#joining the party like a week late but what else is new

[covenofagatha]

Mistakes have been made this afternoon. I have had sake and no food, so fuck it, I'm going to be brave. Agatha/reader, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, degradation, praise, and breeding kink if you are still taking requests.

Of course! And to everyone else who requested a fic, they should hopefully be up soon!

A gala to remember

You're feeling a little neglected by your girlfriend so you take advantage of her unfounded jealousy while at a work event for her

Word count: 2400

Warnings: literally pure filth, semi-public sex, girl penis Agatha, cum, creampie, blowjob, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, breeding kink, I think that's it

There’s not enough appetizers at the fancy annual gala for the company your girlfriend works at to make you stop being mad at said girlfriend. 

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to try though. 

You’re on your second shrimp cocktail when Agatha comes over to where you’re standing and tightly grabs your arm. 

“Come over here. And put that down,” she hisses in your ear and drags you across the room. You yank your elbow out of her grasp and deliberately pretend that you don’t see her scowl at you. 

It has been a week since the two of you have had sex. You can’t blame Agatha, work for her is really busy this time of the year, but she has come home late every single night since Monday and you’ve barely seen her. 

She had been promising all week that on Friday night – tonight – she would be home early and the two of you would make up for lost time. You had even gone out and bought some new lingerie. You missed the feeling of Agatha’s cock inside you and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week. 

Until Thursday morning, before she had rushed out of the house, she had told you that she was expected at the company’s gala the next night and she wanted you to come with her. 

Normally, you wouldn’t mind attending a work event with your girlfriend, but a lot of feelings had become pent up over the week and there was also the fact that she had given you a day’s notice on cancelling the plans she had made. 

So yeah, you were being a bit of a brat. 

And Agatha was fully aware of that, and wasn’t having any of it. 

“You need to behave,” she whispers before the two of you approach a group of co-workers. 

“Or what?” You scoff sardonically. “Not going to fuck me for another week?” 

“Watch me,” she shoots back. And then she plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n.” She introduces you to everyone, three men and two women. You politely shake their hands, barely even looking at them, until you get to the last woman, Rio. 

She’s a little younger than Agatha, her pale skin contrasts beautifully with her golden-brown eyes. She’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, like Agatha, and there’s something about her intense energy that seems to draw you in. 

Speaking of Agatha, she must notice how you’re staring at Rio because she clears her throat and wraps an arm around your waist. 

“Oh, that reminds us, Agatha,” one of the men booms. They’ve been talking about something for the past few minutes but you’ve been zoning out, bored almost to tears. “We need to borrow you for a few seconds upstairs. There’s a contract we need you to look over.” 

Agatha squeezes your waist and you shoot her a pleading look but she’s already leaving with two of the guys. The group disbands and you awkwardly go find an empty table to stand at and eat more shrimp.

Great. Now you’re mad, miserable, and alone. 

Except, maybe not all alone. 

Rio saunters up to the table, holding two glasses of champagne. She hands one to you and silently toasts. You take a sip. 

“Big fan of these parties?” You ask, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has settled over your table. She shrugs noncommittally.

 “They’re good for the company,” she says. “I don’t particularly enjoy parties.” 

You raise your glass to that. “Join the club. I’m only here because Agatha made me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be speaking ill of your girlfriend to her co-worker but you kind of want to vent to someone. 

Rio rests her head on her elbows and her eyes widen. “Agatha Harkness’s girlfriend. What is that like? Is she as much of a boss in the bedroom as she is in the office? Or is she one of those powerful people who submits completely?”

Images and memories of Agatha in the bedroom flit through your mind (she is definitely not the latter) and you choke on your drink, sending you into a coughing fit. Rio chuckles knowingly.

“That’s an interesting question to ask someone you just meant,” you say once you’re finally able to breathe again, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I’m an interesting person,” she retorts with a smirk. You nod in agreement and laugh. 

And that’s when you feel a hand on your lower back and a presence right behind you. You whirl around, afraid it’s some old man, but it’s your girlfriend. 

“Agatha!” Rio exclaims with delight. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

“Excuse us,” Agatha says rudely and grabs your hand to drag you up the stairs of the event center. 

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. “What, Agatha?”  

She doesn’t say anything until you’re past the top of the stairs and she spins you around and shoves you against one of the pillars. You wince at the cold marble on your cheek but you’re quickly distracted by the feeling of Agatha’s body against your back. 

Particularly, her semi-hardened cock. 

“Were you seriously flirting with Rio Vidal?” She taunts right into your ear. “Was that some pathetic play to get me to notice you?”

You want to tell her that no, of course not, you weren’t even flirting and the only reason Rio had come over was because Agatha had left you all alone, but you don’t do any of that. Instead you wiggle your ass against her, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, and ask, “Did it work?” 

She growls and flips you around, forearm coming up to your throat. “Listen to me, little girl,” she says threateningly. “You are mine.” 

“Oh, am I?” You simper innocently. “I must’ve forgotten in the past week while you’ve been too tired to show me.” 

Her eyes flash with something dangerous. “Get on your knees.” 

It makes you falter. “What?” You look around the two of you. There’s no one up on the second floor right now, but Agatha and her co-workers had just been up here a second ago so who’s to say that won’t happen again? You aren’t exactly hidden from view from the people on the ground floor either. 

“Did I stutter?” 

Despite your reservations, you can feel how wet you’re getting and how much you’ve missed having Agatha like this. So you hike up your floor-length gown and slowly drop down to the floor. The tile hurts but you don’t care. 

You reach up to unzip Agatha’s pants and pull her cock out. The tip is already red and leaking with precum and you gasp at the sight, feeling an ache start to grow inside you. 

“Better go fast before someone catches you,” she says, weaving her hand through your blonde hair. You’d like to remind her that if you get caught, she’ll be the one who gets in the most trouble, but she’s right. There isn’t time for that. 

You drag your tongue up the bottom of her cock and swirl it around the tip, getting immense pleasure when she lets out a small groan. You’ve almost forgotten how good she tastes. 

“God, you’re such a good slut for me,” she says. She collects your hair in a pony-tail as you start to bob your head up and down her dick. You can feel it twitch in your mouth and you tease the vein along the side which makes her hips jump. 

You swallow around her and try to push yourself further down. When you get close to gagging, you come back to lick at her tip while your hand strokes your saliva up and down the rest of her cock. 

“You look so fucking pretty with your mouth stretched around me,” Agatha groans. “Fuck, baby, can I use your mouth?”

You nod eagerly, peering up at her through your eyelids. Something about her using you like a toy really gets to you. 

And then you open your mouth wide and let her fuck her cock into you. You really hope the wet sounds you’re hearing are not as loud for everyone else. 

The need to breathe is burning in your lungs and your eyes are tearing up, but you can tell Agatha is close to cumming based on the tightening grip in your hair, the blissed expression on her face, and the way her cock is stuttering on your tongue. You want her to cum all over your face when she suddenly stops and pulls out of you. Air rushes into you and you cough weakly. 

“What?” You ask, a little disappointed. Without answering, she pulls you off your knees and pushes you back against another wall. She parts your dress at the slit and slides a hand through it to cup you over your underwear, smirking triumphantly when she finds you soaked. 

“God, sucking me off where anyone could see like a whore really does it for you, doesn’t it?” She taunts. “So pathetic, baby. So needy. You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been such a brat this whole night, right? You want my attention, my cock in you so bad that this is how you’re acting?” 

Embarrassment colors your cheeks but you hold your head high. Nothing she said was false. “What are you going to do about it?” 

She scoffs and smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to remind you who you belong to, because apparently a little slut like you needs a constant reminder.” She directs you to hike your dress up and she slides your underwear to the side. She positions one of your legs over her hip and without preamble, she thrusts her cock all the way into you. Your head falls back against the wall with a loud moan. 

Agatha clamps her hand over your mouth and stays still. She is filling you up so perfectly, even if it’s been a week since you’ve taken her. The delicious stretch is exactly what you’ve been missing. 

“Please, Aggie,” you whimper and she starts to move, hitting your special spot every time. “Feels so good.” 

“God, you’re taking my cock so well,” she grunts, picking up her pace. Your mouth falls open but no noise comes out. “It’s like you were made for me. So perfect, angel. Such a good girl.” You nod your head and roll your hips with every one of her thrusts. 

“Agatha, oh my god,” you moan, feeling her nails dig into your hips through her dress. You know that she’s close, can feel her throbbing inside you, and you’re not too far behind. 

“Such a desperate slut,” she croons. If there’s one thing about Agatha you love, it’s how quickly and effortlessly she can go from praise to degradation and back. “Needing me so bad, making me fuck you at my work event because a whore like you wants to be filled. Where anyone could walk up here and see how desperate you are for me. I want them to see what a whore I make you into. Especially Rio. Want her to know who you belong to. Fuck, sweetheart. Want me to fill you up, baby?” 

The thought of her spilling her cum inside you makes you clench even more around her cock. You absolutely love the feeling: the warmth, the way it feels leaking out of you, the times Agatha would eat you out after and taste the mix of your wetness with her cum and then kiss you so you could taste it too. 

“Yes, please, Aggie, fill me up, breed me,” you whine, whispering the two words that the both of you only use on special occasions. 

It has the intended effect because a feral look settles in Agatha’s eyes and she fucks into you with renewed vigor, hands gripping you so hard you think you’ll have bruises tomorrow. 

Or at least you hope. 

“Gonna breed you, baby, gonna fill you up with my cum,” she pants, the effort getting to her a little. “Cum all over my cock like the perfect slut that you are.” 

You take a hand off her shoulder to reach down and rub your clit and that little extra spark of pleasure sends you orgasming all over Agatha’s cock. Her hips splutter and she lets out a long sigh before you feel her twitch inside you and then a spurt of warmth fills you. You moan at the feeling, almost cumming again.

She stays in you until she softens and the second she pulls out, she wipes her cock all over your pussy to clean herself off, smearing the mess all over you, and tugs your lacy underwear back into place. You bite your lip at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you and when you take a shaky step towards her, you can feel how drenched your panties are, coated with a mixture of the two of you. 

And now you have to spend the rest of the night like that. 

“I promise I’ll clean you off when we get home,” Agatha says, teasing smirk telling you that her tongue will definitely be involved. You clench around nothing at her words and the images they bring, and you can feel more of her cum ooze out. You’re able to tell that some of it is on your inner thighs and you really hope it’s not visible through the dress. Or on the dress. 

But you don’t have time to worry about that. Agatha kisses you softly and pulls you in for a hug. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you this week,” she murmurs. “I’m all yours this weekend, I swear on my life. I told the guys earlier that if they had a problem, they’d have to figure it out themselves or wait until Monday.” 

You tighten your arms around her, feeling suddenly giddy. “Thank you, baby.”

Agatha reluctantly steps away after a few more moments of holding you close and you miss her body against yours. “Shall we rejoin society?” 

You pretend to think about it for a second until she smiles and then you take her hand. She leads you back down the stairs, her cum still seeping out of you. 

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met in his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and his cock into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[fyrewalkwithmee]

Temptations Pt.1

Early seasons Spencer x roommate reader. NSFW MDNI 18 +++

Part 2

Basically Reid and reader are roommates and are both pining over each other but don't know. Reader catches Reid getting off and kindaaa joins in🤭? Idk just read it.

Warnings: Perv!Spencer, Sub!Spencer, Perv!reader, voyeurism, mutual masturbation (but Spencer doesn't know), descriptions of masturbation both male and female. MOMMY KINK

1.1k words

I'm such a slut for subby, mommy kink early seasons Reid I'm sorry.😫

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

Spencer Reid was a good roommate. That’s what he liked to tell himself when he let his temptations get the better of him. When his throbbing cock was gripped tight in his hand, his head thrown back in pleasure as he pumped himself desperately in order to reach a long-awaited release.

He found it difficult to get himself off while away on a case, always having to share a room with Hotch or Morgan and his mind being too distracted by whatever sick unsub they were trying to catch. When he would return home he would be left with a week's worth of sexual frustration that was only amplified by seeing you, his roommate, his friend and his biggest sexual muse.

He felt terrible for sexualising you when all you'd ever been was kind and supportive towards him. But he just couldn't help it, he was attracted to everything about you. Your outgoing personality, your kindness and understanding, your smile, your body… god your body drove him crazy. He had lost count of all the times you would ask him for his opinion on an outfit before going clubbing with your friends only for him to rub himself raw at the memory of your curves once you had left. Or during movie nights when you would slowly doze off and use his shoulder as a pillow, the scent of your shampoo suffocating him in the best way and making him uncomfortably hard. He would have to excuse himself and go to the bathroom, a pair of your panties in his hand as he wildly stroked his cock while trying to conceal his whimpers and moans. He always felt extreme guilt as soon as he would finish and it only worsened when you would apologise for falling asleep on him knowing that he had a problem with germs and touching. 

He tried to stop himself but it was no use, he knew that like everyone else in his life, you saw him as this awkward, lanky, sexually inexperienced boy and you could never be attracted to someone like that. So he continued fantasying about you because it was the closest he'd ever come to ever being with you or experiencing your non-platonic love. 

Readers Pov

Spencer Reid was a little perv… and so were you.

That's what you discovered last week when you came home late after seeing some friends, being extra quiet to make sure you didn't wake your roommate Spencer who must've been exhausted after flying home from a weeklong case. You turned off all the lights and slowly made your way past the kitchen towards your room, trying your best to navigate the pitch-black apartment. 

You were almost in the clear when you heard a strange sound escape the slightly ajar door of your roomates room. You stopped in your tracks thinking he might be having one of his nightmares and inched closer to his door to further investigate. It was then that you heard it, a strange sound like something wet being moved around quickly followed by breathy whimpers. It took a second for it to click before you realised what you were hearing. 

Spencer Reid your sweet, awkward, innocent roommate was masturbating. Your eyes widened in the darkness as you stood there frozen in place. Your mind was screaming for you to move but something else deep inside you wouldn't allow it, you knew you were attracted to Spencer but didn't think he would ever like you back. You weren't an intellectual like him, you were a loud, outspoken party girl who couldn't even finish a degree before getting bored and swapping to something new. It was entirely perverted but this could be your only chance to witness Spencer being sexual, even if it was with his hand and not you. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a loud desperate whine that sent sparks of arousal shooting right down to your core. You instinctively clenched your thighs to relieve some of the tension and closed your eyes so you could zone in on Spencer's movements and sounds. His breathing was erratic matching the impossible quick strokes of his hand around his cock. You could tell he was getting close by the way he began to whimper, the high-pitched sound had you cupping your pussy through your panties and you began to rub your palm back and forth. It was then that Spencer began to call out, 

“F-fuck. Feels so good baby please.” You could hear him squirming around in his sheets as he edged himself, the dirty sounds of his slickness becoming impossibly loud. You imagined how he would look with his sweaty hair stuck to his forehead, cheeks flushed and red matching the tip of his angry, throbbing tip. That thought alone was enough to have your wetness begin to soak into the soft cotton of your panties which you pulled aside to insert a finger. You clenched around yourself as your finger moved in and out, adding another one and having to use the door frame to keep you upright. 

You couldn't believe you were about to make yourself cum while creeping on your roommate, but the sensation of your own pleasure mixed with spencers sounds of desperation were too good to pass up. You heard Spencer's movements increase once again, his sweet moans filling your ears as you matched his frantic pace with your own. You were both so close to release, just needing that one last push to be thrown off the edge.

And then Spencer’s whines and curses were joined by something new,

“Oh fuck y/n. Y/n please mommy. Please mommy let me cum, let me cum.” 

You had no time to be shocked as both you and Spencer’s bodies were flung into your own intense climaxes. Spencer let out the most delicious whimpers as ropes of cum spurted all over his torso and you clung frantically to the doorframe, one palm over your mouth and the other working hard to ride out your orgasm to its completion. Once you had both come down all you could hear were Spencer’s laboured breaths and your own heart pounding in your ears. 

You stood frozen for a moment longer before quietly slipping into your room and collapsing onto your bed trying to process all that had just happened. A new and stronger sensation of want for the boy overcame you as you relived his cries for you and the way he submitted to you in his fantasies.

You couldn't believe that this was what he'd been thinking about doing with you all this time...

and you couldn't wait to make him admit it. 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

��Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 

“Night.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[love-that-we-were-in]

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

1. 

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break. 

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study. 

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining. 

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day. 

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point. 

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?” 

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day. 

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear. 

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?” 

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.” 

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.” 

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home. 

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing. 

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.” 

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish. 

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

2. 

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now. 

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute. 

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room. 

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose. 

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.” 

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t. 

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.” 

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?” 

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected. 

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down. 

“I just think that hat is stupid.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.” 

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?” 

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left. 

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round. 

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.” 

3.

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands. 

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using. 

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that. 

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back. 

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges. 

You’re kind of obsessed with it. 

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you. 

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.” 

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.” 

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.” 

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.” 

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it. 

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy. 

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.” 

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong. 

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off. 

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.” 

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel. 

*

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh. 

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him. 

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.” 

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.” 

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. 

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee. 

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.” 

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” 

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.” 

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.” 

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it. 

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.” 

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is. 

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly. 

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too. 

[paradiseismine]

Hi!!

Today was my birthday and I don’t know if you have requests open, but if you do, could you please write a Mike Wheeler x Munson!Reader? In which Y/N is Eddie Munson’s younger sister and secretly dating Mike and, well, getting into spicy things in his basement?

I would thank you a lot ✨

Hands off - Mike Wheeler x reader

Pairing: Mike Wheeler (Stranger Things) x Munson!f!reader

Warnings: smut, secret affair, blowjob, face sitting, slightly inexperienced Mike

Love note from Nina: first of all, happy belated birthday, darling! 🎂 I hope you had a great day. Second of all: HELL YES, and here you go.

“Hands off, Wheeler boy” Eddie had warned (partly jokingly, but not entirely) when he caught Mike staring at you once. “That’s my little sister, don’t forget that”

But it’s not like he could forget that, really. You’d hang out with Eddie and tag along for D&D campaigns pretty frequently - the gang’s new Druid. You didn’t attend Hawkins High, though, but went to some fancier school in the neighboring town instead. You had gotten the book smarts whilst Eddie had gotten the street smarts, as he’d always say.

Tonight, you had joined the gang for another D&D campaign, on Mike’s basement, as usual. Y’all had been playing for a good five hours or so (with an strategic stop to order a pizza), and besides the fact that the campaign pretty much always took place on a Saturday, it was getting late.

You had caught Mike staring at you a couple times - he was also sitting right next to you, knees “accidentally” touching yours from time to time as the game progressed. There was something about him that made you feel so pretty, so desired, you could barely resist the temptation to touch his thigh under the table. Ugh, you had to come up with a plan, what could you possibly do t-

“Should we wrap and get going, guys?” Dustin suddenly asked, interrupting your thoughts while checking his watch. He didn’t say it, but he clearly wanted to call Suzie before going to bed. Lucas and Will agreed, and so did you and Eddie.

