color Cafe and Swatch yelling frenzied commands at the Swatchlings.

The only person who seemed unaffected by the chaos was Queen, who stood at the bottom of the steps, surveying the lobby as she drank a glass of battery acid.

No one spoke to or acknowledged Sweet in any way as he ducked and dodged through the traffic, trying to make it to Queen to figure out what the heck was going on. They didn’t even seem to notice him when he accidentally tripped one of them up, just stepping around him like he wasn’t even there.

Once he made it over to Queen, he hesitated. What if she had noticed he was gone and got angry at him?

Still, he was already right there, so it’d be kinda hard to sneak away now. So instead, he cleared his throat and asked, “Queen, what’s going on?”

She didn’t respond for a few moments, and only seemed to notice him when he repeated the question. She looked down at him with the biggest smile he’d seen on her, and yet nothing about it looked genuine. “Oh Lol Hey Sweetie Pie, You Just Missed The Knight.” She took a sip from her battery acid.

Sweet froze. “The— The Knight? But I thought they wouldn’t be here for a few more days.”

Queen shrugged. “They Got Here: Early.” She took another sip from her battery acid and didn’t say anything for a few moments. Just as Sweet considered walking away, she added, “Oh Wait Sweet There’s Something I Have To Tell You.”

He paused, a feeling of apprehension coming over him. “...yeah?”

“I’m Going To Ban All Music Lol. Except Noise Music And Reverse Diss Tracks.”

“...What?”

“I’m Going To Ban All Music Lol. Except Noise Music And Reverse Diss Tracks,” she repeated, downing the last of her battery acid. Then she suddenly threw it on the ground, glass shattering with a loud crash. Sweet flinched away from the shards that went flying, but the Swatchlings didn’t even seem to notice what had happened; instead, they just stepped on and over the shards of glass, not a care for the mess or potential injury while they had other tasks to do.

“The Knight Said I Should Ban Like; All All Music, But I Decided I Still Wanted To Listen To Music I Like, So I Only Banned: Most Of It.” She laughed like it was the funniest joke she’d ever told.

Which was what this all had to be; a joke. There was no way she was actually doing that; why would the Knight even say something like that? “You can’t be serious,” he said slowly, waiting for her to come out and say that it was a joke.

Instead, her visor shifted to ???. “Why Would I Not Be Lmao.”

Sweet blinked. Then blinked again. Then blinked some more. “You— you can’t just ban all music!”

“Most Music,” she corrected, “And Actually I Literally Can Lol.”

“I’m literally in a band!”

“Will You Only Play Noise Music Or Reverse Diss Tracks?”

Sweet sputtered. What even was a reverse diss track? “No??”

“Then You Can’t Be In A Band,” she stated simply.

Sweet froze. He couldn’t be— but he had to. They were a trio; Sweet Cap’n Cakes. He couldn’t just not be in the band. And he was literally a speaker; playing music was his whole purpose. “What if I just play other music anyway?”

She tilted her head. “I Would Have To: Ground You.”

“Over playing music in a band?”

“Yes.”

Sweet gaped. This was genuinely the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Well— I’m gonna do it anyway!” he blurted after a second. “I’m gonna go be in the band, and I’m gonna play whatever songs I want, and you can’t stop me!”

Queen laughed. “I Literally Can Lol.”

“No you can’t-!”

— — —

Turned out she very much could. All she had to do was order a Swatchling to bring him to his room and tell him he was ‘indefinitely grounded’.

He’d tried to get out as soon as the Swatchling had left the room, but the door was somehow locked from the other side. Had she switched the locks while he was gone? Or did this happen while he was grounded the last time?

He tried to kick the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried to get the doorknob off, but it didn’t move. He even looked around his room that could get him out through his second-story window, but all he could find were two different outfits that were definitely not going to be enough.

After he tried (and failed) to escape for thirty minutes straight, he sat down on his bed, head in his hands as he thought. He couldn’t get out of the room right now ; anything that might have helped him escape before, he’d taken to the junk shop at some point and hadn’t brought it back. The room was nearly bare of any personal belongings by this point.

Except for one thing.