After another round or two, the gang decided to stop the game on a cliffhanger, just to keep things exciting and pick up from where you left off in the following week. Bidding each other goodbye, the rest of the party walked up to the front door and left on their bikes.

“Fuck, you go ahead, I think I forgot something in the basement” you scratched the back of your head, trying to seem nonchalant. “See you at home?”

“Sure, munchkin” Eddie agreed, not seeming suspicious at all. “Just take care on the way home later”.

Going back to the basement meant getting Mike alone - everyone else had gone home and he had to clean up the mess. You walked down the stairs normally, making sure he’d hear your footsteps, just so he wouldn’t be caught off guard.

“Nance?” he asked, sounding puzzled, before seeing you at the base of the staircase, his beautiful hands closing the box in which he’d put all the D&D stuff. “Oh, it’s you” he smiled. “Are you okay? Did you forget anything?”

“Well, actually, i didn’t really forget it, it’s something I’ve been thinking about all day…” you said, mischievous.

Mike looked at you quizzically, wanting your tone to be as naughty as he believed he’d heard.

“Can I-can I help you with that?” He stuttered, head lowered to look into your eyes as you approached him, your chest now nearly glued to his.

Michael Wheeler had fantasized about you pretty much since the first time he saw you - waiting for Eddie next to your scooter in the Hawkins High parking lot, looking like a model in your leather jacket, long hair and red lipstick. He’d get lost in his words when you two spoke, his palms sweating and his heart pounding.

“I’m pretty sure you know you can” you looked up at him maliciously. “Or did you think you were being discreet back there” you pointed towards the D&D table with your head, “Touching your knee to mine every five minutes?”

Mike audibly swallowed. He had been caught red handed.

“Y/n, I-“ he started, nervously. “It’s just… You’re so pretty, and I know you’re Eddie’s sister, so I could never…” he bit his lip, embarrassed. “You know, no matter how much I wanted to… And believe me, I really do…”

You pushed him lightly towards the basement’s couch, and he fell back seating on it. His eyes went wide as you sat on his lap, one leg to each side of his waist.

“Eddie told you to keep your hands off of me, didn’t he?” Mike gulped, nodding with eyes still wide open as you slowly unzipped and took off your leather jacket, setting it aside. The white top you were wearing underneath was tight fitting and had a very low cut - besides, you were visibly not wearing a bra. “Well, he didn’t say anything about me touching you, so…”

You put your arms around Mike’s neck, gently running your fingers through the hair on his nape, your naughty eyes staring at his plump reddish lips. He could barely breathe, but his throbbing erection involuntarily pressing up against your core spoke for him.

“Tell me to stop” you whispered before your lips lightly touched his - and needless to say, Mike never told you to stop. You kissed him chastely at first, but as he seemed to gain confidence, you soon asked for entrance in his mouth with your tongue, and that innocent kissing soon turned into a full make out.

Mike’s hands went straight to your breasts, fondling them hungrily as he moaned into the kiss. You felt an instant rush in between your thighs, your arousal nearly painful; but you still wanted to play the game on the hard level.

“No, no, no” you broke the kiss to whisper to him, as you gently held his wrists and put his hands back on his lap. “Hands off, lover boy, only I get to touch you.”

Mike sighed, feeling dizzy with lust. He had never gotten drunk, but that’s what he imagined being drunk would feel like.

You kissed him once again, softly biting his lower lip, your hands pulling him closer by the collar of his Hellfire t-shirt. Mike timidly moaned as you touched him, his body quivering, aching for more. Soon, your lips found their way to his neck, kissing it, biting it, driving him crazy.

“Could I give you a little love mark, baby?”

“S-sure, I’m yours, whatever you want” he moaned, enchanted by you.

You bit and sucked lightly on his neck, leaving a small purple bruise behind, gently kissing it to relieve the pain afterwards. Mike’s hands grabbed your ass harshly, squeezing it. You couldn’t help but moan at the touch, right on his ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

“Again with the hands, mister? That’s not very Prince Charming of you, I’m afraid. Do I have to tie up those hands to make you behave?” you had grabbed his neck lightly, eyes studying his expression.

“Do you… do you want to tie me up?” he asked, trying to conceal the excitement in his voice.

“I’d love to, can I?” as he nodded, you took off your belt and tied up his hands with it, making a firm knot to secure it.

“Will you… will you still let me please you, y/n?” he nearly begged, his body squirming for relief in those tight jeans. “I always dreamed of making you cum”, he confessed.

You chuckled. He was so adorable, ugh.

“Have you ever had a girl sit on your face before?” you asked softly.

“No, I-“ he said, feeling a bit shy. Mike wasn’t very experienced at all, but it’s not like he was going to admit that to you. “I don’t think so”

“Can I?” you gave him your naughtiest look.

“Sure, beautiful” he agreed, eyes hypnotized by the sight of your perky nipples nearly ripping through the thin fabric of your shirt.

You stood up and stripped for him, garment after garment falling on the floor as he watched, tied up hands trying to palm his own erection for relief. You were so beautiful, and somehow, even more beautiful naked. He sighed, lustful, his face flushed as you approached him again.

You positioned him on the couch and slowly lowered your hips to Mike’s face, carefully adjusting your clit to where his lips were. You held yourself on the couch, not putting your weight entirely on him.

He licked your entrance delightedly, your smell and your taste making his head spin. He flicked his tongue to your clit and earned himself a moan, only to repeat the movement and keep hearing your moans. Your pussy was soaking wet for him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to reprimand Mike when his hands, even tied as they were, reached up to finger you as his tongue kept working on your clit.

“I’m so wet for you, Mikey” you moaned, your hips swaying onto his face. “You drive me wild, I want to cum for you so bad”

Mike whimpered as he kept eating you out like you’d be his last meal, and if Eddie found out about what happened tonight, it would be.

As his fingers curled inside you and his tongue relentlessly massaged your sensitive clit, getting you to moan more and more, legs shaking uncontrollably, you came on his mouth. Mike licked you through your high, still in disbelief that such a pretty girl was wet for him, moaning at his touch, desiring him.

You got off of him and lowered your body once again, kissing him and tasting yourself on his drenched lips.

“You taste so good, princess” he praised, still out of breath.

“I bet you do too, love” you pulled him up so he’d be seating on the couch again. Your legs were still shaky from such an intense orgasm, your head feeling light and dizzy, but you couldn’t wait another moment to have him.

You bent at your waist, hands on his knees, giving Mike your most devilish kiss. He lowered his head, and you immediately knew what he wanted. Putting your naked breasts to his face, he took one of your nipples in between his lips and suckled on it hungrily. His dark eyes were low and seemed in ecstasy.

“Can I give you a-a love mark as well? I mean, here?” he bit the side of your breast gently.

“Sure you can, love” you replied, nearly moaning.

Mikey sucked and sucked onto your skin, leaving a purple bruise behind, before repeating the same step at a slightly different angle. When you looked down, he had left a heart shaped bruise on your chest.

“I swear you don’t even exist, baby boy, I made you up” you chuckled and nuzzled your face onto his neck before pulling up his T-shirt to remove it.

You could hear Mike pulling air in between his teeth as you kissed his chest and his belly, working your way towards the hem of his pants. You looked at him in an inquiring way, hands on the button and zipper of his dark jeans.

He nodded rapidly, and you lowered his pants and underwear to his ankles, eager to take him in your mouth.

“Hold my hair back, will you?” You asked, and even with his hands tied, Mike managed to do it.

Soon enough, you had taken most of his length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, your hands on his balls and perineum, gently massaging him. Mike’s eyes would squeeze shut and roll back in pleasure, his lips red from so much biting and kissing, faint moans escaping them.

“Princess” he said, his voice barely audible. “You’re so good… Can I cum in your mouth?”

You simply opened your mouth and kept jerking him off as a response. Mike’s knees were shaking (and would’ve buckled if he wasn’t sitting down) as he let out a louder, satisfied moan and released his warm seed into your mouth. You swallowed it immediately, in slight disbelief that even his cum tasted good.

“Did… did you swallow it?” He asked, amazed.

“Of course, silly” you stood back up and kissed his nose playfully. “You taste so good, how could I not?”

“Thank you” He smiled, embarrassed.

“How long have you felt like that?” You sat beside him on the couch, grabbing your clothes back from the floor. “You know, being attracted to me and stuff?”

“I, uhm…” his cheeks had turned pink. “Ever since I saw you that day on the parking lot, waiting for Eddie” he confessed. “Yelling at him for not doing the laundry” you both laughed.

“You caught my eye that day too” you admitted, head tilted to the side. “I just thought I wasn’t your type, you know? I’m quite different from the girls at Hawkins High.”

“You’re way prettier than all of them” he shrugged honestly. “And a lot funnier, more interesting, more intelligent…”

“Do you want to… Keep seeing each other like this?” You suggested, hand lightly caressing his after you untied him.

“Kinda like… dating in secret?” He inferred.

“Eddie would kill you if he found out, wouldn’t he?” You laughed, understanding his point.

“Absolutely”

[eddiesxangel]

Okay last request of the year.

Eddie kissing reader on new year’s eve and it’s her first kiss💞

The Stroke of Midnight | Eddie Munson x Reader

Wc: 942 cw: alcohol and fluff

Here you were, New Year’s Eve, at Steve’s. Single. Surrounded by couples. Everyone had been paired off. Every. Single. Person.

Robin and Vicky. Steve and Nancy. Hell, even all the kids had their little relationships. And here you were, an hour until midnight, and you would be kissing Mr. Snuffles, the family cat, at this point.

The party was fun, but the reality of the fact that you hadn’t ever been kissed by somebody, let alone getting a New Year’s Eve kiss, was settling in.

Eddie, your only chronically single friend, was supposed to be here. However, it’s now 11:26pm, and he was nowhere to be found. Honestly, you were a tiny bit relieved he wasn’t here. You had liked Eddie. Ok, liked is an understatement. You had a big, fat, massive crush on Eddie Munson.

Eddie was never one of your super close friends. You had been closer with the girls, but he was still a friend. Your group was together whenever you all had the time. You tried at least a few times a week to get together. Eddie was always sweet on you. He was a natural flirt; you were not used to that kind of attention. He makes you flustered in the best way possible.

So when he didn’t show, you were disappointed, but since he was the only singleton out of the group, you felt anxious about him being here...Would you have to kiss? Would he even want to kiss you? Would you be bad at it? What if you sucked at kissing, and he told everybody! What if you asked him, and he rejected you? That would be mortifying!

As you got lost in your thoughts and the sparkling wine you had been downing all night, you didn't hear the door open or anyone or greet the man who had entered the room.

"Hey, sweetheart, sorry I'm late." You snapped out of your thoughts, and standing before you was Eddie. Your stomach was in knots.

"Edde! Hi!" You said a little too enthusiastically.

"Woah, how many of these have we had tonight?" He asks, taking your champagne flute from your hand and sipping it a bit. If it was anyone else that took your drink, you'd be pissed. But it was Eddie. He didn't mean anything by it.

"Only a few." You turn into yourself shyly.

"Well, looks like I need to catch up." He winked. "Care to join me in the kitchen?" He gestured his arm out for you to talk in front of him.

"Okay," You smiled.

You check the TV for the NYE countdown. Seven minutes until midnight.

"I didn't think you were going to come."

"And not be with my favourite person to start the new year? Nah. Have to start off '88 right." He smiled before turning to open the fringe, and you swore your heart stopped.

"Oh," your chest and face immediately felt flush. Thankfully, the door was blocking you, so Eddie couldn't see the look of shock in your eyes. "So, uh... what took you so long?" you twiddled with your glass.

"Oh, I had to finish up some last-minute deals... you know. Nothing says Happy New Year like being high." he says before taking a shot.

"Woah, Munson starting off strong," Steve says as he enters the kitchen.

"Gotta catch up with this one; can't be the only sober guy at the party," Eddie pointed to you jokingly.

You just rolled your eyes as you topped off your glass for the cheers.

Steve grabbed his drink and then beckoned the both of you into the living room with the TV countdown. There were only a few minutes left until midnight.

Eddie took your hand and led you into the crowded room. You noticed everyone was paired off, sitting beside one another. As you scanned the area, you noticed that most of the seats were taken. However, Eddie confidently guided you towards a single high-backed leather chair, which could only accommodate one person. He then patted his lap warmly with a smile, gesturing for you to sit with him.

" I uh- you sure?" you stuttered.

"Yes, sweetheart, only a few more seconds until midnight; how am I supposed to kiss you from all the way up there?"

You threw all caution to the wind while thanking your lucky stars you didn't drink too much to be an absolute disaster.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six... the others chanted as you sat down in Eddie's lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulder so you could face him.

Six.

You shuffled to get comfortable.

Five.

Eddie wrapped a sroong hand around your waist.

Four.

You looked into Eddie's eyes and took a deep breath.

Three.

Eddie smiled, and you smiled back. It was clear to the others around you that both of you were nervous.

Two.

Eddie nudged your nose with his own nose.

One.

Fireworks! You closed your eyes, and Eddie leaned in. His lips were a little chapped from winter but still soft and plush. He worked his mouth with yours as his hand came up to cup your left cheek. It was so natural, so easy, you couldn't believe how simple kissing was. You'd always thought it would be complicated. Or maybe it's due to the fact that Eddie was really good at it. You had nothing to compare it to, but he was really good at it.

Happy New Year! You heard the others cheer, breaking you out of your thoughts, and Eddie pulled away.

"Happy New Year, Sweets." He tilted your chin up to him.

“Happy New Year, Eddie." you whispered before he kissed you again.

[toomuchracket]

blood-red lips (birthday party!matty x reader angst/fluff)

the year is 2022. bfiafl release is imminent. you and matty are clearly in love but nervy to admit it. he brings a date to a house party you're at. things go tits up. promptober! enjoy <3

(p.s. if ur name is mabel i am so sorry lol)

“... oh yes, we went last week, i thought it was just so incredible. we just loved it - didn't we, matty?”

“hmm?” matty's snapped out of his reverie at the mention of his name; he's not really got a clue what his date's on about, but he nods anyway. “decent way to spend an evening.”

she touches his face in a weird approximation of tenderness, and he has to fight the urge to recoil. “god, you're so funny. isn't he just, like, so funny?”

“oh, yeah, hilarious,” nick deadpans from across the living room. he nods at matty. “fancy a smoke?”

a reprieve. thank fuck. “absolutely,” he stands, flashing a quick smile that doesn't meet his eyes to the girl beside him. “be back in a bit, yeah?”

“miss you already!”

he doesn't answer, already out of the living room and making a beeline towards the front door. when he follows nick outside, the cold air chills him to the bone, but he doesn't make a move to go back inside for his jacket - that would mean going back in to her.

“so,” nick busies himself with rolling a cig, while matty lights his own one from the pack perpetually in his pocket. “your date seems… nice. if a bit, well, overly affectionate.”

“you can say ‘clingy’, mate, it's alright.”

his friend laughs. “just trying to be polite.”

matty shrugs. “fair. but why lie?” he takes a long drag of the cigarette. “so. when's everyone else getting here?”

“you mean when's the best writer in the friend group getting here?”

“stabbing me would hurt less, nicholas,” he glares, face quickly shifting into a grin. “nah, you're right, she is,” he does his best to look nonchalant, which is an impossible task for him when you're concerned. “seriously, though, is she coming?”

“yeah.”

“definitely?”

nick smirks, nodding to the street. “i'd say it's a possibility. look.”

matty turns his head so quickly he's surprised he doesn't get whiplash, and he feels a massive smile spread itself across his face as he takes in the sight of you speedwalking down the street towards him, laden with tote bags; as you get closer, the bottle-clanking within them is apparent, as is the gorgeous red lipstick you're wearing. by the time you reach the front gate, he sees it's a slightly darker red than he first thought, more akin to fresh blood than fire engines and postboxes, a colour he'd happily let you leave all over his body if it meant he got to be kissed by you. combined with the familiar rosy scent that constantly surrounds you and wafts up the steps to the front door before you do, the thought of you leaving lipstick kisses on him has matty nothing short of dazed, and he's thankful when nick does his host duties and takes the lead on greetings - matty does manage to snap himself out of delusion before he's socially required to say hello, though, which he does through a longer-than-probably-appropriate hug and a soft “hi, darling”.

you eagerly reciprocate the welcome, squeezing matty so tight he goes a bit floaty. well, more than he already is around you. “hi, lovely. been a while, hasn't it?”

like he needs reminding. part of the only reason there's someone new sitting on the sofa indoors is because you weren't free to hang out. “i know,” he pulls back, heart fluttering at how beautiful you look and how sparkly your eyes are. “where have you been?”

“farringdon.”

matty frowns. “i thought you were in glasgow?”

“yesterday, yeah. but today,” you sigh, smiling tiredly. “negotiations with faber & faber.”

“they giving you a fuckload of money?”

you nod, smirking. “oh, yeah. cleared them out,” the boys laugh, and you join in before nudging matty. “and where have you been, lately, healy?”

matty opens his mouth to answer, but nick beats him to it. “oh, with his new lady friend,” the man takes a drag of his rollie, holding it to you; you shake your head, stealing matty's cigarette instead and taking a puff, which he reprimands you for by gently nudging you indignantly. “constantly out and about, the pair of them. she's in the living room, actually.”

“oh,” you blink, and matty swears he sees your face fall slightly. wishful thinking, perhaps. but you recover quickly, turning to him with a smile that his brain tries to tell him is fake. “you brought a date?”

“i did,” matty replies, guilt beginning to gnaw at his stomach. he rushes to clarify, practically tripping over his own words to reassure you. “but it's not, like, serious or anything, me and her.”

nick raises a thick eyebrow. ���does mabel know that?”

“well-”

“hold on,” you take a long drag of matty's cigarette. fuck, your lips. “her name is mabel? is she eighty?”

nick cackles, and matty has to bite back a laugh of his own. “she's your age, actually.”

“fucking hell. poor girl,” a smirk appears on your gorgeous face, and matty braces himself. “and poor you, having to moan that during sex. jesus.”

he shrugs, while nick practically cries laughing in the background; someone - probably frankie, his girlfriend - calls him from the living room, and he heads inside, leaving matty and you alone. “i've worked around it.”

by closing his eyes and imagining it's you he's fucking instead, thinking about your name and face and body and voice instead of hers, forcing his words into moans before he says them because he knows he'll end up calling her by your name if he doesn't… yeah. 

matty reaches for the cigarette in your hand, which you pass over politely as you muse. “well, i s'pose you'd have to. fuck, i'm not even in the party yet and i'm already being a bitch,” you shake your head. “m'sorry.”

“nah,” matty slings an arm around you, giddiness fizzing in his veins at the contact. “you know i like it when you get feisty.”

you don't quite know how much, but that's a secret between him and his right hand only.

humming out a little laugh, you turn to look him in the eye. there's something dancing in yours that he can't quite name - if he was any more delusional than he currently is, he would say it's attraction, flirtiness. “yeah?”

the breathiness of your voice has him reeling. “yeah.”

“maybe i'll keep it up, then. just for you,” the words are paired with a wink, and it takes everything in matty not to actually pop a boner. “can i have another drag of the cig?”

“magic word?”

you smile, saccharine. “please?”

he rolls his eyes. “they're bad for you, you know,” still, he holds the cig out for you to take. instead of holding it, though, you duck down and take it between your lips from his fingers, cheeks hollowing almost obscenely as you inhale; you stand up to exhale, winking as you do.

yeah, he's getting rid of his date as soon as possible.

someone - definitely frankie - calls your name. you start, grabbing your bags and moving to go inside, turning back to matty. “coming?”

he wishes. god, what is wrong with him tonight? “i'll finish this first, darling. you go ahead.”

“okay,” you smile. “miss you already.”

so does he, melancholy washing over him as soon as you disappear into the house. sighing, matty takes a final draw of the cig, stubbing it out in the ashtray on the garden wall; once he's sure it's done, he slides the lipstick stained butt back into the pack, keeping it safely in his pocket. which, admittedly, is a bit insane of him, but it feels like the right thing to do, to keep this definite evidence of the moment the two of you just shared.

when he reenters the house, he makes a beeline for the kitchen - partially to get some liquid courage for dealing with mabel again, but mostly because he knows that's your first (and last, and most frequent) port of call at any party. sure enough, you've already perched yourself on the counter, sandwiched between frankie and alexa with what looks like a vodka cranberry in your hand, and now that you've shed your jacket matty sees your dress for the first time; navy mesh, tastefully sheer, undeniably doing wonders for both your chest and legs without going too far… not an outfit he'll forget in a hurry.

speaking of things to be forgotten in a hurry - “matty, baby, where were you?” mabel stumbles into him out of seemingly nowhere, teetering on her louboutin-dupe stilettos; he steadies her as he best he can while trying to avoid touching her, leaning away from her prosecco breath and the way she's trying to cling to him possessively. “you were gone for so long i finished a whole bottle!”

jesus. what on earth was he thinking, getting mixed up with her? charity work? still, matty does his best to stay polite, conscious of the fact the conversations in the room - yours included - have halted somewhat. “i was just having a smoke. no big deal.”

“mmmkay,” she leans in for a kiss, which ends up on his cheek when he turns his head, and blinks her way around the room. when she sees you, her unfocused eyes suddenly sharpen, and her overly-plumped lips draw into a pout. “who are you?”

oh, fuck.

matty's whole body tenses. alexa's eyes widen. you, however, do nothing but insouciantly sip your drink, cocking your head as you swallow. “et toi?”

behind matty, nick snorts a quiet laugh, and matty has to hold one in of his own. mabel's frown deepens, confused. “what?”

“sorry. mabel, right?” you smile, genuine, before introducing yourself. “nice to meet you.”

she doesn't reciprocate the statement, drunkenness making her direct. “matty talks about you a lot,” there's an edge to the way mabel slurs her words that makes matty deeply, deeply uncomfortable. she sniffs. “i used to be worried about that, but you're actually not even that pretty, so…”

there's a beat of dead silence, before several jaws - including frankie's, and yours, and matty's himself - all but fall to the tiled floor. he jerks his hand away from mabel, a cocktail of embarrassment and disgust and utter fury coursing through him. “what the fuck, mabel? why would you even say that?”

she shrugs, and he gets even angrier. “it's true.”

“you're fucking ridiculous, you know that?” frankie's making her way over now, storming straight past mabel to hold the kitchen door open. “get out of my house. no fucking way you're getting away with saying something like that to my friend. matty,” her face softens a smidge when she looks at him. “i'm sorry, but she has to go.”

“way ahead of you, fran,” he's already got his phone out, tapping furiously. shoving the device savagely back in his pocket, he glares at mabel, who has the gall to look surprised. “an uber will be outside for you in three minutes. consider it a parting gift.”

the words take a second to compute, and then mabel's face twists into one of affront. “you cannot be serious. you're choosing her over me?”

“always,” matty spits back. and as an afterthought, so as to not seem suspicious - “i’d defend any of them before you, if you had the fucking cheek to be rude about them like that. we might've had fun, mabel, but this,” he shakes his head. “nah. we're done.”

mabel rears back, and he braces himself, but the slap never comes. instead, she looks around the room, shaking her head before storming out. “bunch of cunts.”

the door slams, and all the girls in the room flock to you as if they've been trained to do so. matty doesn't dare even look at you, the guilt from earlier turning to nausea and threatening to creep up his throat; he gently rests his head on the cool marble of the kitchen island, taking deep shaky breaths and doing his best to calm down.

that is, until your voice cuts through the hubbub of the kitchen, as soft and warm as he's ever heard it - he must be tuning it subconsciously to make himself feel better. “matty? can you come here, please?”

he looks up tentatively to find you standing by the door, heart slowing down to an almost regular pace when he sees you don't look angry, or upset. you beckon him over with a manicured index finger, and his legs seem to move of their own accord until he's standing right in front of you. the tiniest smile finds its way onto your lips, and you hold out your hand. “shall we go for a chat?”

matty nods, grasping your open hand and letting you pull him into the hall and upstairs. part of him wants to be ecstatic about the fact you're finally leading him by the hand away from a party so you can be alone - in a bedroom, no less, it turns out - but the context in which it's taking place is impossible to ignore, as is the sadness and guilt he feels about it. still, he can't stop his heart skipping a beat when you sit on the edge of the bed, and pat the space beside you for him to sit in, and reach out to hold his hand when he does.

“so,” your voice cuts through, again, but this time matty looks up to see your eyes are trained on the floor. “that was… something.”

“darling, i-” matty shakes his head, a lump in his throat. “i'm so, so incredibly sorry about that. never for a second did i think she would ever,” he shakes his head, tears pricking at his eyes.

you squeeze his hand. “matty - matthew, look at me, please,” he obliges, and the tiniest flicker of a smile crosses your face. it breaks his heart. “you weren't to know she would say that, yeah? please don't beat yourself up about it.”

“but-”

“no, seriously, it's okay. i'll get over it,” you try to smile again, but it falls off your face almost as fast as it appears; then, horribly, your voice cracks. “and here was me thinking i looked nice after i got ready tonight.”

matty's heart shatters, and all he can do in the moment is just tug you onto his lap and wrap his arms around you as tightly as possible. you're crying, he's crying, you're both clutching at each other like you're drowning… fuck, what a pair the two of you are. “don't you dare let her convince you you didn't,” matty croaks into your hair. “you're fucking beautiful, darling. always. it's fact. scientific fact.”

you laugh, and his heart lifts a bit. “even now?” you sniffle, pulling back, eyes slightly bloodshot and cheeks on the verge of being streaked by running mascara.

he nods. “i meant it when i said ‘always,’” he kisses your cheek affectionately, enjoying the way it lifts under his lips as you smile. “really like your lipstick, by the way.”

“thanks. thought it was chic.”

“it is. you've got great taste.”

“yeah, you haven't,” you nudge him playfully. “in women, that is. in most other things, i think you're good.”

oh, if only you knew what his taste in women was really like. matty grins. “shall we go back downstairs and put that statement to the test with the tequila i brought?”

“absolutely we shall,” you climb off him (and he does his best not to be upset about that), holding your hand out and squeezing his when he joins the two. “you know i love you, yeah?”

matty smiles, only slightly sadly. “i love you, too.”

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, can you please write a sequel to Susan's story. I thought and it occurred to me that it should go on like this: After the day described before, a week passes and little interesting happens during all this time. Unless, of course, you count the day when Susan assembled a detector from all sorts of junk that, in her opinion, should capture energy anomalies. To the annoyance of Autobots and children, these anomalies are Autobot life signals. All day long, Susan walked around the city tracking the Autobots, who barely managed to escape from the annoying schoolgirl. But it all ended when the Raf used equipment at the base to send a strong energy pulse that caused the detector to explode right in Susan's face. But after this excess, everything went back to normal. As the new week begins on Monday, Susan arrives at school handing out invitations to all her classmates to come to her house to watch the meteor shower in her backyard. For her, this is such a rare and significant event that she put on her special astronomer hat. And as you might guess, all of her classmates either lied that they were busy, or pretended to be interested but weren't really going to come, or outright refused or laughed in her face. The only ones who really want to come are Jack and the Raf (Despite Miko's warnings that this party is just a sophisticated trap) They thought it would be possible to go to this party at least out of pity (Jack especially saw this as an opportunity to apologize to Susan for the broken camera) But despite their wishes, they could not come because they had been helping the Autobots with a very important mission all evening. Which brings us to the backyard of the Farmfield house, lined with folding chairs and decorated with homemade decorations. Where Susan is sitting and waiting for someone to come. She waits and waits, but nothing. After a while, the sliding door opens with a sharp movement and Susan's mother comes out of the house. (A little clarification: After Susan's grandfather died, her parents moved back to house in Jasper to "take care" of their daughter. Although in fact they only moved because their business went bankrupt and they need a place to live) A woman looks around the backyard, looking at the decorations with disdain.

Mom: What is this all about, Susan? The woman asked with irritation in her voice.

Susan: Oh, it's all for my little party. One of the rarest meteor showers is going to happen today, and I thought it would be fun to share this rare phenomenon with someone. And I think if you and Dad join in, that would be it…

The girl happily tried to explain her idea until her mother unceremoniously interrupted her.

Mom: Susan, not me, not your father, and no one else in the whole world is interested in some stupid space-flying rocks.

The woman said with growing irritation in her voice.

Susan:Well, some of my classmates agreed to come, so they're interested.

The girl said with hope in her voice.

Mom: Ha, where are they?

She asked with mockery in her voice

Susan: Maybe… Maybe they're just late.

Susan: Maybe… Maybe they're just late.

She said clinging to the last shred of hope

Mom: Or maybe they just lied to you and you, being an empty-headed fool, took their word for it?

Saying this, every word is laced with poison

SUSAN: But… But they promised

Susan said sniffling, tears in her eyes

Mom: Oh my God, are you crying!? Stop it!

The woman shouted .

Susan: I'm sorry, Mom.

Susan muttered, trying to wipe away her tears

Mom: You know, it's because of your excessive sensitivity and your stupid hobbies that you can't make friends. You're just like your grandfather, a weirdo who will be laughed at for the rest of your miserable life.

Susan: I'm sorry

Susan mumbled even more softly than last time, still crying no matter how hard she tried to stop.

Mom: You know what, I don't care, live your miserable life any way you want.

The woman muttered at the end, turning around and walking back into the house. On the way there, she knocked over a couple of chairs and tore a couple of ornaments from the trees.

Mom:And take away all this garbage!

She shouted as she entered the house and slammed the door behind her.

Leaving Susan to sit alone, feeling like she's the loneliest person in the universe.

I'm sorry if this is too much, I just got carried away.

And I'm sorry if I've already sent this request, my Internet is buggy.

I teared up a bit reading this.

Poor Susan!

Susan will be okay, I promise!

Hope you enjoy!

Jack, Miko, and Raf vs Susan Farmfield part 2

SFW, Platonic, Angst, Human reader

TFP

Susan was still the trio enemy.

…Well, more Miko’s than Jack and Raf.

Jack didn’t see much harm with Susan.

She couldn’t even hurt a fly.

The only thing he would count as Susan hurting someone is having them sit in a room with her for 24 hours talking about conspiracy theories.

Raf honestly felt sorry for her.

He had her as a science partner once and it was fun!

He even got a couple of cool stickers from her.

Raf just hated that she had to look into places that could expose the bots.

Miko straight up hated her.

She saw the other girl as her prime nemesis, like the Autobots saw the Decepticons as their nemesis.

She was DETERMINED to make sure that Susan never got a hold of anything related to the bots or anything on them.

At school… Jack, Miko, and Raf are walking through the hallway. They spot Susan getting her books from her locker. A couple of new band aids cover parts of her face. Raf: “Susan? You, okay?” Susan jumps a bit, but smiles seeing it was the trio. Susan: “Oh yeah! I’m fine!” Jack: “What about those band aids from?” Susan: “Well, I was testing out a new invention I made last weekend. It can detect strange or unusual energy pulses. I hit a really big one the other night and it kinda exploded on my face.” Miko: “Well it was put out of its misery then.” Jack: “Miko.” He nudges her ribs a bit. The comment flies over her head. Susan: “But it did teach me to widen the range, but still back to square one. See you guys later!” Susan walks off. Jack and Raf turn to a smug Miko. Jack: “Is that why you told Raf to fire the energy pulse?” Miko: “Maybe, maybe not.” Raf: “Miko! That could have hurt her!” Miko: “So what? She’s the enemy.”

It was later that week when the trio found Susan passing something around the class.

It was an invitation to see a meteor shower from her backyard.

Jack and Raf winced as they saw students laugh and taunt in Susan’s face for making the ‘dumb party’ in the first place.

Other just made excuse not to go.

If there was one thing the trio, yes including Miko, could respect was that Susan was as stubborn as they came and followed through plans till the end.

Even if they blew up in her face.

Raf was the first person to tell Susan that he wanted to go.

The young boy had never seen Susan speechless and so happy at the same time.

Jack followed as well, mainly because he felt he owed Susan a solid after Arcee crushed her polaroid camera a couple weeks ago.

Miko reluctantly agreed, keep your friends close and your enemies closer right?

When the trio told the bots this, there were mixed reactions.

Arcee was curious on why the girl wanted to invite others to her home to watch some meteors.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Bumblebee was worried that it could be a trap, or Susan was going to do something to them.

Bulkhead did not want them going to Susan’s house. Point blank.

Optimus and Ratchet had mixed feelings about this human, but they both agreed to keep on optic out for her.

It was the night of the meteor shower when a couple of Decepticons showed up in a sector near an energon vein.

It was all servos and hands on deck.

The bots would go in the retrieve the energon while the kids would help keep visual and have the groundbrigde ready.

All three of them completely forgetting that they had plans that night.

Susan waiting patiently with a tray of homemade cupcakes and snacks in a lawn chair. Maybe everyone was running late. Or they forgot last minute, and they were getting ready. Her mother comes outside. Mother: “And what is all of… this?” Susan: “It’s for the Meteor shower party. You know, the one I told you about… like 9 times.” Mother: “Don’t you get smart with me missy!” She sneers at the décor and snacks. Mother: “And why on Earth would you waste all this food and paper for a party for yourself?” Susan: “No, I gave out invitations. They’ll be coming.” Mother: “Susan, if there’s one thing, I do know about you is that you have no friends. Just like your disgrace of a grandfather.” Susan narrowing her eyebrows. Mother: “Don’t give me that look! He had no friends because he drove them all away with his stories and lies!” Susan: “They were tru—” Mother: “SHUT IT!” Susan clamps her mouth and feels a familiar sting in her eyes. Mother: “Quite your crying kid! You don’t cry! Just quite it!” Susan: “What? Quite what?” Mother: “EVERYTHING! You think your going to get anywhere in this world by holding onto that weird little hobby of yours? Do you really think anyone will like you if they hear you spouting this nonsense? Look at yourself Stacy!” Susan: “Its Susan.” Mother: “Whatever! Just clean all of this junk up by tomorrow morning or I swear you will never see your telescope again!” SLAM! The lights in the house turned off. Susan slowly knelt to the ground letting out soft sobs while holding herself tightly. Maybe they were late… Maybe they got stuck in traffic… Maybe they… They… Following school day… The trio is walking down the hall. Raf: “I still feel bad that we didn’t go.” Jack: “I’m sure she’ll understand. We just had things to do.” Miko: “More important things than a meteor shower.” The stop when they see Susan again. She looks… different… Susan spots the trio and freezes a bit before slowly walking past them. Miko raises an eyebrow. Miko: “That was weird.” Raf: “She’s upset Miko.” Miko: “Please, Susan Farmfield never gets upset.” Jack looking at Susan going into the classroom with a defeated look on her face. Jack: “You sure about that?” Miko: “She’s just doing one of those sympathy tricks. Trust me the enemy will go back to normal when she sees her plan isn’t working.”

Since the party, Susan started having second thought about everything she had worked for.

Don’t get her wrong she still believed that there were aliens and unknown things that needed to be discovered.

But… what if part of what her mother was saying was right?

No, she came to far to start second guessing herself now.

Who needs friends anyway?

Susan Farmfield was going to find those aliens.

For her Grampa!

Susan was walking near one of the forested areas with her new energy detector. BING! BING! The machine had detected something. Something at the bottom of the gorge. Carefully Susan climbs to the bottom and gasps. It was a pod of some sort… Definitely alien origin. Susan pats the frost glass. Susan: “Hello?” The glass open startling the girl and she falls backwards and stares at the giant coming out of the pod. Groaning, a large bot sits up, stretches a bit before looking around and spots Susan. Susan waves awkwardly. The bot slowly waves back. Susan: “I don’t mean any harm. My name is Susan. Do you have a name?” The bot grumbles a bit. Susan: “What? Iroh eef?” The bot clears his vents a bit before giving a small smile. Ironhide: “The names Ironhide, kid.”

[lee-laurent]

Ensnared - Luke Hughes

Summary: There's something suspicious about Luke's new girlfriend

content: swearing, angst, some fluff, supernatural aspects, spooky (a little)

wc: 7.4k

notes: ik i'm a few days late from halloween but i really wanted to put out a supernatural-esque fic for you guys! halloweekend was insane for me so again sorry this is almost a week post-halloween! hope you guys like this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! this is different than my usual stuff but i still love it

The lights were dimmed low in the apartment, the only glow coming from some twinkling fairy lights and candles flickering in jack-o'-lanterns. Luke could feel the music in his chest as he stood near the kitchen counter, nursing a beer. He usually didn't go all out for Halloween, but Jack had insisted he join the team for their party, saying her needed to get out and let loose. They'd even coaxed him into a costume--one of his jerseys and some fake scars on his face, almost too close to his usual look to be considered a costume.

"Lighten up, Lukey!" Jack clapped him on the back, grinning through his over-the-top vampire costume, his girlfriend tucked close to his side. "It's Halloween! Have some fun!"

Luke rolled his eyes, but cracked a smile. He scanned the room lazily, half-focused on all his friends and chaos of laughter and music. He was just about to glance away when he saw her.

She was standing alone, near the edge of the room, and she was... stunning. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like waves, catching the dim light and shimmering in shades that seemed almost impossible--dark but with an almost etheral glow. Her dress, flowing and midnight blue, hugged her figure perfectly, and she moved with a calm, mesmerizing grace that cut through the noise of the crowd.

Their eyes met, and his stomach flipped.

"See something you like, bro?" Jack nudged him, following his gaze, his girlfriend giggling beside him. Luke blinked, snapping out of his trance. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and Jack just laughed, rolling his eyes. "Go talk to her, dude. Looks like she's waiting for someone to notice her."

Luke hesitated, but something inside him urged him forward. He took a deep breath, gripping his drink a little tighter, and started weaving through the crowd until he reached her side. She looked up, her eyes catching his with an intensity that felt magnetic. They were deep and dark, like the ocean at night--bottomless, mysterious, dangerous.