Sweet’s gaze slid over to his dresser. The toy robot, the one Queen had found him fixing all those years ago, stood there, untouched. He hadn’t used it since he was at least twelve; he’d thought he’d outgrown playing with toys.

Now he might not get to use it ever again.

He tore his eye away from the robot, looking back at the door. He couldn’t escape right now, but maybe when the Swatchlings came back to feed him (they would, right? They wouldn’t just forget he was there) , he could slip past them and get out.

— — —

The first time a Swatchling came to bring him a meal (which was dinner, supposedly), he didn’t try to escape; instead, he ate the meal and went to bed, so that when he did try to escape, he’d have the energy to do it.

It was hard to fall asleep, though. He stayed awake for hours before he managed to doze off.

At breakfast time, he’d tried to dash out of the room while the Swatchling was putting the meal on the dresser, but he’d been quickly grabbed and deposited on his bed before the door had been locked again. He’d tried to hide behind the door and slip out at lunch, but an additional Swatchling had caught him and brought him back in his room. He tried to hide under the bed to confuse the Swatchlings at dinner, but all they did was leave the food there and lock him in the room again.

The next day passed much the same way, although he did get close once at lunch when he set up a contraption to drop his other two outfits on the Swatchlings to distract them while he ran. Unfortunately, he’d been caught and brought back by Swatch himself, and when dinner came around, three Swatchlings had been added to the first two, making escape practically impossible.

He’d been pacing in his room for the past hour when he heard a knock on his window.

He swung his head around, only to freeze when he saw Cap’n’s face staring back at him. His soul lifted as he rushed over to the window, and he yanked it open. “Cap! How’re you even-?”

“Shhhh!” Cap’n shushed harshly. “There’s tasques prowling around everywhere; me ‘nd K_K barely got in!” A quick glance down revealed that K_K had extended his upper body all the way up to the window, with Cap’n sitting on his shoulders.

“Sorry,” Sweet whispered, then paused. How did they even know he was grounded? He remembered now that they’d said they would break him out if he didn’t show up for a week, but it’s only been two days, so… “How did you guys know to come get me?”

Cap’n huffed. “Just get out here! We’ll explain later when we’re not at risk of gettin’ our butts beat by Queen!”

Sweet nodded and began to climb out the window, then paused. “Give me a sec, I’ve gotta get something,” he whispered, then tumbled back into the room, ignoring Cap’n’s exaggerated groan. He grabbed the toy robot from the dresser, never to be left behind again. He ran back up to the window and climbed onto the sill. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Finally!” Cap’n whisper-shouted, then held his arms up. “Okay, I’m gonna grab you, and then K_K’s gonna slowly bring us all down.” Sweet looked at Cap’n dubiously. “Are you even strong enough for that?”

“Shut up and get out here, Sweet.”

Sweet nodded, slowly lowering himself out the window, and to his credit, Cap’n did manage to grab and hold him, even if Sweet felt his grip slipping every other second.

“I didn’t know you could extend your limbs that far, K_K,” Sweet whispered as K_K slowly started to lower the three of them to the ground.

“Neither did I!” K_K whispered with a grin. “We were gonna kidnap a Swatchling if this didn’t work!”

Sweet blinked. “Wait, you were gonna what-?”

He cut himself off with a yelp as Cap’n suddenly let go, only to be caught by one of K_K’s arms. He scowled as he jumped out of K_K’s arm, just as Cap’n jumped off of his shoulders. “What was that for?” he whispered.

Cap’n breathed deeply, leaning over with his hands on his knees. “Sorry,” he wheezed, “I didn’t realize how heavy you are.”

Sweet narrowed his eye. “I’m not that heavy.”

“Yeah, he’s not that heavy,” K_K added.

“Just shut up,” Cap’n groaned, standing up straight. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

That, all three of them could agree on.

— — —

The three of them collapsed on the couch nearly the second they made it back, the adrenaline from sneaking in and out of Queen’s mansion bleeding out of their systems. The only thing Sweet had done before letting himself sit down was check to make sure his turntable was still in the junk shop’s back room– which it was. After that, there was nothing to stop the three of them from sinking to a heap on the couch.