"Hi," he managed, suddenly feeling like he'd forgotten how to form sentences.

A smile played at her lips. "Hi," she replied, her voice smooth and musical, like a song he'd heard once but couldn't quite remember.

For a moment, they just stood there, caught in the haze of the party, but it was like nothing else mattered. Luke felt a strange pull, something unexplainable that made him want to stay rooted there, by her side.

"I'm Luke," his voice sounded breathless even to him.

"Marina." Her named rolled off her tongue like silk, and she extended her hand. When he shook it, her touch was warm, but it sent a chill straight to his core, leaving a strange tingling feeling where their fingers had connected.

"Not much for Halloween parties?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too awkward.

She shrugged, her smile mysterious. "I don't usually come to things like this. But... something told me tonight was worth it."

His pulse quickened. It was probably nothing, but he felt like she was looking right through him, reading him in a way that made him nervous. He shook it off, laughing a little. "Well, welcome to the chaos. It's a bit wild, but it's a good time, I think."

"Chaos isn't always a bad thing," she leaned in a bit closer. "Sometimes it's exactly what we need."

Her words seemed to have a hypnotic effect on him, and he found himself nodding, his gaze locked with hers. Everything in the background faded. He could barely remember what he'd been thinking about just minutes before.

"Luke!" Nico's voice cut through his trance. Luke flinched, snapping his head toward Nico, who was standing with a raised eyebrow, watching the two of them with curiosity. He smiled, but there was a strange look in his eyes, like he'd interrupted something he didn't trust.

"Oh, hey, Nico," Luke blinked, trying to shake off the foggy feeling. He looked back at Marina, but she didn't seem bothered by the interruption. Instead, she just offered Nico a polite smile, tilting her head in acknowledgment.

Nico's eyes flickered between them, lingering a second too long on Marina. "Just checking in, man. You've been a little quiet tonight."

Luke laughed it off, feeling a strange surge of frustration at Nico's interruption, even though he knew his friend was looking out for him. "I'm fine," he said, a little too quickly. "Just... talking."

"Alright. Just wanted to make sure you're good."

Marina's eyes glittered with amusement as Nico walked away, and she turned back to Luke. "Your friend seems... protective."

"He just worries too much," Luke replied, a bit embarrassed.

"Well," she murmured, her voice like a gentle wave lapping at the shoreline, "tonight, you don't have to worry about anything. Just... enjoy yourself."

~~

Luke couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... alive. As the night went on, the others in the apartment had faded away into blurs, leaving him fully focused on Marina. She seemed just as absorbed in him, her dark eyes watching him with an intensity that made his pulse race.

"So," he attemped a casual smile, "how do you know everyone here?"

A wry smile danced on her lips. "I don't, actually. I just... found my way here." She shrugged one shoulder elegantly, her eyes glinting with a secret he wanted to know. "I suppose I'm just drawn to certain places. The right places."

There was a hidden meaning behind her words he couldn't shake. But her smile was so enchanting that he just nodded, leaning in a little closer. "Well, it's a good thing you came. I think I'd be bored out of mind if you hadn't."

"Oh, I doubt that." She tilted her head, considering him in a way that made his breath hitch. "You seem like you're never bored, Luke Hughes."

He blinked, surprised that she knew his last name when he hadn't mentioned it. But before he could ask, she smiled again, and he forgot his question as her hand brushed his arm--a light, fleeting touch that made his skin tingle.

"I feel like I know you already," he was surprised by his own boldness. He wanted to be seen by her, he wanted her to know everything about him.

"Do you?" her smile was amused. "Maybe you do. I have a way of... drawing people to me." Her words were like a whisper, her eyes locked on his. "I suppose I'm a bit of a mystery. Not quite from here, you could say."

The words made his skin prickle with something he couldn't explain. He wanted to know more, needed to know more. "What does that mean?"

"Have you ever felt like there was more to life than just... this?" she asked, gesturing to the room around them. "Like you're only seeing the tiny pieces of the world, when there's so much more hidden beneath?"

The question struck him as strange, but it made his heart race. He nodded slowly, feeling oddly exposed, as if she'd seen straight through his exterior to something he didn't know he was hiding.

"Yeah. I... guess I do."

"Good. Not many people do. You have to look a little deeper to see the real world."

A teammate's laugh broke their little moment, pulling Luke back to the sounds of the party. He noticed that the other guys had been glancing over at them, nudging each other and smirking as if to say, Look at Luke, completely spellbound.

He could almost hear Jack teasing him. Normally, he would've laughed it off, maybe shrugged and joined the guys for a drink. But tonight, none of that mattered. There was only her--only Marina.

"So, where are you from?" he asked, desperate to know more.

"Oh... a place far from here. Somewhere most people haven't seen." She lifted her glass, eyeing the liquid inside as if it were the most curious thing in the world. "You know, I haven't tasted something like this in... well, centuries, it feels like."

He laughed, but her eyes were dead serious. The chill that ran down his spine was unmistakable, and he felt an impulse to lean in even closer, to feel her presence more fully. It had to be a joke, a weird way to add to the Halloween vibe, right?

Before he could ask, she took a slow sip, the look in her eyes mesmerizing. It was like her words had wrapped around him, drawing him into her orbit, making him feel like nothing else mattered.

"I'm glad I came tonight," she murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she were speaking only to herself. "Sometimes, it's hard to find people who understand... the way things really are."

"Yeah? And how are things... really?"

"It would take more than one night to tell you that. But perhaps we'll have more time. If you want."

"I do," he said instantly, without even thinking. The words felt natural, as if she'd pulled them from him somehow.

She seemed satisfied, giving a small, mysterious nod before she leaned in close, brushing his cheek with a touch that sent shivers down his spine. Her lips were close to his ear, her breath warm. "Until next time, then."

And with that, she was gone. She drifted away through the crowd, disappearing like it was a dream. Luke tried to follow her, to catch one last glimpse, but the crowd thickened, and no matter which way he turned, he couldn't find her.

He stood there, dumbfounded, feeling as if a spell had just been broken--but only for a second. His head was spinning, and he felt her presence lingering like a haunting melody that he couldn't shake.

"Well, Luke, looks like you've got a new fan," Nico said from behind him.

Luke barely heard him, his mind lost in Marina's dark eyes and her words that felt like they'd been written just for him. He couldn't stop thinking about her, his heart aching with an unexplainable longing. She'd carved herself into his memory, and he knew, even as he lay awake hours later, that he was already falling, deeper than ever before.

~~

Two mornings later, Luke was the first on the rink. Or, more accurately, the first one pacing the outside of the rink with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, his mind so far from hockey he might as well have been somewhere completely different. When the guys started trickling in, he didn't notice; he was scrolling through his phone, texting with a smile that hadn't left his face since last night.

Jack was the first to notice, elbowing Nico as he smirked. "Look at him," he whispered with a grin. "Our boy's got it bad."

Nico glanced over, amused but slightly concerned. "Bad? He met her two nights ago. Doesn't usually happen that fast, you know?"

"Oh, come on, Nico," Jack laughed, watching Luke's dazed, half-grinning expression with a proud, older-brother look. "Kid's in love. And he deserves it, doesn't he? Especially after all those jokes about him being too serious." He shook his head. "I'm just glad he's finally letting loose."

Nico was unconvinced. He frowned, noticing how Luke seemed glued to his phone, as if he couldn't bear to be away from it for even a second. The more Nico watched him, the more a strange, uneasy feeling settled in his gut. "It just... I dunno. It's a little fast, don't ya think?"

Jack shrugged, laughing. "Well, I for one am happy for him. Let's leave him alone."

Nico nodded slowly, but he couldn't help glancing back at Luke. Something about the way he was acting felt off--almost like he was in a trance. Usually, Jack would be the first to hit the ice, focused and ready to warm up, but he hadn't even looked up from his phone.

As practice began, Luke finally put his phone away, but Nico kept watching him. Every few minutes, Luke's gaze would drift to the door of the locker room, like he was waiting for a message. When drills started, his usually sharp reflexes were sluggish, his focus absent. He missed passes, stumbled through plays, and even forgot his positioning once or twice, much to the coach's frustration.

Jack just laughed it off. "Guess he's got other things on his mind," he joked.

Nico, however, wasn't laughing. When they had a break, he approached Luke, trying to keep things light. "So... someone had a good night at the party, huh?"

Luke grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mere mention of Marina. "Yeah... Yeah, I did. She's... different, ya know? I don't think I've ever met anyone like her."

"Different, huh?" The captain raised an eyebrow. "What's so different about her?"

Luke hesitated, as if he couldn't find the words to explain it. He just shook his head, his eyes a little distant. "She just... gets me. Like, she understands stuff that most people wouldn't, y'know? And when I'm with her, it's like everything else fades away. Like I'm in a dream."

Nico's concern deepened. "A dream? Don't you think it's a little... strange to feel that way this fast?"

But Luke laughed it off just like his brother. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's not like anything I've ever felt before. And she--" He stopped, his eyes glazing over a little. "I dunno. She just knows things."

"Like what?"

Luke hesitated again, a dreamy look on his face. "The other night... she knew stuff about me I didn't even tell her. Like, personal stuff." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it, but... it feels like I've known her for years. Like she's been a part of me."

Nico forced a smile, trying to hide the unease he felt. "Yeah, maybe. Just... be careful, okay?"

But Luke barely heard him again. As soon as a notification buzzed on his phone, his eyes lit up, and he pulled it out, smiling as he read a message from her. Nico had never seen Luke act this way before, and something told him that whatever hold Marina had on Luke wasn't as innocent as it seemed.

~~

By the end of the week, the changes in Luke were impossible to ignore. His dedication to hockey--a commitement that had been rock-solid--was slipping. He was often late to practice, distracted, or exhausted. Once, Nico caught him sneaking off during a break, texting Marina with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

"Luke," Nico said, "are you even here right now? Or have you mentally checked out?"

Luke blinked, looking up from his phone like he'd forgotten where he was. "I'm here," he mumbled, though his fingers were itching to reply to Marina's last message.

"Dude, you're supposed to be focusing on pratice," Nico pressed, trying not to sound annoyed. "Are you okay?"

Luke looked at him, and for a moment, his expression was almost... irritated. "I am focused. Just... I don't know, she's different. It's like I need to be with her, Nico."

"Need? That's... not normal, man."

Just then, Jack bounded over, rolling his eyes at the serious expression on Nico's face. "Nico, come on, cut the guy some slack! He's got a girl he's crazy about, so what?" He threw an arm around Luke's shoulders. "Let him enjoy it! We don't all find someone like that."

Luke managed a smile, grateful for Jack's support, and Jack flashed Nico a pointed look, telling him to drop it.

But Nico couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Luke was acting like someone else, like he'd been changed. And it was more than just puppy love; it was like he was under a spell, an invisible tether he couldn't escape from. The idea sounded ridiculous--more like a Halloween ghost story than anything else--but he couldn't ignore what he'd been seeing.

That night, Nico lay awake, mulling over everything Luke had told him about Marina. He couldn't help thinking back to the way she'd looked at him that night, her eyes dark and knowing. There had been something about her... something he couldn't put into a words. A feeling he couldn't shake.

Then a memory hit him--something he'd heard, maybe just a legend, about people who could captivate others in ways that defied logic. He'd thought it was just a fairy tale, but now... he wasn't so sure.

The next morning, he found Luke standing alone by the rink, staring at his phone. "Still thinking about her?" Nico asked.

Luke glanced up, his expression... pained. "It's weird," he mumbled. "It's like she's in my head. I can't stop thinking about her."

Nico's concern turned to alarm. This was more than a crush. Something deeper, darker, was at play. "Luke, maybe you need to take a break from her Just... clear your head."

Luke scowled, his posture becoming defensive. "Why are you so against her, Nico? You don't even know her!"

"Maybe. But I know you. And this isn't you, Luke."

Luke looked taken aback, his gaze flashing with a strange confusion. But then he shook his head, pocketing his phone. "You don't understand, Nico. You can't understand."

As Luke walked away, Nico felt a chill run down his spine. He was certain now--Marina wasn't just any girl. And he was going to find out exactly who she was, no matter what it took.

~~

Luke's sense of time was blurring. He couldn't pinpoint when he started feeling that itch to see her every moment he could. It was like he attached to a rope that kept pulling him back, drawing him in like never before. Marina had become his every thought, every second between practice and sleept spent waiting for her texts, which came at odd hours, often in the dead of night.

Every time they met, it was somewhere new, somewhere unexpected. She would send him cryptic directions that led to hidden spots in the city--places he hadn't known existed. First, it had been a secluded coffee shop by the river, only open after hours. Then, it was an abandoned rooftop overlooking the city, their eyes reflecting the city's pulse.

Tonight, she'd told him to meet at the edge of an old, overgrown park on the outskirts of town. Luke had hesitated as he looked around the deserted space, but as soon as she appeared, a smile on her lips, his hesitation melted. She took his hand, her fingers warm against his cold skin, and led him deeper into the park, away from the faint street lights.

"You like these places," he remarked, his voice detached, like he was in a dream.

She laughed softly, her voice weaving through the trees. "I like places that feel... hidden. They're more real, don't you think? Not so tied to the world that everyone wants you to see."

Luke nodded. It felt like she was speaking a language he barely understood but wanted to, needed to. "Yeah. Like... like they're just for us."

Marina turned, her eyes catching his with that same magnetic intensity she always had. "Exactly," she whispered, her fingers trailing up his arm. "It's like you know what I'm thinking."

"I... yeah. Sometime I feel that."

They stood close, her presence enveloping him like the night itself. She was so close that he could see the way her pupils dilated. "And that's why I like being with you, Luke. You're... different."

She knew exactly how to make him feel like the only person in the world. Any doubts he had, any worries that flitted across his mind about her or the way he felt... they all vanished the moment she looked at him. She didn't even have to speak; just a touch, a glance, and he was hers, swept into a current he couldn't control.

~~

While Luke disappeared into the night, Nico sat in his apartment, his laptop open as he scrolled through Marina's social media for the third time that evening. He knew was overstepping, but his gut wouldn't let this go. Something wasn't right, and he was going to prove it.

He started with her photos, but that only added to his unease. Her account was full of pictures, but they were... strange. Oddly curated, almost impersonal, yet haunting. Most were places, landscapes with a dark, moody atmosphere--misty forests, empty fields, waves crashing against cliffs. When she did appear in her own photos, her face was always turned away or obscured, as if she were more a shadow than a person. And what really struck him was the dates. The photos went back years, yet she looked exactly the same in every single one.

He clicked on one from nearly eight years ago, studying it closely. She was sitting on a rock by the sea, her hair blowing in the wind, a distant look on her face. The style was modern, but there was something timeless about it, something off. And as he compared her current photos to older ones, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were... staged. As if she'd been posing in the same way for decades.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He tried to tell himself it was a coincidence, that maybe she just had a certain aesthetic she liked, but it wasn't convincing. Frustrated, he swtiched tabs, digging through online archives, local stories, anything that could give him more information. But her trail seemed to vanish whenever he got close, she was like a ghost, slipping just out of reach.

He leaned back, rubbing his temples, trying to shake off all the bad feelings. He didn't want to believe it, but the more he found, the more he was convinced: Marina was hiding something, and it was bigger than he'd realized.

~~

Back in the deserted park, Luke and Marina sat side by side on a bench, the shadows thickening around them. Her presence was intoxicating, and he found himself leaning ever closer, mesmerized by her voice.

"Do you ever wonder what lies beyond this world?"

"What do you mean?"

"Life... it's just the surface of something much deeper. Most people never even notice. But you... I think you can see it." She looked at him, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Can't you feel it, Luke? Like there's something you're missing, something just out of reach?"

He nodded slowly, his words tugging at something deep inside him. It felt like she was speaking directly to a hidden part of his soul. "Yeah. I... I think I do."

She smiled, and he could've sworn her eyes darkened, just for a second. "Good," she murmured, intertwining her fingers with his. "Maybe one day, I'll show you."

He felt a thrill run through him. The way she said it felt like a promise, like she was offering him something no one else could. Any lingering doubt melted away, replaced by a hunger to know more, to fall deeper into whatever spell she'd woven around him.

~~

It was nearly midnight when Nico stumbled onto a page in an old forum discussing local legends and folklore. The story that caught his eye created goosebumps all over his arms.

It was a tale about a woman who had been seen over the centuries, known for enchanting young men, leading them away to secluded places and leaving them forever changed--or worse, vanishing altogether. The description was vague, but certain details matched perfectly: her beauty, her mysterious nature, her tendency to appear and disappear without a trace.

His hands shook as he read the final line. According to the legend, she was a siren of sorts, feeding on the very essence of those she captivated. Her name wasn't mentioned, it didn't need to be. Every instinct screamed that it was her. Marina.

Without wasting another second, Nico grabbed his phone, dialing Luke's number. He had to tell him, had to warn him--whatever Marina was, she wasn't just another girl. But the call went to voicemail, and Nico cursed under his breath. Luke was probably with her right now, deep under her spell.

As he hung up, Nico felt an icy dread settle over him. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

~~

The tension in the locker room was nearly tangible. Practice had just ended, and the rest of the team had headed out, but Nico stayed behind, watching Luke as he packed his things, his phone glued to his hand. His face softened whenever a message from Marina popped up, an unmistakable grin on his face every time without fail.

"Nico? You need something?" Luke asked, sensing his friend's presence behind him.

"Yeah. I need to talk to you. It's... important."

Luke finally glanced up, frowning. "About what?"

"About Marina," Nico said, his voice sharper than he intended. He saw the immediate defensiveness flash in Luke's eyes and rushed to explain before he could be cut off. "Look, man, just... hear me out, okay? I've been doing some research, and there are things about her that don't make sense."

Luke's expression hardened, his grip tightening on his phone. "Seriously, Nico? You're still on about that?"

"Yes, and I'm not saying this to mess with you. I'm saying it because I care about you," Nico replied. "There's something about her that feels... wrong. I don't think she's who she says she is."

Luke shook his head, laughing bitterly. "This is ridiculous. She's not some villain, Nico."

"I know how it sounds, but just listen to me. I looked her up. Her social media, her background--none of it adds up. She's been posting the same pictures for years, looking exactly the same. She's told you things that don't make sense, like... like how she's been around for centuries, or how she's from some place that 'no one's ever seen.' Doesn't that make you wonder, even a little?"

"You're really going to dig into her past? Based on... what, a feeling?"

"It's not just a feeling!" Nico snapped, frustration boiling over. "I think she's dangerous, Luke. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and it's not normal. You're not acting like yourself anymore. You're late to practice, you're distracted, always with your phone in your hand like you're waiting for her next command. You don't even see it!"

"This is insane, Nico! You don't know her like I do. You've never felt this way about someone, have you? You don't know what it's like."

"Maybe not, but I do know what it's like to care about my friends and want to keep them safe. I don't want you getting hurt, Luke."