As Cap’n mumbled at K_K and tried to shove him off, with K_K refusing to let go of Cap’n or Sweet, Sweet just sighed, sinking into the couch with relief.

“So how’d you guys know to come and get me?” Sweet mumbled, causing Cap’n and K_K to pause. “It hasn’t been even close to a week yet.” Cap’n shrugged, struggling to sit up with K_K holding him so tightly. “We got the announcement that Queen was banning music this morning,” he explained, giving up on trying to escape K_K’s grasp and flopping back down against the couch. “We already knew that you weren’t gonna take it well and that Queen fu- freaking sucks, so we just decided to go early.”

“Oh,” was Sweet’s reply, and he gripped K_K’s arm almost as tightly as K_K was holding him. “...thank you.”

Cap’n just hummed with a nod, leaning back against K_K. Everything went quiet for a moment, before Cap’n spoke up again. “So what’re we gonna do now? Can’t exactly be a band if we can’t play any music.”

“Unless we only ever play noise music,” K_K pointed out. All three of them shuddered at the thought.

Sweet stared at the ground, thinking hard. Cap’n was right; all of the music they’d written was banned. They literally couldn’t play any of their songs anywhere unless they wanted to get in serious trouble.

But he found that he didn’t really care so much. Playing music with Cap’n and K_K was the happiest he’d ever been, and he’d loved music even before Queen took him in. Abandoning music would practically be abandoning himself; and it almost felt like abandoning Cap’n and K_K too, even if it was only their band. And again, he was literally a speaker; the words ‘never play music’ in that specific order weren’t in his vocabulary.

Besides, he would probably already be in trouble for breaking out of the mansion while grounded anyway.

He stood up suddenly, K_K’s grip having loosened during the silence. The two of them exchanged a look, but he ignored it as he looked for an RCA connector cable. “Sweet? What’re you doing?” Cap’n asked, sitting up.

“I’m gonna go play music,” Sweet said firmly, finding the cable he was looking for.

“What?” Cap’n and K_K yelled at the same time. Cap’n jumped off the couch, K_K not far behind. “I don’t know how you already forgot, but we were literally just talking about the fact that we can’t play music anymore,” Cap’n added.

“I don’t care,” Sweet snapped as he stalked off to the back room and walked up to its door. “I’m getting my turntable and I’m playing music as loud as I can from my speakers.”

“You’re going to get in trouble,” K_K warned, grabbing the doorknob before Sweet could reach for it.

Sweet rolled his eye. “I’m already gonna be in trouble, K_K,” he replied, glancing between him and Cap’n, who crossed his arms.

“You’re gonna get in more trouble,” Cap’n amended. “And we just busted you out of Queen’s mansion. Do you really wanna go back and get to find out what the dungeons there feel like?”

“Queen’s mansion doesn’t have a dungeon,” Sweet muttered, but shook his head. “But that’s not the point. I need to play music; I’m literally a speaker .” He pointed at Cap’n. “And aren’t you a cassette player?” He pointed at K_K. “And you’re a CD player. You guys need to play music even more than I do.”

Both Cap’n and K_K hesitated at that. “We can handle going on nothin’ but noise music,” Cap’n replied, but it sounded unsure.

“For how long?” Sweet asked, crossing his own arms. “How long are you gonna be okay with playing nothing besides noise music or a ‘reverse diss track’? We don’t even have many noise music songs; how long are you gonna be able to play the same four songs on repeat, for the rest of your lives?”

K_K and Cap’n shared a wary glance. “It’s better than getting in trouble, though,” K_K said hesitantly. “She might not have a dungeon, but I don’t want to know what she’ll do to enforce that law.”

“The law we’re not even gonna be able to follow?” Sweet asked incredulously. “Can both of you honestly say that you’re gonna be able to go for the rest of our lives playing nothing but noise music? Playing nothing but the same four songs over and over?”

Neither of them said anything for a moment, seemingly wanting to look anywhere except at Sweet. After a minute, K_K spoke, “Sweet, is this because of the music, or does it have something to do with Queen herself?”

Sweet frozen. He hadn’t quite considered that, but it was a real possibility. He did feel bitter towards Queen; he felt bitter towards everyone in the mansion. Maybe even everyone in the city. Maybe this was all an attempt to get back at Queen, for everything she’d done to him.

But everything she’d done to him included taking him in when he had no one.

And it wasn’t just about her, either. It was about the fact that he was made to play music. It was about the fact that Cap’n and K_K were made to play music. Music was a part of them, even more than it was for him. He could handle playing a myriad of different things from his speakers, even if none of them made him want to dance the way music did, but Cap’n and K_K would have practically nothing.

“I think it might a little,” Sweet said slowly, “but it’s also about the three of us. We’re the Sweet Cap’n Cakes; playing music is what we do . And it’d be that way even if we weren’t a band.” He tapped his foot on the ground. “And it’s not just about music either. If Queen’s gonna decide to be as petty as to ban something like music she doesn’t particularly enjoy, what’s to stop her from banning other things too? Like- like staying out too late, or being able to sell CD Bagels, or crossing the road without a permit, or–”

“‘Crossing the road without a permit’?” Cap’n deadpanned. “And being able to sell CD Bagels? That’s taking it a little too far.” “And banning music isn’t?” Sweet retorted, Cap’n quickly shutting up. “You think it’s crazy, and that’s because it is crazy, but we also think that banning music is crazy, and what’d she do? She banned music! She banned music when some of her own subjects were literally made for making music! She’s already taken things ‘a little too far’. What’s to stop her from going further? Are we really supposed to just lie down and take that?”

Neither of them answered him for a moment, just glancing at each other again. After a minute, Cap’n sighed. “So what, you’re in your rebel phase or somethin’?”

Sweet sputtered. “It’s not a phase!” he snapped, before pausing as Cap’n snickered and K_K grinned. “No, no do not laugh at me that is not what I meant–” he paused again. “But, well… kinda.”

“So you’re having a phase?” K_K asked.

Sweet groaned, shaking his head. “No, it’s– not about the phase part, I meant the ‘rebel’ part.” He put his hand on the doorknob that K_K had stopped paying attention to, pushing the door open. “Queen’s banned music, and if she can get away with that, what else can she get away with? So we should show her that she can’t get away with it, that we’re not just gonna let this happen. So- so let’s be rebels! Let’s be a resistance against Queen’s stupid laws!” He gestured at the turntable.

…

“That was so overdramatic,” Cap’n deadpanned, but then grinned as Sweet sputtered. “But I get what you’re saying; and to be honest, I don’t really like the thought of playing noise music for eternity.” He popped his knuckles, walking over to the turntable and hopping up onto it. “Plus, I’ve got a few other bones to pick with Queen myself. Even if she is a madimoyselle.”

“That’s definitely not how you pronounce that,” Sweet muttered, before looking up at K_K, who seemed unsure. “Cakes, c’mon. You can’t seriously tell me that you’re okay with what she’s doing.”

“I haven’t been okay with what she’s been doing since the time you first came back to the Fields,” K_K said plainly, but still hesitated. “I don’t want things to get worse for you.”

Sweet looked down, feeling guilty, but more determined at the same time. “...And I don’t want things to get worse for you and Cap.”

K_K stared at him for a few moments, eyes searching. Sweet wasn’t sure for what, exactly, but it made him feel uneasy all the same. “Okay,” K_K said eventually, Sweet’s spirits lifting, “but just music. And nothing that’ll get us in too much trouble; we’ll just play the songs we like and that’s it.”

“Deal,” Sweet stuck his hand out, and with a small smile, K_K shook it. The two of them turned towards the turntable. “Now let’s get out there and– Cap don’t you dare touch that I will actually kill you!!!”

— — —

Embarrassingly, Swatch didn’t notice that Master Sweet had managed to sneak away until the next dinner, when he’d accompanied the other Swatchlings to bring him his meal. The window was wide open, but nothing resembling a rope was hanging from it, so Master Sweet had almost certainly had help– most likely, his two friends from the Cyber Fields.