"I'm not getting hurt! I'm... happy. She makes me happy, and for some reason, you can't stand that," Luke shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "Ever since I met her, you've been trying to find something wrong with her. You're just... you're jealous, or you're mad that I finally found someone I actually care about."

"Jealous? I'm trying to help you, Luke! Do you hear yourself? You're so deep under her spell that you can't even see what she's doing to you. You've barely been yourself since she came into your life."

"Maybe that's what you don't get," Luke replied, tone cold. "Maybe I'm finally being who I'm supposed to be, and she's the only one who understands that."

Nico stared at him, almost at a loss. He could see the intensity in Luke's eyes, an intensity that didn't feel... real. It felt like someone else was looking back at him, not Luke. He had no idea how much of Luke was even left, how much of him was already lost to Marina.

"Luke," Nico said softly, taking a step closer, "you don't even sound like yourself. You've only known her for a few weeks, but you're acting like you'd give up everything just to be with her. Doesn't that scare you?"

"No. It doesn't scare me. What scares me is you, Nico. You don't get it. You're so desperate to find some fault in her that you're willing to throw me under the bus." His voice grew louder, angrier. "Maybe I'm finally moving on from all of this, and you just can't handle it."

"Luke, think about it. Every time you're with her, it's like you're... drained. You're losing yourself."

"I don't have to stand here and listen to this," Luke spat, turning and grabbing his bag.

"Luke, come on--" Nico's voice cracked. "If you walk out of here, you're letting her control you. Can't you see that?"

But Luke didn't turn around. "What I can see is that my best friend can't let me be happy. Maybe you should look at yourself, Nico. Maybe you're the one who's lost."

~~

Marina had led Luke to another place he'd never been--a small, secluded cabin tucked away on the outskirts of the city. The silence around them felt heavy.

Luke didn't ask how she'd found the place, and she didn't explain. Instead, she just smiled, her hand trailing down his arm. "Do you trust me, Luke?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because I have so much more to show you. But to see it... you have to trust me completely. Can you do that?"

Luke nodded. He was ready to follow her anywhere.

~~

Nico's eyes burned from hours spent staring at his latop. He'd used the information from his previous search to find even more out about Marina. But every new lead, every story he uncovered, pointed to something far more sinister.

He stumbled across another thread of legends, all about a mysterious girl who had been seen in cities across the country, always the same striking beauty, always connected to young men who became infatuated with her. Some people claimed to have seen her over the course of decades, some even over centuries. But the worst part? Just like the post he'd found before, all these stories ended the same. The men either disappeared without a trace or were left broken, mere shadows of themselves, haunted by her memory.

One story in particular caught his attention: it was a newspaper clipping from a small town across the state. A local athlete, promising and ambitious, had vanished after meeting a girl who fit Marina's exact description. Friends said he had acted strangely, obsessed with her, and when he disppeared, they'd found no evidence of foul play. The town had written it off as a tragedy, but a few people had claimed there was more to it--that the girl was not human.

His instincts had been right, but this truth was more horrifying than he'd anticipated.

Every cell in his body screamed at him to warn his friend, to get him out of Marina's reach. Would Luke even listen? After their last fight, Luke had made it clear he didn't want Nico's "help."

Still, Nico knew he couldn't give up. He had to try.

~~

Across town, Luke was with Marina in her small, dimly lit apartment. The room was filled with things he couldn't quite place--strange, intricate trinkets on the shelves, books with covers that looked centuries old. Everything about her was extraordinary.

"There's something I need to tell you," she murmured.

"Anything."

Marina sighed, looking away from him. "It's about your friend, Nico. He... he doesn't understand what we have, Luke."

Luke frowned, irritation flaring inside him. "What do you mean?"

"Nico's been... watching me, hasn't he? Digging into my past, trying to... find something wrong with me."

"Yeah, he has," he admitted. "But he's just protective. He doesn't know you like I do."

Marina's hand brushed his cheek, her touch warm and soothing. "It's more than that, Luke," she whispered. "Nico's afraid of what he doesn't understand. People always are." Her voice was soft, almost sad. "But he's not just afraid. He wants to keep you away from me. He wants to ruin what we have."

Luke felt a surge of anger at the thought. The way she said it made Nico's actions seem cruel, possessive. He hadn't thought about it that way, but hearing her say it--it made sense. Nico had been relentless, unwilling to let him find happiness with Marina. And for what? Because he didn't like her?

"I think... maybe he wants you just to focus on hockey and your friendship. Or maybe he's jealous that you've found someone who understands you."

Luke's brow knitted together, a part of him resisting, not wanting to believe it. But Marina's voice, her touch--they wrapped around him, making it feel real, as if Nico's actions were all part of some deeper betrayal. "Nico would never..."

Her gaze softened, but there was still something sharp and calculating in her eyes. "Sometimes, the people closest to us don't want to see us happy, Luke. They want us to stay close to them, just so they can feel safe. He doesn't understand what we have, and he doesn't want to."

He'd trusted Nico for years, and to think that his friend would stand in the way of his happiness, just because he didn't like Marina...

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "I don't care what Nico thinks," he said firmly. "I'm not letting him ruin this for us. I'm staying with you."

"I knew you would," she rested her head against his chest. "But you need to be careful, Luke. People will say things about me, try to turn you against me. They don't understand what we have... but that doesn't matter, does it?"

"No. It doesn't matter at all."

~~

Nico tried calling Luke again, his heart pounding with every unanswered ring. But he got nothing--only Luke's voicemail, each message left sounding more desperate than the last. Frustration boiled in him and he decided he could't just sit there. He needed to find Luke, even if it meant going to Marina's place and dragging him out himself.

As he left, he thought over everything he'd learned about Marina, every detail of the stories he'd read. She was a predator, a siren of sorts, he didn't know for sure. But the pattern was always the same: men who fell under her spell, only to be broken or lost, victims of her influence.

~~

Marina had lulled Luke into a sense of calm, making him feel safe and wanted, not registering the buzzing of his phone as another call from Nico came through.

"You're sure about this Luke? You're sure you want to be with me, no matter what?"

"Of course."

"Then let go of your doubts. Let me show you what we can have together--what life can be like when there's no one holding us back."

Marina leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "You'll never need anyone else, Luke. Not as long as you have me."

~~

The street outside Marina's apartment was eerily quiet. Nico parked his car and stared up at the dark windows, his hands clammy and heart racing. Every instinct screamed for him to turn back, but he shoved his fear aside. This was his last chance to save Luke.

He made his way to the door and knocked, his fist clenched. When Marina opened it, she seemed unsurprised, her expression calm and almost amused.

"Nico," she greeted, her voice low and mocking. "What a surprise."

He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "I need to talk to you. Now."

She smirked, stepping aside with a graceful wave of her hand. "By all means. Come in."

Marina watched him enter, her eyes predatory. "So, what brings you here? Come to tell me how much you hate me? Or perhaps... beg me to let Luke go?"

Nico's jaw tightened. "This isn't a game, Marina. I know what you are. I know what you're doing to him."

She tilted her head, smile widening. "And what exactly am I doing to him, Nico?"

"You're destroying him. I don't know how or why, but you've got him under some kind of spell, and I'm here to end it."

Marina laughed, the sound filling the room with a dark, melodic energy. "Oh, Nico," she purred. "I'm not forcing Luke to do anything. He's with me because he wants to be. Because I understand him in ways you never could."

"That's not true!" Nico retorted. "You're manipulating him, feeding on his weaknesses. He's losing himself because of you. He's not the Luke I know."

She took a step closer to him, smile fading, and for the first time, her calm façade slipped. A flash of something dark, something ancient, crossed her face--a flicker of supernatural beauty that made her features seem sharper, more otherworldly. Her eyes glowed faintly, like embers hidden in the dark.

"I don't know who you are," he said, his voice unsteady, "but you're not going to have him. You're done with him. Let him go."

She arched a brow, her smile twisting into something cruel. "You think you can save him, Nico?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. "You think you have what it takes to pull him away from me? He's mine now."

"No. He's my friend. And I'll do whatever it takes to bring him back."

At that moment, the door behind them opened, and Nico turned to see Luke standing there with a bag of food in hand, his expression conflicted.

"Luke," Nico took a step toward him. "You have to listen to me. She's not who you think she is."

"Why are you here, Nico?" his voice carried a hint of accusation.

"Because I care about you, and I know what she's doing to you," Nico's words were rushed. "She's not just some girl, Luke. She's... she's something else. Like a siren. She's using you."

Marina moved to stand beside Luke, slipping her arm around him. Her touch seemed to calm him, his tense expression softening.

"Luke. You don't have to listen to him. He doesn't understand us, what we have together."

His defences slipped as he gazed down at her, and Nico's heart sank. It was like Marina's hold on him was too strong, she'd wrapped him in a web he couldn't break free from.

But Nico wasn't giving up. In a last, desperate attempt, he pulled out his phone, opening a recording he'd taken from his research--a clip from an interview with a historian who'd studied local legends, including the strange, eerie sightings of Marina over the decades.

"Luke. Listen to this."

Luke glanced down at the screen, but Marina's expression shifted. A flicker of something like fear crossed her face, but she quickly masked it.

The recording played, the historian's voice low and serious. "Throughout the years, there have been sightings of a woman described as hauntingly beautiful, appearing near young men who later exhibited strange behaviour--infatuation, detachment from their families, and in some cases, even disappearance. She's known by different names, but the pattern is always the same. She entrances her victims, drawing them away, leaving nothing but traces of a faded life."

The words sank in slowly, Luke's face twisting. But he glanced at Marina, who was looking up at him, eyes wide and pleading.

"Luke, it's... not what you think," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't listen to him. He's trying to tear us apart."

Luke looked at her, his hand shaking slightly. "Marina... is it true?" His voice was barely a whisper.

The softness in her gaze vanished, replaced by a cold, dark expression. Her eyes flashed with that unnatural gleam again, her voice dropping low. "I told you, Luke. I warned you that others wouldn't understand us."

Luke's breath hitched, and for the first time, he looked truly afraid. "Marina... what are you?"

"I am what I am, Luke. And I never lied to you about that."

Shock and betrayal crossed Luke's face, the spell around him cracking just enough for doubt to creep in.

"Luke," Nico said quietly, "remember the first time you told me about her? You said she seemed too perfect, too good to be real. You knew something was wrong, even then. Don't let her control you."

Luke looked between Nico and Marina, his mind racing, trying to reconcile the dream he'd been living with the nightmare it'd become.

Marina reached for him, her hand hovering near him his face. "Don't listen to him, Luke. I can show you things you've never dreamed of. I can give you everything."

But Luke stood a step back. "No... no, I can't..." He shook his head, looking at her with dawning horror. "I can't stay with you."

"Very well," her voice dripped with disdain. "But remember, Luke--you came to me. You wanted this."

With a final glance, she disappeared into the shadows, her form dissolving like mist, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.

Nico steadied Luke as he swayed, his face pale. "You okay?"

"I... I don't know what I was thinking. It's like I was in a fog."

"You're safe now," Nico assured him. "She's gone."

But as they left, Luke cast one last glance over his shoulder, wondering if Marina was truly gone--or if she was just waiting for another chance to lure him back.

~~

Luke sat alone in the quiet of the rink. He took a shaky breath, feeling like he'd just woken up from a long, twisted dream. His mind replayed the last few weeks--how he'd fallen for her so fast, how she'd made him feel like no one else existed. Now that the spell was broken, the memories felt blurry, unreal, like a fever dream.

He barely remembered leaving her apartment. Nico had driven him home, guiding him to bed like a ghost, his mind empty and aching. He was grateful for Nico, though he hadn't been able to say much but a quiet "thank you." How could he explain what happened to anyone?

The sound of footsteps jolted him to the present, and he looked up to see Jack, Nico, and a few of the others guys looking concerned.

"Hey, man," Jack said softly, sitting beside him. "You, uh... you doing okay?"

Luke nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. "I... yeah. I think so." He managed a weak smile. "Feels like I've been gone for a while, huh?"

Jack chuckled, though his voice was strained. "Just a bit. Had us worried."

"You're back now. That's what matters," Nico addded.

Jack turned to their captain, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey, man... I guess I owe you an apology." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely embarrassed. "I thought you were just being overprotective. But you... you knew something was off."

Nico shrugged. "You were just looking for him. We both were."

The other guys gathered around, patting Luke's shoulders, offering words of encouragement. For the first time in days, Luke felt grounded, his friends' helping to anchor him. But the haunting memories of Marina still lingered.

As they talked, Luke glanced around the rink, half expecting to see her standing in the shadows, watching him with that dark, knowing smile. He shook his head, reminding himself that she was gone. She had to be gone.

Jack’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Luke.”

He forced a laugh, shrugging it off. “Maybe I have."

~~

It took days for Luke to even slightly feel like himself again. Every night he dreamed of her. He would wake up drenched in sweat, the memories leaving him shaken, unable to stop feeling like she was still there somehow.

One evening, after practice, he walked alone through the streets, trying to clear his mind. He passed a bustling café, the windows lit warmly against the growing darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of dark hair, a glimpse of a figure that made his heart stop. He turned quickly, his eyes searching the faces inside.

There--by the window, staring right at him--was Marina. She was as beautiful as ever, smiling at him. But when he blinked, she was gone, leaving only an empty seat where she'd once been. A cold sweat broke out over his skin. He backed away, she was still watching him, somehow... some way.

He walked away quickly, when he heard something. A whisper that was barely there. Barely audible.

I'm never far, Luke.

But there was no one. Only the empty street.

With a shiver, he continued, refusing to let himself dwell on the feeling that she might always be lurking, somewhere just beyond his reach.

[geralts-yenn]

Bonfire

Captain Syverson (Sandcastle) x reader (female reader, no race, body type or physical features mentioned other then blushing)

summary: After months you finally see Sy again. But how will he react to you after he cancelled his date before he left?

warnings:  fingering, oral (f and m receiving), protected p-i-v sex

word count: 6,7k

A/N: I had this in my WIPs for sooo long, probably wrote this three times, deleted, changed, wrote it again. Sy just didn't do what I wanted to. But when I stumbled over that gif I knew I had to finish this story and I think I am finally happy with everything. Hope you like it too.

More inspo boards

I'd love to get some feedback so please don't hesitate to reblog, comment, ask. Like all my fellow writers I long for every bit of interaction with my readers.

taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @deandoesthingstome @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @ylva-syverson @ellethespaceunicorn

(please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

You feel lost. Why the hell did you even come here in the first place? This was Sy’s coming home party. And you two aren’t really friends. Maybe you could have become. Maybe even more. But time wasn’t on your side. You look over to the man that held your mind and heart captivated in the last year, without even being near you most of the time. 

You were surprised when you first saw him today. The buzz cut and the beard were new and unfamiliar. But it made him even more attractive. You wonder how it would feel to be kissed by him. Would his whiskers be soft or would they rub your soft skin and leave red marks?

You take in how he pulls his upper lip into his mouth, licking the beer from it. The next girl is coming over to him. You have watched them the whole evening: Making doe eyes at him, playing with their hair. All trying their best to get his attention. Of course, he had this effect not only on you. They all wanted him.

Well, you wouldn’t stand in their way. If Sy had had any interest in you, you would have heard from him. But he never called, he never texted, he never wrote. 

All your friends are enjoying the evening, drinking, talking and laughing by the fire. No one seems to notice that you don't join them. You walk away from the bonfire into the woods. 

You sit down on a rock and think about what led you to feel so sad.

May, one year ago:

You were excited to go to your friend’s wedding. It was the first event in your new life. You’d finally be able to get to know some of the people here. You had moved from Chicago to a small town in Texas. Your college roommate Megan had got you that amazing job offer that you couldn't decline. And, because she moved in with her fiancé, she even offered you her old apartment, which you gladly accepted. But the first few weeks in the new job had taken all your time. And Megan didn't have time to show you your new home in Texas either, she was occupied with her wedding. So you didn't know a lot of people yet.

When you saw him for the first time at the wedding, you immediately knew that you would fall for him. He was not only attractive, he had an aura of self-esteem and authority that you couldn’t call anything but ‘big dick energy’.

You watched him striding over to the bar. He took his drink from the bartender and turned, letting his gaze wander through the crowd. You realized too late that his head turned in your direction and when your looks met, you dropped your eyes to the floor hastily. Surely he could see you blush even from the opposite of the room. You walked over to your friend, trying to look like you were very much busy with something else as that gorgeous big guy. But to your shock, only a few moments later, he came over to you. 

He bent his head down to you and whispered: “No need to turn away darlin', I like being eye-fucked by beautiful women.” And he winked at you and walked away with a cocky smile spread over his face.

Now you were sure that everyone in the room could see your cheeks glow brightly. Megan grinned at you, she was near enough to overhear his words. 

“That was Sy. He's quite the charmer, right?” You covered your eyes with your hand. 

“Doing my best to embarrass myself at the first opportunity,” you said, grimacing. But Megan insisted that he didn't want to embarrass you but he was flirting. 

Over the evening, every now and then your look met Sy's. And every time, he gave you a smile. But you were glad that he didn't come over to talk to you anymore because you felt like you would only be stuttering. Especially after the wine you were drinking made your tongue heavy.

When Megan and her now-husband Fletcher had left, you decided to go home, too. You got to know some people and had fun during the evening but you still felt a bit like an outsider and you were too tired for conversations anyway. So you grabbed your cardigan and your purse and headed for the door.

As soon as you looked up, you saw Sy’s eyes, following you the whole way through the room. He had gotten rid of his jacket and his bow tie. The first buttons of his shirt were open now and the sleeves were rolled up over his elbows. That man was a fucking tease on legs and he knew exactly what he was doing. He was standing close to the exit, so you had no other choice as to walk past him. And when you were close enough, he saluted you with two fingers. 

“Sweet dreams, sugar! Hope I see you again soon.” You gave him a shy smile, not daring to speak. Sitting in the Uber that got you home, you wondered if he was talking like that to all the women today, or if he was curious about the ‘new girl’, or maybe he truly was interested in you.

It was unbearably hot the last few days and you were so happy to finally have a free weekend to spend with your new-found friends. Megan, you and a couple of other people had planned a trip to the beach. When you walked down the boardwalk you got really excited. You were a summer girl through and through and you loved the sea.

You were lying on a blanket, sipping on your drink and reading, when you heard some of the guys cheering. You looked up, thinking they were playing a game or something like that, when you saw them waving at someone. You turned around and almost choked on your lemonade when you saw who was walking up to your group. He was wearing camo shorts, a red shirt that was probably a size too small for him and some dark aviators. Like the first time you had seen him, Sy strode along with an attitude of big dick energy that took your breath away. 

After the wedding you couldn’t get him out of your mind anymore and so you were really disappointed that you hadn’t met him ever since. You had tried to subtly ask Megan about him, but of course she knew right away. She told you that he is in the army and he was always quite busy when he was on leave, working on his house, meeting friends and family. But yet you always hoped he would show up when you were out. Three months later you had given up and almost forgot about him, and that's the moment he appeared in your life again.