According to the Swatchlings, the room had been empty the entire day, but they had figured he was hiding under the bed again and thought nothing of the open window. Swatch had half a mind to fire them right then and there, but ultimately, that decision would be up to Queen.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t where Swatch’s trouble ended. Shortly after the discovery, Swatch caught wind of a video of three protestors of the music ban vehemently opposing Queen’s new law and defending themselves against Queen’s new Werewires. He had a sinking feeling that Master Sweet was involved in this, which was proved to be correct once he actually watched the footage. The video itself was quickly trending, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Queen saw it– if she hadn’t already.

He decided that the best thing to do would be to tell Queen about this, hopefully before she came across it herself. So after submitting a request to see her (which was immediately granted, as all requests sent from Swatch or Tasque Manager were), he made his way to her bedroom/office/whatever was most convenient for her at the moment and knocked on the doors.

As he waited for her to open the door, he had to squash down a lot of feelings of apprehension. Her Majesty the Queen was rarely in the wrong, but he could not, for the life of him, understand the music ban that she’d set into place. Especially when her surrogate son was part of the subsect of Darkners created to produce music.

However, it was the Knight’s will, and the Knight was only wrong as often as Queen was. If Queen saw it fit to listen to the Knight’s advice to set this ban in place, so be it.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the door suddenly opening, although Queen was not directly behind it. This wasn’t an odd occurrence, so he walked inside, only to stop short when he saw that she was sitting… in her throne. Which she’d brought in here, for some reason. He shook it off quickly; Her Grace often did things he didn’t understand, but she always had a reason. Even if he never understood those reasons either.

She appeared to be watching something, with her facing away from him, and while he was loathe to interrupt her, she had allowed him in the room, so he cleared his throat. “I have some… unfortunate news for you, Your Grace.”

“Yes Swatch Darling What Is It,” she hummed, her statement sounding nothing like a question. She often spoke with an odd cadence, and even more so when the Knight arrived, so he ignored it.

“Master Sweet…” he hesitated, swallowing, but pushed on regardless. “Master Sweet managed to abandon his grounding at some point yesterday. I and the other Swatchlings deeply apologize for our lack of attention.” He paused, still hesitant, but continued, “Furthermore, it appears he’s joined his friends from the Cyber Fields in… rebelling against you, My Queen.” With that, he snapped his beak shut, bracing himself for her ire.

“Oh Yeah I Know Lmao,” she replied, turning her chair around to reveal she’d been watching the very same video he had; the one that showed Master Sweet sending a volley of attacks at a Werewire.

His blood went cold for a moment, before he realized that she didn’t sound upset at all. “You… are you not bothered by his?” he asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

She laughed. “Of Course Not, He’ll Be Fine.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s Just: A Phase.”

Swatch couldn’t quite keep the disbelief out of his voice. “Just… a phase.”

“Yes, He Is Just Having A Phase,” she nodded, dismissing the video. “Once He Grows Up A Little Bit He Will Realize He Is Wrong And Will Come Back. The Knight Told Me All About It, Trust.”

Hearing that should have put his mind at ease. It should have reassured him that there was nothing to worry about, that there would be few to no repercussions for this development. Instead, it only filled him with a sense of unease and the feeling that something was deeply wrong. “And you’re not worried about him at all? That he’ll get hurt resisting you?” he asked, fighting to keep the apprehension off his face.

She merely shrugged in response. “I Have Informed Every Werewire And Swatchling To Bring Him Back Unharmed, So No.” She waved him off, bringing a new video back up. “Now Shoo, I’m Watching The Latest Season Of: Cyber World’s Funniest Home Videos.”

Reluctantly, he bowed and exited the room, still feeling as though something just wasn’t right. He tried to ignore it as he walked back to the Color Cafe, but something told him that new, terrible things were coming, and that whatever Master Sweet was going through, it wasn’t ‘just a phase’.

— — —

Notes: I hate this a lot. Like, a LOT a lot. If I never have to look at this again it'll still be too soon. But I'm leaving it here anyways 'cause I spent too much time on this to leave it rotting in Google Docs. Also here's the link to the series if you want it (it's not an actual series; it's more of a place for me to dump my SCC-centric fics):

#writing #fanfic #deltarune #deltarune fanfiction #deltarune scc #scc #sweet cap'n cakes #sweet cap'n k k #i hate tagging #i hate this so much #genuinely you have no idea just how much i hate this #even if you hate it you don't hate it more than me

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