You turned back to reading your book, trying to look unaffected. But Megan dropped beside you the next moment.

"Look who has time for his friends today…" she said to you playfully. You closed your book and sat up, but instead of an answer, you just rolled your eyes at her. Sy had reached your group and greeted everyone with a nod and a smile. One of the guys handed him a beer can and they started talking. 

Megan, of course, couldn't stop teasing you. "So, how do you like him better, in a suit or with that tight shirt?" She grinned at you. "Damn, I should have waited until he went swimming for that question, I guess. It would be an easier decision then." 

You smacked her on her shoulder but both of you were giggling. "I don't think it would be an easy decision at all. He looks damn fine in a suit, but this shirt is… uh… nice, too. I doubt it can get any better." Megan knew you were going to learn soon how wrong you were so she just let out a loud belly laugh.

Sy looked over to you two, probably searching for the source of laughter. And you could tell the moment when he noticed you were there, too. His eyes got slightly wider and his mouth fell open for a second. He turned his head back to the guy he was talking to, but he seemed to be distracted, fiddling with his fingers, licking his lips and every so often squinting over in your direction. You were surprised to see him like that. This wasn't the confident guy you had seen until now. 

Megan saw it, too.  "D'ahw, he likes you, girl!" she remarked. 

You tried your best to act normal and apparently Sy found back to his cocky self after a while, too. But when he grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it over his head, you couldn’t keep your composure any longer. 

“Fuck me!” you mumbled under your breath. Megan shoved her elbow into your side, grinning. 

“Told you so!” she sing-songed into your ear. You both watched how Sy stepped into the water, diving into a wave. 

Megan’s husband Fletcher dropped down next to you. “Ladies, you are staring!” he said amusedly. 

You decided that you should go back to reading when Megan and Fletcher got up to get some sandwiches. But the book you read lead into a quite smutty scene exactly now that you tried to stop thinking about that half-naked hunk in the water. That didn’t help at all! You rolled over to lie on your stomach. At least you weren’t able to look at him now. 

Two pages later, a shadow fell upon you and your book. Followed by tiny cold drops of water dripping down your warm skin. You let out a shriek and turned to see who it was that startled you like that. You had to squint your eyes due to the sun, but it was very clear whose wide frame was standing in front of you. Sy threw a towel into the sand next to you and sat down.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to make you scream like that.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a cocky smirk. "Watchu reading?” He nodded at your book. 

Oh no! You definitely didn’t want to tell him about that cheesy vampire smut. “Uhm, just a fantasy novel,” you muttered under your breath, hoping that this would be enough information for him. But you weren't lucky. 

“Fantasy? Really? I read a lot of fantasy stuff myself. What is it? Maybe I have read it, too.” Sy grabbed your book from between your arms faster than you could react. He turned it to look onto the cover. 

Sy amusedly raised an eyebrow when he saw the artwork and the title. “Hu, now that is probably still on my to-read-list,” he said with a deep chuckle. 

You wished the sand under you would just swallow you, so you didn’t have to look into these beautiful ocean blue eyes next to you ever again. You were mortified! As Sy noticed you not only blushing but also turning your head away from him, he shook his head. 

“Shush, hey, I’m just joking. I didn’t want to make you feel bad.” He laid your book down again onto your blanket and instead put his hand onto your shoulder. 

That was unexpected. But it felt good and somehow it made you feel more comfortable again. You turned to look into his face again and you noticed that the cheeky grin had disappeared and was replaced with a warm smile. 

“I’m Sy, by the way. But I guess someone already told you.” He looked over to Megan.

You nodded and gave him your name. “But I guess someone already told you,” you parroted him, which he answered with a smirk. “But Sy isn’t your real name, right?” you asked. Sy raised his right eyebrow and pulled up one corner of his mouth. He probably had to answer this question way too often. 

“Benjamin Jacob Syverson it is. But since there were four Ben’s in our football team we had to get creative with the nicknames.” He drew quotation marks into the air with his fingers at the word ‘creative’. “And somehow ‘Sy’ stuck with me. Even my sister calls me Sy now, which is quite stupid if you think about it.” There was that deep chuckle again that gave you goosebumps despite you lying in the warm Texas summer sun. 

Sy and you got to talk and you soon realized that he not only had a hypnotizing appeal, but he also was smart and your conversation with him just felt so easy and relaxed. Damn, you were falling hard for him. It was the second time you saw him, the first time you talked to him and there you were, totally smitten.

When Megan came back to you and practically pulled you with her into the water you were almost furious that she had interrupted your talk with Sy. But then you saw him following you into the waves and you couldn’t be mad at Megan anymore.

The rest of the day felt like a summer daydream. You were swimming, drinking, laughing. And all the time Sy was somewhere around you. In the evening Megan and Fletcher asked you to join them for a beach volleyball match. 

“We need a fourth person,” you said, looking around. 

Megan's cousin Terry came over to you. “I could join!” he suggested. But then Sy stood up and stepped between you and Terry.

“No offense, but it would be kind of unfair teaming her up with you, Terry. You would look like hobbits playing against giants. I think she needs a partner that is a little bit taller than you.” And yes, Sy looked ridiculous tall next to Terry. And broad. And sexy. 

So it was you and Sy against Fletcher and Megan. It was no surprise to you that Sy was very competitive. He went all in, throwing himself into the sand, sweat running down his bare back. You enjoyed every minute of it. In the end you won and before you could think, you found yourself jumping onto Sy, hugging him like a koala. 

He grabbed you by your thighs and chuckled. “That was worth the fight!”

In the next couple of weeks you met Sy sometimes at the bar or at gatherings with friends but to your disappointment you never got that close to him anymore like you did at that day on the beach. You were tempted to ask Fletcher for his phone number, but somehow you wanted him to make the next step. Maybe you were kind of old-fashioned but you wanted him to woo you. And so you were waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

And then there was this day in October, the sun was shining and you were driving home from your office, singing loud and wrong to your favorite songs. Ahead of you you noticed a truck standing in the dirt beside the road. The hood was open and you saw a pair of jeans leaning against the front. 

Okay, you were taught to be kind and offer help. But you were also a woman alone on an empty road. You struggled if you should stop. Reducing your speed, you carefully approached the car. And then you let out a snort when you saw who was standing at his broken truck. 

“Hey Sy, need a savior?” you asked him with a wide grin when you stopped next to him. He looked up from under the hood and answered with a surprised huff.

"I'm not sure what kind of help I need at all right now, darlin'. I thought I could fix that goddamn piece of scrap like I usually do. But it seems this time it's not that easy." Sy scrowled while scratching the back of his head with his greasy fingers.

You parked your car in front of his truck and got out to him. You leaned against the fender and looked onto the engine as if you had any idea how cars work. Well, to be honest, you looked at Sy's arms and hands that rested on some parts of which you had, of course, no idea what they were. Somehow this grime look, greasy and oily, affected you more than you would have guessed. As if you needed to be more drawn to that guy as you already were.

Sy ruttled on some cables, according to his facial expression not with any success. "Sugar, can you get into the car and try to start it?"

You climbed into the driver's cabin and adjusted the seat a good amount forward so you'd be able to get to the pedals. You turned the keys but the car just spat out some sad noises.

Sy shook his head and worked on some other cables. "Once more, please?"

You tried again but there was no change. The engine didn't start.

Sy dropped the hood shut and kicked against the tyre. "That damn marten probably munched on my cables again. I'm gonna kill that little bastard!"

He got to the driver's cabin and held out his hand. "Can you give me a ride into town, darlin'?"

"Sure!" you answered, although your voice didn't sound sure at all. You put your hand in his and jumped to the ground. But you didn't expect that fluttering feeling that suddenly hit your stomach and so you stumbled forwards. 

Sy's arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush into his embrace. You didn't even feel embarrassed as you inhaled his scent while you stayed in his arms way too long for that accidental situation.

"You okay?" he asked you when you had finally managed to take a step back.

You nodded and gave him a smile. "Yeah, I'm just awful clumsy," you told him. 

Both of you got into your car, Sy looking ridiculously big in the passenger's seat of your Toyota Yaris. You turned down the volume of the radio and talked with him for a few miles. 

"You really care for your truck, don't you?" you asked him. You had noticed that although it was an old model it was very well maintained.

Sy gave you a strange look, somehow sad. "Yes. I really hope it's just that stupid rodent again and nothing more serious. The truck was my dad's! He gave it to me on my 16th birthday. It was old even back then but it was mine." He took a deep breath before he continued. "I lost my dad half a year later. He didn't come back from Iraq."

"Oh!" Your hand reached out to his and pressed it slightly. This time you were prepared for the sensation of feeling his warmth. "I'm sorry," you said in loss of other words.

A silence fell upon you that wasn't actually uncomfortable but after some time you felt like you needed to say something.

"So, where can I drop you off? Some repair shop?" Sy shook his head.

"No, I'm just texting my cousin to go fetch the car and I'll fix it on my own. Could you please drive me home?"

You nodded and continued to drive in silence until you made it to town. Sy cleared his throat like he wanted to say something, but didn't continue. At the next crossroad you turned left. Sy turned his head to you and finally started to speak.

"You know where I live?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, although he looked more amused than surprised. Heat crept up your cheeks and ears. You felt like a stalker. Probably because you were a stalker.  Megan had pointed out his house when you were driving by a few weeks ago. And maybe you had made a little detour sometimes since then, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. 

"It's a small town." You shrugged awkwardly and luckily he didn't seem to mind.

"That's true. How'chu like it here? A little bit different than Chicago, hu?" A grin spread over his face.

"Hell, yes, but in a good way. I know people are always talking about southern hospitality, but you know, it's really true. At least here in this town. I feel so welcome, I made more friends in these few months than in Chicago in half of my life."

Sy's chest puffed out proud when he listened to you, which was really kind of cute.

"And do you enjoy the southern hospitality of someone in particular?" he asked next. You weren't quite sure if you understood that question correctly so you just blinked at him.

"Are you seeing someone?" Sy rephrased with a wink.

"Oh!" You felt stupid. "No, not like that." You hadn't even finished your sentence when Sy's smile widened across his face.

"That's good!"he said, just to correct himself in the next second. "I mean, it's not good that you don't have someone. It's good because I actually wanted to ask you out."

You felt your heart race in your chest. He really wanted to go on a date with you? Yes, that's what he had said.

"I'd love that!" you told him.

Sy didn't say anything in response but grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your palm. Though you felt like you couldn't focus on driving any longer somehow you made it to his house shortly after. 

Sy let go of your hand and you both got out of your car. With wide steps, Sy circled around the car to get to you. 

"Thanks for the ride, sugar!" He leaned down to you and gave you a kiss on your cheek. It was so gentle you almost weren't able to feel it. What a shame!

Sy pulled his mobile out of his back pocket, unlocked it and gave it to you.

"If you give me your number I'm gonna text you later. If you really want to go out with me, it is, of course." The wink he gave you made sure that he was very well aware that you wanted to. So you added your number and gave it back to him. He held the phone up, silently asking for permission to take a photo of you. You gave him a small nod. But instead of taking a picture immediately, Sy leaned forward to kiss you once more on your cheek. This time his soft lips rested longer on your skin. And while he was kissing you, he took a selfie of you two.  

"Sy!" You were too flabbergasted to really enjoy it but the feeling in your stomach told you, you really liked him being so near to you.

Sy looked at his screen grinning and held it up for you. You looked absolutely ridiculous, eyes wide in surprise.

"Oh no, please delete this. I'm looking so stupid!" you begged him, but he just chuckled and shook his head. 

"No, you're pretty as a speckled pup!"

Over the next week Sy and you had texted with each other every day and when you really had a bad day at work, he had even called you and you talked for almost two hours, feeling so much better after. 

When you met with Megan on Friday for lunch you were starting to get nervous because of the upcoming date.

"I have no idea what he's up to. He told me it's a surprise but what the hell am I supposed to wear?" You shoved your salad from one side of the plate to the other, not really eating much at all.

"Girl, calm down. Just wear some tight jeans and a top. And nice matching underwear, of course." Megan giggled as you gave her an annoyed look.

You were under the shower when you heard your mobile ring. Hastily you grabbed a towel and went to answer the phone. It was Sy. 

"Hey, handsome!" You sat down on your bed, ignoring the fact that you were still dripping wet.

"Hey!" The hesitant, almost silent answer made your heart drop. This was the sound of someone knowing they'll disappoint you soon. He changed his mind.

"Sugar, I'm so sorry. I won't be able to go out with you." There it was. You gulped, not able to say something, so Sy continued.

"I got notice that I have to leave next week. I..  There's a lot I have to get done before that. I wasn't expecting to be deployed that soon."

You still just sat there. He was leaving in a few days. You won't be able to see him for months. And he chose to cancel your date. The last chance to be with you.

"Darlin', I'm sorry. I really am." 

"It's okay, Sy. I understand." You really did. But it hurt nevertheless.

You had hoped for some texts coming from him. Some sign that he was thinking of you. 

Then you thought that maybe he wasn't able to send messages at all. But when Fletcher told you that he had gotten text messages from him you knew that this wasn't true. He just didn't want to stay in contact with you. 

Well, it's not like you two were a thing after all. You barely knew each other. 

You tried to move on, tried to forget him. Megan even managed to persuade you to go on a few blind dates with guys she thought would distract you enough. 

But nothing you did was enough to stop thinking about him. Every night you lay in your bed, thinking of the few moments you had shared or wondering what he was going through right now.

After a while you hid your heartache from your friends, even Megan was sure you were over Sy. And so no one thought it would be hard for you to come to the homecoming party your friends organized for him. But it was.

You look up to the stars, blinking the tears away that gather in the corners of your eyes. The night sky in Texas is so beautiful. But it makes you feel even smaller and insignificant. Maybe you should just go home. 

You get up but instead of just leaving, of course, you have to glance over to him again. He leans over to Fletcher, talking and gesturing. Both men share another look and then Sy walks away. He moves into your direction. Fuck!

The whole evening you pondered what you would say to him when he would come over to you. If he would come over to you.

Now your brain just feels empty. You turn around again, looking up to the sky once more. You hear his heavy footsteps approaching. And then you feel his warm hands rub over your arms.

"Damn, you're freezing, darlin'. Why dont'chu get a little closer to the fire?" His hands don't stop moving up and down your arms and he even moves closer to you and you feel the heat of his chest on your back.

"I want to look at the stars. At the fire it's too bright." 

You feel Sy nodding. You two stand there for what feels like an eternity without talking.

"You didn't say hi," he remarks after a while. 

“You didn’t say goodbye!” is your answer and you can’t hide the bitterness in your words. 

Sy inhales deeply. “I didn’t,” is all he says. Then he pulls his Hoodie over his head and gives it to you. “Here, you are shivering.” 

You don’t want to accept it, but he is right. You really are freezing. And you need to talk with Sy, give it a closure, whatever it was that you two had last year.

So you put it on. And you realize immediately that this was a fault. You take in the scent it radiates. The scent that takes you back to the moments where you were lucky enough to be near him. When he leaned down to you at Megan’s wedding, that day on the beach when you jumped into his arms, the day you stumbled into his embrace and he kissed your cheek. 

“I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to sit there waiting for me when we didn’t even know if this is something worth waiting for. And to be honest, I wanted to protect myself, too. I was afraid I couldn’t make it through these months if I felt more for you than I already did.”

Sy sits down on the rock, his thighs spread wide. He pulls you down to sit in between them and wraps his arms around you. 

“Didn’t help anyway. I couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you the whole fuckin’ time. Every hour of every day of every week of every month. Was starin’ at the stars so often. Always thought that at least they are the same, shining down on me and you. That made me feel a little bit nearer to you. And I was lookin’ at your photo all the time.” You hear his deep chuckle, although it sounds a little bit different than you know it. It has some sad undertones this time.

Of all the things he told you, you pick the most stupid thing to answer him. “Noooo, not that stupid photo, I’m looking awful in it.”

This time Sy’s chuckle is brighter, the way you know and love it. “Nope, darlin’, already told you. Pretty as a speckled pup!”

You turn your head to look at him. And at the sight of him, looking at you so soft, the fire throwing light and shadow over his face, you know it’s going to happen. You lean into him, you can feel his breath and then finally he closes the last distance and his lips brush over yours. His whiskers tickle at the corner of your mouth but you decide immediately that you love it. 

Sy grabs you at your waist and pulls you sideways onto his lap. With the new angle, he is able to pull you closer and deepen his kiss. His tongue carefully licks over your upper lip and you respond to it by opening your mouth to let him explore it. You feel like the world around you fades away and it is just Sy and you. Both of you put all the love, all the desperation you felt in the last eight months into this kiss and so your hearts are racing when you finally part your lips again, gasping for air. 

Sy stands up, carrying you bridal style without any effort. When he moves you near the fire, you notice that everyone else is gone. Sy sees the confused expression on your face and grins.

“I asked Fletcher if he could make sure to give us a little more privacy.” Sy kneels down on a blanket next to the fire and puts you down. His wide frame leans over you the next moment and his mouth is on yours again. Soon his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw and neck, finally resting on a spot under your ear where his kisses and sucks made your whole body shiver. 

He pulls his head back, looking down onto you with his eyes dark. “Are you still cold?” he asks you. 

“No, I’m feeling as good as never before,” you whisper. Your hand travels to his jaw and you run your fingers through his coarse beard. Sy leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I can shave it!” he tells you but you shake your head. “No, I think I like it. Missing your curls though.” you answer him while running your other hand through the soft hair on the back of his head. 

“Yeah, gonna need to grow them out again. You will need something to hold onto.” He winks at you and you can’t hold back a laugh. That’s the Sy you missed so much.

You get back to kiss each other, and soon your hands are traveling over each other's bodies. The heat of the fire and of Sy’s body gets to you and you lean up to get rid of Sy’s hoodie. Sy mirrors you and pulls his shirt over his head. You gasp at the sight of his bare chest. His shoulders are even wider than you remember and you can’t help it, you want to bite into his pecs that heave with every one of his deep breaths.

You straddle him and kiss him passionately. Sy’s hands grab your ass and he pulls you impossibly close to him. You feel him pressing against your core, hard and big, and you moan at the sensation. Sy tugs on your shirt and you help him to get it off of you. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra and Sy grunts in appreciation as his hands cup both of your breasts. Soon he repalces one hand with his mouth and he circles your hard nipple with his tongue. “Damn, baby you are gorgeous!” he tells you and sinks back into the soft flesh of your breasts.

Then he moves, laying you down onto your back and slowly he trails a path of wet kisses down to your belly until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. His eyes move up to your face as his hands go for the button. Instead of an answer you help him open it and pull at your zipper. Sy rolls down your jeans, tugging the tight fabric until you are finally laying in front of him, only in your soaked panties. His beard tickles you as he kisses you all the way up from your ankle to your knee and then further up your thigh and you squirm under him. Soon you feel his warm breath through the lacy fabric of your underwear. 

“Please, Sy!” you beg and he answers you teasingly with a chaste kiss onto your clothed mound. “Sy! Please!” you plead once more and he finally listens. He pulls down your panties and parts your legs with his shoulders. And then his mouth is where you wanted it to be. 

Slowly, way too slowly, he licks with his tongue through your folds up to your clit. A gasp escapes your mouth when he reaches your pearl. Sy keeps playing with it, drawing circles around it, sucking it into his mouth. With his tongue flattened, he laps along your entrance and then he gets back to your clit again. When you already notice the tension in your middle build up, you feel a finger push into you.

Sy curls it to find your most sensitive spot. And when he reaches it, he adds a second finger and pumps them into you. All the while he rolls your clit between his lips. You can hardly breathe over the sensation Sy's tongue and fingers give you. You press your hips up to his mouth when your climax washes over you and you feel your whole body melt under his ministrations. And even after you come down from your high, Sy doesn’t stop moving over your now oversensitive pearl.

You wriggle under his touch. „Sy, come here!“ you tell him and pull him up to you. Droplets of your juices fall from his wet beard onto your chest when he leans over you with a wide grin.

He sinks his head down to you and kisses you frantically, building up the ache in your core again. You start to fumble on his belt. You’re impatient and want to feel him in every way possible. You had waited so long for this to happen, now you can’t wait a minute longer. But Sy takes all his time to drag this out.

Finally, you manage to undo his belt and your fingers work on the buttons of his jeans next.

“Sy!” you moan into his ear. “I want this so much. I want you.” He just growls in response. His mouth is on your neck and his hand travels down between your legs again. You are still not able to free him from his damn pants and you let out a frustrated huff. 

“Will you just already get out of these jeans and fuck me?” you almost cry out. Sy chuckles lightly. 

“Oh, baby, I will. Trust me. Just give me one minute. There’s a condom in my jacket.” He gets up and your gaze follows him as he walks to his truck. You take in how the thin layer of sweat that covers his back glistens in the light of the bonfire. It’s the hottest thing you have ever seen. 

He gets the condom and then, when he turns back to you, you have to correct yourself. THIS is the hottest thing you have ever seen: Sy walks back to the fire, and when he is towering over you, his chest glistening of sweat all the same, he opens his jeans and lets them drop into the dirt. He’s been going commando under them, so he stands there in all his glory. And because it’s Sy, he’s looking at you with his signature cocky smirk and his eyes dark with desire. 

You grab his hand and pull him down to you. Sy drops next to you and the moment he’s on the ground, you take your chance and get on top of him. You kiss him, starting on his neck, then going down over his chest and stomach and then you follow the trail of dark hair to his hard and veiny cock. You pause your movement to lick your lips and then you finally sink your mouth over the swollen head of his cock. Your tongue circles around it and Sy answers with a loud growl. 

You can’t take him fully into your mouth but you do your best to make him feel good with your lips, tongue and hand. And you feel him twitch and grow on your tongue.

“Baby, please, you need to stop or I’m not going to last. It’s been too long.” He pulls back and puts the condom into your hand. You sit up and carefully you open the package and roll the condom over his dick. 

Then you straddle him, one fist around his cock. Slowly, you guide him through your wet folds to your entrance. You stop for a second, your eyes meet, and your heart is going to burst by the sight of him, looking at you hungrily but also so soft. You sink down onto him, inch for inch and you can barely breathe at the sensation of him stretching you out. When you are seated completely, Sy leans up to you and kisses you. You hook your legs around his hips, put your arms around his neck and pull him tight. Your lips meet again as you start to roll your hips in a slow rhythm. 

Your breasts brush over his chest with every movement. You kiss over his jaw and his throat, grind your core on him as you ride him. Sy's head sinks down to your breasts, needily he sucks on your nipples while he rakes his nails over the soft skin of your back. 

After some time where you move on top of him in a slow pace, Sy loses his patience, grabs your sides and starts to thrust up to you. Now your hips are crashing together roughly as you both chase your high. Sy lets out deep moans in the same rhythm as his thrusts. One last time he pushes his hips up to you and then he comes with a rumbling groan. He holds you tight against his chest. You follow him only seconds after, just by feeling and hearing his release you reach your high, too and you ride him slowly until the shockwaves that rush through your body cease.

Sy softens the grip of his arms around you and looks at you with hooded eyes. You climb off of him and you fall onto the blanket next to Sy. Panting, both of you look at each other and just smile like idiots.

“So, can I finally take you on a date, then?” Sy asks and you both laugh.

Sequel: Something like that

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

Into the fire- Chapter one (Kaz x fem!reader)

"I win again."

"Son of a bitch."

"I want another go around."

"Jesper, if you go again, you'll be leaving in your birthday suit, and that is an image we can all live without."

You laughed at Inej who was seated at the table in the Crow Club you all frequently visited. Inej didn't seem fond of the idea of you joining at first. Then, after a week she seemed pretty alright with the idea. You were clean, you were kind, if she asked you to do something, you'd do it. You now even shared a room. Both of you were insomniacs with your own shitshows of trauma. After a late night of warm milk and a discussion, the friendship formed.

Jesper though, seemed friendly from the start. He had a project in mind. The "out" list, he called it. What were things that you wanted to do that you couldn't do because of your prison time or home situation? He wanted you to write it down and he'd try to help make it happen. You had this strange security of this group. They helped mend the pieces Hellgate broke and made them new.

You sat cross legged in a chair beside him watching the rain. Jesper looked at you with a grin. "Aye. That bit, line three." He said. You looked over.

"What?"

"Dance in the rain." He said.

"Oh that's ridiculous." Inej laughed.

"Still. Haven't you ever felt like... free enough to do it. Like just....dance?" You asked. She shook her head and you perked up, along with Jesper. "What?" Inej asked. Jesper got up, taking your hand.

"Come onnn!" You said to her. She shook her head.

"I'll have fun without my cold, thank you." She said.

"Party pooper" Jesper said, running outside with you.

Kaz stepped out of his office, papers in hand as he prepared to walk outside. He looked up though when he heard muffled laughing. Inej shook her head with a smile as her and Kaz watched you play in the rain with Jesper. "What is she doing?" Kaz asked.

"She's enjoying her time being free." Inej said, watching you. Jesper picked you up in a hug, spinning you around as you laughed.

Kaz couldn't explain it. That smile, that radiant laugh. He had only known you two weeks and he seemed to enjoy the fact that you seemingly fit right into the Dregs. Hell, even stone cold Xander at the bar enjoyed your presence. You had this way of making people naturally fall in love with you, whether it be platonic or romantic.

You took Jesper's hat, giggling as he pretended to fall at your feet. The rain was your favorite, even in the Hellgate. It helped tell you a passage of time, it also masked that smell of death the nearby island caused. Now that you were out, you loved the rain even more. That feeling of it on your skin, the freedom to walk in it, actually walk without being on a chained leash. You weren't held by those chains anymore.

Kaz cleared his throat, Inej biting back an urge to smile. She knew Kaz, as much as he didn't want to admit it, was definitely falling for you, just like everyone else. If anything it was worse because it definitely wasn't platonic and it didn't just end with a sexual desire. If he had you, he wanted all of you. Not just your body but your heart and soul. He wanted to know you beyond what he had seen already, and Inej knew that.

"You could join them, you know." Inej said.

"And catch a cold?" He asked sarcastically.

"I don't believe that's stopping them." She said.

"What are they even doing out there?" Kaz asked. "Well, they're dancing." She said.

"Yes, I see that they're dancing Inej, why are they dancing?" He asked.

"Jesper and her have some sort of list and they're checking off one of the things on the list." She said.

"What, like a shopping list?" Kaz asked.

"No like a bucket list." Inej corrected.

"A what?"

"Saints Kaz- a bucket list. A list of things you want to do before you die." He looked at her confused.

"Is she dying?"

"No, she just has a list of things she wants to do now that she's free. I said it was like a bucket list, not actually a bucket list." Inej said with a sigh.

Inej reached over into your bag, handing him a folded piece of paper. He read it. You had at least eighty things on that list. They were things Kaz didn't even think anyone would actually desire. "See the stars in the country, lay in a field of flowers. These are all so... trivial." He said.

"Yeah but as someone who didn't have that freedom to make it trivial, it means the world to her." Inej said. Kaz looked at the list again and rose a brow.

"She doesn't know how to swim." He said.

"Hmm?" She asked. He showed her a bullet point.

"Learn to swim." Inej shrugged. Kaz noticed one bullet point that caught his eye. "Kiss someone I love" was written below learning to swim.

"Y'know, if you want to get to know her better, you could actually talk to her." Inej said. Kaz frowned.

"I don't want to get to know her." He said.

"Right, so you're just contently watching her and Jesper because you're not intrigued by her personality." She said, looking at him. He opened his mouth but closed it, looking at her with a glare. "I'm just saying, if you want to know her, you can spend time with her." Inej said. Kaz rolled his eyes.

"We have a job we need to discuss." He said. Inej sighed, grabbing her coat. The two walked out and Kaz looked at you and Jesper.

"You're going to catch a cold " Kaz said.

"Oh but a fun one, isn't that right Y/n?" Jesper asked. You let out a laugh, one that nearly made him weak in the knees.

"We have a job in the morning. Y/n, be in the Slat office." He said.

"Just me?" You asked. Inej looked over at him, biting back a smirk.

"Just you." He nodded.

You gave a small salute with a grin. "You got it" You said before Jesper scooped you up. You giggled and Kaz cleared his throat to bite back that smile that was forming.

"Have fun with your pneumonia." He said sarcastically.

"We will" Jesper laughed.

The next morning you made for his office, standing at his desk. "I'm surprised you don't have a cold." Kaz said, not looking up from papers.

"Jesper does. I'm used to the cold and damp weather." You shrugged. He nodded. "So, am I going alone?" You asked.

"No." He said. "Oh. I figured it was just me here-"

"I'm going with you." He said. You rose a brow.

"What?" You asked.

"Jesper has seen how you work, Inej has seen how you work, yet I haven't seen it." He said. You shrugged.

"Alright, where are we going?" You asked.

"Financial district." He said. You nodded.

"Alright, lead the way." You said. He got up, walking out with you. The rain from yesterday had stopped, the sun barely peaking out from behind the clouds. You seemed to take note of the rain drops that were still dripping off of awnings. You had a smile on your face, looking at the crows that sat on the edges of the buildings.

"Inej tells me you have a list." He said.

"The whole thing was Jesper's idea." You said.

"It sounds like something he'd come up with." He said. You nodded.

"I love the list though. It makes me live life to the fullest." You said, Kaz looking at you with a brow raised.

"What things are on the list, exactly?" He asked, as if he didn't read the damn thing in full.

"Eh. Simple stuff. Dance in the rain, lay in a field of flowers. Cheesy stuff like that." You shrugged.

"Mm. Sounds... time consuming." He said.

"Well yeah but it's worth it." You said.

"If you say so." He said, walking.

"So what is this job exactly?" You asked.

"Do you know who an Alvia Warner is?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Very wealthy." He said. You nodded, smelling the faint scent of coffee.

"Y'know... it occurs to me that I work for you but I don't know anything about you." You said. He looked over.

"You can ask me things, I might not answer." He said simply.

"Do you like coffee?" You asked.

"Yes." He answered.

"Do you read?" You asked.

"On occasion."

"Hobbies?" You asked.

"None."

"Surely you've got at least one."

"I make my enemies terrified to sleep at night." He answered.

"Alright then." You said.

"If we're being open, what about you?" He asked.

"What about me?" You asked.

"Where are you from?" He asked. You showed a visible discomfort.

"Djerholm" you answered. Kaz stopped and you turned.

"You are nobility?" He asked, staring at you with a slight sense of betrayal.

"No. My family is nobility, I am disowned. I'm just me." You said.

"Why were you disowned?" Kaz asked.

"I didn't wish to wed a man." You said walking again. Kaz followed you.

"I was forced into an arranged marriage where I would've been the subject of a very cruel hearted man. I would've been forced to bare his children, I would've been beaten regularly by him, I would've most likely died by his hand. So I had a choice. Stay there and die, or leave and fight." You said. Kaz found that to be a respectable answer.

"What makes you so sure that you would've died?" Kaz asked.

"Because a girl married him six months after I left. She was found dead with a letter opener in her throat." You said.

Kaz was shocked by this answer.

"Do Inej and Jesper know?" He asked.

"Of course they do. We live in the same complex and I share a room with Inej. Plus, my mannerisms don't exactly scream Ketterdam." You said. So Kaz was the only one unaware of your background. Maybe Inej was right, maybe he did need to actually be around you more.

"Why the sudden curiosity about me?" You asked.

"I gave you food, a bed, a job and yet I have no idea who you are. You should know, I do not like not knowing things that are crucial, so if you have anything else in your bag like another bloodthirsty sister, I'd appreciate it if you told me." He said.

"I have only one other sister and she wouldn't hurt a fly. Eloise is married, with two children. She married a good man. She used to write to me before... Hellgate." You explained.

"Mm. So I must ask. What made Pekka notice you?" Kaz asked. You sighed.

"You pick enough locks, people notice. You charm enough people, their tongues will wag your name eventually in conversation. I wasn't exactly offered a position, my sister found me because of my name being brought up. So she decided to fight dirty. She offered me up to Pekka. She tried to sell me to him." You said. Kaz felt disgusted by this statement. "When I managed to escape him multiple times, they got crafty. Cornered me, framed me and then put me in prison." You said.

"In Pekka's prison." Kaz muttered.

"Exactly. It gave him that control he wanted." You said.

"May I ask a question?" You asked. There it was. Now that it was pointed out, Kaz noticed your polite demeanor.

"Fine."

"How did you manage to break me out without someone looking for me afterwards?" You asked.

"Simple. We found a corspe that looked like you and put it on the rocks." Kaz said.

"But you hadn't met me yet, how did you know-"

"Dahlia showed us a picture." Kaz said.

"Mm." Was all you said.

Kaz noticed that face you made when Dahlia was mentioned. Regret and sadness. "Was Dahlia always like that?" He asked.

"No. Father's cruelty made her that way." You answered.

"Abusive?" Kaz asked.

"He wanted sons. He got three daughters." You said. Kaz grimaced.

"I've never understood the patriarchal bullshit the rich have come up with. Two of my finest crows are women for fuck's sake." Kaz sighed. You laughed, looking at him. He was confused by your reaction.

"Sorry-sorry. For someone who typically keeps his nose out of politics, I find it hilarious that you have such a strong opinion on that." You said. He shrugged.

"I just find it stupid." He said.

"It is stupid." You agreed with a small chuckle

"then we're in agreement, that it's stupid." He said.

When you finally got to the financial district, the afternoon had almost drifted into the evening. You followed Kaz through a small area, leading to a stone wall. He looked at it, clutching his cane. "Warner isn't home, she's at some harbor. Either way, you need to jump the fence and unlock it from the back so I can get in." He said. You nodded. "Now I can try to give you a boost-"

"no need." You said, already backing away from the wall.

You charged full speed at the wall, gaining a good footing before jumping over. You landed next to a sundial, seeing the various gardening tools poking out of a small wood shed nearby. The garden itself was beautiful and had you had the time and were by yourself, you absolutely would've explored more. However, you walked to the back entrance, unlocking it and motioning for Kaz to enter.

He walked with you as you shut the gate, motioning for him to lead the way. He approached a door and you kneeled to the lock. "Does she have any security measures?" You asked.

"None that the casers found." He answered, you nodding as you picked the lock. There was a soft click in a matter of seconds that surprised Kaz. He didn't think that he could even do it that fast.

You walked in, looking around at the home. It was nice, there was no doubt about it. White walls bordered with brown panelings aligned the wall, the sun creeping through the window. You walked. "So we're looking for what exactly?" You asked.

"Documents." He said, walking. You opened a door, revealing a bathroom. You closed it, walking to the foyet. It was a nice home, reminded you almost of the one you grew up in. However your father seemed to take to the color black than the warm red that this home had. This house felt like a home. That place would never be home to you.

You noticed a door, opening it. Or at least tried to open it. It was locked, and you had been doing this long enough to know that locked doors inside a locked house meant something was in that room. Something of value.

You knelt to the lock, picking it. You kept your hand on a dagger just in case something had gone unchecked. It was an empty office, much to your relief. "Kaz" you called. He walked over, nodding.

"This would be where they are." He said walking in. You followed behind, looking at the various shelves.

You saw many classics on the wall, some of which were in different languages. You were rather impressed with the collection. Kaz however, had a frown on his face as he rummaged through the drawers.

"Where the hell is this woman keeping it?" He asked.

"Keeping what?" You asked.

"There is money mixed with the documents. There's nothing here." He said.

"Money mixed with it? What are we looking for? Mortage payments? Taxes?"

"A dowry." He said.

You stared at him. "Kaz, why the hell are we looking for a dowry?" You asked.

"Because, multiple reasons. One, money." He said, still shuffling through the papers.

"And?"

"Two, sabotage." He said. You rose a brow. "Where would you hide a dowry?" He asked. You walked over to the desk, sitting at the chair. "Seriously? Do you need a break right now-"

You noticed a botton under the desk, pressing it and opening a secret compartment. He looked at you. "Sometimes you have to see it from their perspective." You shrugged getting up. Kaz opened the compartment, occasionally looking over his shoulder at you with slight bewilderment.

"Alright. It's here." He said.

"Why sabotage the marriage?" You asked.

"Tax reasons. This marriage goes through, she becomes a high ranked chair. Taxes go up, then it becomes harder to live." He said.

"Didn't take you as a tax evader." You said.

"I'm a criminal of many sorts." He said. You looked and noticed a letter.

You picked it up, reading it. Kaz counted the money to make sure she wasn't too clever, hiding it in several places. Instead it appeared she just stopped at a secret button, much to his relief. You had a frown on your face. "Let's go-"

"Kaz. This marriage is the least of our worries." You said. He looked up. You handed him the letter.

"...Shit."

"I know." You said.

It appears the clever little Alvia was prepared to execute her plan no matter if she married into the vote. Her plan was that if she didn't marry her, she'd have a friend go through with it instead, convincing this Killian fellow to vote for her spot.

You sighed. "What do we do?" You asked.

"It seems that it's a backed up plan. Taking this will do nothing." He said.

"Well it gives you money." You said.

"I can't believe this. How did we not know this?" He asked.

"She might know someone is on this path." You said.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. You had an idea come to mind. "We could sabotage the match." You said.

"Kill one of them?" He asked.

"No. Because if we kill him, that leaves the open seat." You said.

"So kill Alvia." He said.

"That leaves him to find someone else like her to be put in position." You said. Kaz sighed.

"And people wonder why I don't give two shits about politics. Kill them both!" He said.

"Leaves the seat open still and then we're back to square one unless you want a go at the seat." You said.

"I think I'd rather die." He said.

"Exactly. We throw a wrench in the plan." You said.

"How?" He asked.

"We give him another option." You said.

"...I'm still not understanding this." He said.

"You put a different girl in front of him. Look, I know these people, they're easily distracted by pretty shit, especially men. So put a pretty girl like say, me, in front of him and he's too distracted to get married to her. Once the vote of chairs goes through, he hasn't put the money on anyone noteworthy." You said. Kaz stared at you in awe.

"You just came up with this?" He asked.

"Again. Grew up in this. I know how to play the game." You said.

"No kidding." He said. You sighed.

"We need to leave before this woman comes back." You said.

"Agreed. Let's go." He said.

You both headed back, the sun slowly setting as you two walked. Kaz recalled a point on your list. "Hey, follow me for a moment." He said.

"Shortcut?" You asked.

"Something like that." He said. You followed him to a ladder, him tossing his cane up before going up. You were confused but followed him up.

You walked for a little bit before Kaz sat down. "Sit." He said. You obeyed, sitting next to him. The entire time you had been looking at Kaz, trying to figure out what he was doing. You chose to follow his gaze this time, looking at a beautiful sunset.

"Woah" you said surprised.

"I might have taken a look at the list." He admitted. You looked over at him.

"I thought it was time consuming?" You said confused.

"It is. But sometimes it's alright to take a moment to use that time." He said. You smiled slightly, turning back to the view.

"I owe you a lot you know." You said. He looked over.

"Quite a few people do." He said.

"I owe you my life." You said, not taking your eyes off the view.

"I wouldn't go that far-"

"You broke me out of Hellgate. Then when the job went wrong you took me in. You saved my life." You said looking at him.

"Why bring this up?" He asked.

"Because I want you to know that even though we don't know everything about each other, I still will trust you." You said. You sighed. "I don't expect you to trust me. I've heard your faith in others runs very thin. But if you ever need me, you need only to call on me." You said.

Kaz had heard someone pledge their undying loyalty to him before. People tend to be grateful when you give them food when their near the verge of starvation. However, this was the first time he believed in that loyalty. He didn't know how to respond to that. "You're right." He said, looking forward. "I don't trust easily." He said getting up.

Kaz, the entire walk back hadn't said anything else. You didn't know if you upset him or what but it was clear Kaz was in his head. Truth be told he realized what he had wasn't a damn crush at all. This wasn't going to just go away with time like the bit with Inej. He had fallen in love with you and that made him upset.

"Love is vulnerability" he told himself. "Love is a weakness." He hated that feeling. He wanted to yell at you, tell you off and say that you were an annoyance. But everytime he looked at you all he could think was that he could never say that to someone so pure of heart. Which was odd to him because he literally watched you beat a man to death with his cane. However that didn't seem to affect that purity in his mind.

You both entered the crow club, Kaz sighing and sitting at the bar. "Job go well?" Inej asked sitting next to him. You sat with Jesper at a table, slinging your legs over his. "It went... fine." He said. "You got that dowry you wanted, right?" She asked.

"Yes but it seems Alvia has a bigger plan." He said.

"What?"

Kaz explained the situation to Inej, her sighing. "Of fucking course the one job we take with a politician gets messy." She sighed.

"Precisely why I tried to tell Per Haskell to not fucking do it." He sighed.

"It was his idea?" Inej asked.

"Yes! Which I understand why, but I know he's going to go with Y/n's plan which will take up a ton of time!" He said frustrated. She blinked.

"Y/n has a plan?" Inej asked.

So you all sat at a table as you broke down the idea you had in the study. Kaz seemed to agree that the plan would definitely work, the only issue was that something seemed to irk him about it and Jesper could not figure out why. "Well there's just one issue with the plan." Inej said, sitting back.

"Yes?" You asked.

"Say we do it. It works, she's not in the chair, all is well in Ketterdam. What about Killian?" She asked.

"What about Killian?" Kaz asked, looking at her.

"We can't just have her be a distraction and then disappear, it'll be obvious what happened and people will come looking." Inej said.

"Shit." Kaz sighed.

"Well I thought about that actually." You said.

"Look at our girl being all smart over here." Jesper teased. You rolled your eyes but continued.

"A love triangle."

Inej rose a brow.

"What?" Kaz and Jesper asked.

"A love triangle. It's a good way to cut it off. Just have one of the guys do a fake proposal." You shrugged.

"Well we can't just send one in to randomly propose." Inej said. What was Inej doing?

"You'll have to just keep close to one of the guys at social engagements so it appears you're at least familiar with them." Inej said.

Kaz then realized what Inej was doing.

"Hm. That should do the trick to have it not lead back to us." Jesper agreed.

"I know, I'm a genius." You said, satisfied with the plan.

"Well boys, who should do it?" Inej asked, looking directly at Kaz.

"Jesper has the most chemistry with her." Kaz said. You and Jesper both cringed.

"Uhm... Jesper isn't-"

"We're definitely not-"

"No offense but... ew." You said.

"Offense slightly taken! I'm ew!?" Jesper asked. "No not visually! I just mean that it'd be like trying to romance my brother it's..." both you and Jesper shuddered.

"Yeah no, Kaz you're going to have to step up." Jesper agreed. Inej seemed satisfied with her input, a smug smirk on her lips.

"Fine." Kaz sighed.

"Then it's settled." You nodded.

"Yep." Kaz sighed.

"Well then, how about a round?" You asked.

"I can go for one." Jesper said.

"I feel in the spirit to drink as well." Inej said.

"Care to join us boss?" You asked Kaz. He sighed, looking at Inej and then you. He was going to have to spend a lot of time with you regardless. He was apparently now supposed to fake being in love with you. He had to get close to you and he had learned through Inej and Jesper that a good way to form a bond, was through drinking with them after a mission.

"I'll stay for one drink."

[forest-hashira]

Lucky Shot

I'M BACK AGAIN i have just been on a roll with writing lately but you know what? i'm not complaining lol. anyways, this is my second entry to @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab! you can find my first entry here, but be sure to keep an eye on the masterlist for the other entries!!! this is the first time i've written solo suguru/reader so. be nice to me pls. also plese check out this art by @/diosaurr! i had already started writing this fic when they posted it, but three separate people tagged me in it knowing i was writing the fic so i want everyone else to see it, too!

read on ao3 here | wc: ~2.7k | cw: fem! reader (i know who am i???), outlaw!suguru, saloon girl!reader, gun violence, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of death. if those things will upset you i suggest you give this one a pass!

Maybe you should have listened to your father after all.

He’d told you countless times that traveling west, especially without a family or close group to help you out and keep your best interests at heart, would be difficult at best and dangerous at worst. Especially for a young unmarried woman such as yourself. 

But you had always been headstrong and stubborn, and your father had always been a worrier, so you assumed he was exaggerating to discourage you, his eldest daughter, from following your dream and going out west. You secretly saved up money for months, and at the first given opportunity to leave your family and head west, you’d taken it, leaving only a goodbye note for your parents and younger siblings when you slipped from the house in the early hours of the morning. 

Turns out, your father wasn’t exaggerating. Joining a party as a solo traveler had proven even more difficult and dangerous than you could have anticipated. You managed to make it out west, just like you wanted, but you had no money to your name, only the clothes on your back and two other outfits in a bag as you walked through the town, wandering from business to business, asking for work; you’d nearly wept with relief when the saloon owner said you looked like you could have some potential as a saloon girl, after you cleaned up. 

He’d provided you a boarding room above the saloon and a new outfit – the ones you had weren’t up to his standards – up front, and while you appreciated it, you also knew he’d be taking that out of your pay until he decided those things were covered, which you could only guess would be never.

Despite the strings that came attached to your new job, things weren’t all bad. You got to know people in the town pretty quickly – the ones that frequented the saloon, anyways – and you were always in the loop about local “news”, most of which was just gossip. 

One character of particular interest in the local gossip was a man named Geto Suguru. When you’d asked what was so interesting about him, you’d gotten some questioning looks, until you’d said you had only just recently moved out west. After you were shown his wanted poster, though, you began to understand. 

He was one of the most – if not the most – attractive man you’d ever seen. Dark hair that fell past his shoulders; thin, almost cat-like eyes; and even in the poster, there was a sly look on his face. 

Not only that, but he was wanted for robbing stagecoaches, stealing money and jewelry from rich people who gave into his – apparently – intimidating presence. He was also known for spending that money generously in towns all over the west supporting local businesses; plenty of women from across the state also bragged about the jewelry he would gift them, simply because he thought it looked good on them. 

After spending weeks hearing stories – that you were certain had to be at least a little exaggerated – about this pretty outlaw and staring at his wanted poster, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never see him with your own eyes. 

So you couldn’t have been more surprised when you watched the man himself walk into your saloon without any sort of fanfare or dramatics and sit at the bar. 

You stared at him, eyes wide, until he gave you a small smile. 

“I’ve heard you’ll catch flies if you leave your mouth open too long,” he said, smooth voice lilting with amusement. 

Realizing he meant you, you quickly snapped your mouth shut, your whole face burning with embarrassment. “You try meeting a living legend when you’ve only lived in the area for a couple months, see how you react,” you snapped back. When you realized what you’d said, you opened your mouth to apologize, but stopped when you saw the way his eyes sparkled with interest, one perfect brow arched in your direction.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” he chuckled. “I think I like you already, new girl.”

“What do you want to drink?” You turned away from him to grab a glass, hoping he didn’t pick up on how flustered you were over the nickname. 

“Surprise me.”

You straightened at that, and now it was your turn to arch a brow as you looked him over. His expression never wavered, his head tilted slightly as he waited to see what you decided to serve him. 

With a quiet huff, you turned your back to him, looking over your selection of liquors. Part of you wanted to serve him the cheapest, nastiest drink you carried, just to see if he would actually drink it or demand another drink, but ultimately you decided against it. Instead, you reached for the top shelf, grabbing the unopened bottle of some fancy imported scotch your boss had just gotten in a couple days before. 

“Opening a bottle just for me?” Geto asked, still with that playful tone. “Well now I feel special.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you threatened, turning as if to put the bottle back in its place. 

He held up his hands, as if in surrender, and you set the bottle down on the bar to grab a glass, though you took a brief moment to admire how strong even just his hands looked. 

Setting the glass in front of him, you broke the seal on the bottle, then intentionally poured him about three times as much of the amber liquid as you were supposed to. Your boss could yell at you about it later. 

Geto lifted the glass, tipping it towards you slightly in thanks, before taking a sip.

Just as you were about to speak to the outlaw in front of you again, the saloon doors swung open in your peripheral vision, and you looked up to see the sheriff walking towards the bar.

“Afternoon, sheriff,” you greeted him, glancing briefly at Geto to see what his reaction was, and you were only a little surprised that he had no reaction at all. “Your usual?”

The sheriff tipped his hat to you, sitting down at the opposite end of the bar from the bandit. “Please and thank you.”

With a nod, you placed the bottle of scotch on the counter behind the bar, then grabbed another glass and the brand of whiskey the sheriff always drank. You walked down the length of the bar, setting the glass in front of him and pouring his drink – the expected amount of liquor for him, unlike the bandit down the bar – before you walked away to put the bottle back. 

You felt hyper-aware of the two customers at the bar, worried that any second now the sheriff would recognize the outlaw and all hell would break loose, especially when the other patrons at the tables in the building were always itching for some sort of fight, just because they thought it was entertaining. 

In the end, though, it wasn’t the sheriff that recognized Geto, it was another customer that walked up to the bar to get another drink.

“You look familiar,” the man drawled, narrowing his eyes as he analyzed Geto’s face as best as his intoxicated mind could manage. 

“I get that a lot,” the outlaw answered evenly, not sparing the man a second glance.

“No, I’ve definitely seen you somewhere before…” he trailed off, scowling, his gaze wandering until it landed on the handful of wanted posters hung on the wall beside the bar. His eyes lit up with recognition, and you swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“You’re that stagecoach robber!” the man exclaimed, turning back to Geto; out of the corner of your eye you saw the sheriff turn to face the commotion.

Shit, this is bad, you thought, placing the man’s beer on the bar in front of him, though he was far beyond caring about the drink anymore.

“I’m pretty sure you have no proof of that.”

“That’s your face on the poster,” the man insisted, then turned his attention to you. “Don’t you think?” 

“It looks like it could be a lot of people,” you replied lamely, grimacing at how obvious of a lie it was.

The man scowled at you. “Shoulda known better than t’ask a whore,” he spat, slurring his words a bit. “Whores always lie.”

Almost before he finished speaking, Geto grabbed the man’s collar and slammed his face down onto the bar. “Apologize to her,” he said, voice calm but eyes sharp with anger. 

You blinked in surprise at what had just happened, and once you processed what had been said to you, you found that you were quite offended, and also quite pleased that this outlaw had taken up for you so quickly. 

“Like hell!” the man protested, struggling against Geto’s hold. Even with his head forcibly pressed to the bar top, though, the man managed to pull his gun from his holster. 

The scene before you seemed to slow impossibly for a moment: the sound of the gun cocking, seeing it aimed at Geto, the man’s finger going for the trigger. Then suddenly everything was back to normal speed, and the outlaw used his free hand to shove the gun to no longer be aimed at him just as the trigger was pulled. 

You turned your head to see where it landed, and you watched in horror as a wound burst into existence in the sheriff’s shoulder, blood soaking into his shirt in an instant. He let out a shout of pain, clutching at the wound with his hand.

“You rat bastard!” the man shouted, working to cock his gun and aim it at Geto again, but the outlaw was quicker, pulling out his own gun, pressing it to the man’s ribs, and shooting him almost before you could process what he was doing. 

There was a wet gasping sound from the man, and when Geto’s hold on his collar was finally released, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, his gun sliding out of his hand. You couldn’t tell if he was dead yet or not, but he certainly wasn’t making any effort to get off the floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the sheriff draw his own gun and aim it, but it was in his non-dominant hand, so the bullet did not hit the robber as the sheriff intended; instead, it shattered the whiskey glass on the bar in front of you, and you dropped to the ground in fear.

With your hands over your head, you kept as low as you could. You couldn’t see what was happening anymore, but from what you could hear, at least half of the other patrons of the saloon had joined in the gunfight. Stray bullets hit the wall behind the bar, shattering multiple bottles of liquor, including the fancy bottle of scotch. My boss is going to be so pissed, you thought, an oddly practical thought to have in the midst of hiding and praying you weren’t accidentally shot.

Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, a bullet tore through the front of the bar, sticking in the cabinet about six inches from your head. With a shriek, you scrambled aside, towards the end of the bar; maybe if you were lucky, there would be time for you to slip out of the building without being caught in the crossfire. 

You scanned the building as quickly as you could while keeping yourself hidden, not wanting to make yourself any more of a target than you already were. Bullets were still flying, leaving no chance for your escape, and you cursed under your breath; you were going to be stuck here until everyone ran out of ammo. 

As you looked around, you noticed the first man that Geto had shot, a pool of blood slowly growing beneath his torso. His chest still rose and fell slightly, but his eyes were glassy; he was alive, but he was not long for this world. Suddenly, you remembered that he had dropped his gun when he had fallen, and you scanned the area around him for it, finding it a foot or so from his outstretched hand.

Deciding to run the risk of getting shot, you lunged for it, gripping it tightly in your hand once it was in your grasp. You’d never held a gun in your life, much less shot one, but having this one in your possession made you feel a little less cornered, a little less helpless.

Daring a glance upward, you saw that Geto had turned so that his back was to you and another corner of the saloon. Another patron had somehow managed to sneak around into the outlaw’s blind spot, and was clearly gearing up to shoot him in the back of the head. Knowing you couldn’t just sit there and watch it happen, you fumbled with the gun, your sweaty hands failing to pull back the hammer twice before you succeeded. With no clue how to accurately aim the weapon, you pointed it at his leg, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulled the trigger.

A shout of pain a moment later indicated that you had hit… someone, and you quickly opened your eyes again to make sure you hadn’t somehow hit Geto by accident. Thankfully, you hadn’t. The man you’d been aiming at had taken the shot to his knee – which actually had been what you were hoping to hit when you fired – bringing him down to the floor on one knee.

The shout was enough to alert the outlaw to the threat behind him, and he wasted no time spinning around and drilling him between the eyes. He slipped his guns – you saw now that he had two, rather than one like you had first thought – back into their holsters as the last man’s body dropped to the floor.

Once there was no longer another person blocking you from his view, Geto blinked in surprise, smiling as he stepped over the body and crouched down in front of you.

“You shot him?” he asked, his eyes glinting. The sight made you realize you’d been wrong before, when you’d thought his eyes were catlike in his wanted poster; in person they were foxlike, sharp and intelligent and clever.

“I-I, uh… yeah, I shot him.”

“Have you ever fired a gun before?”

“Not until just now.”

He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the bulletwound squarely in the side of the man’s knee. “You’re a good shot,” he observed, turning back to face you.

“Uh… thanks?”

He chuckled then, a low, smooth sound that made your stomach cartwheel. “You’re welcome.” A beat passed, then another, as he examined your face, though you were unsure what he was looking for. 

“What?” you demanded, scowling at him despite the way your hands were still shaking.

“You should come with me.”

“Huh?”

“You should come with me,” Geto repeated easily. “I think you’d be a good addition to my crew. Besides, it really won’t be a good look for you if people come in and see you here with a gun after I get the hell out of here.” There was a slight smirk tugging at his lips, and despite the fact that you probably should have taken his words as a threat, you didn’t.

“What the hell,” you sighed. “It’s not like I have anyone keeping me here.”

“Wonderful,” he said, offering you a hand up off the floor, which you readily accepted. “Get what you need from your room and meet me outside. Be quick, my guess is that someone will come to investigate all the noise sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, brushing broken glass from your dress and your hair as you hurried towards the stairs, unable to hide the grin tugging at your own lips.

Maybe not listening to your father had been the right decision after all.

tagging: @kentopedia @kentohours @mitsuristoleme

[bookshelf-dust]

community service

ghostface!billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 3,714

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, being drunk, drunk driving, domestic abuse (super small mention), rather violent and descriptive murder, literally this is just murder, slight suggestive ideas

a/n: hi!! look at me! i remembered how to write! anyway. this fic has been in the drafts for months, but here it is. one of the kills is inspired by a kill from scream 2, and another is from *i think* the first season of chucky. anyway. it’s not gonna be for everyone! it’s dark and fucked up and kinda questionable. but it’s also for my masked men lovers. i see you. i am you. i hope you enjoy!! i love you!! <333

other ghostface! au’s: steddie & eddie

————

You check your watch for what seems like the millionth time, only for a few minutes to have passed since the last time you looked. Billy is late again, but at least now you know why. 

You hadn’t been stupid enough to think he was having an affair, not when you know so much better than that. When you know he’d do anything for you. 

The longer you sit here, the more unfocused your eyes get, and you start to think about everything you’ve realized over the past week. Part of you has known for longer. You just didn’t want to overanalyze this, not like you do everything else. 

You hoped he’d come to you. But clearly he wants to keep this to himself. 

He’d been doing well, too, up until you found the smear of blood inside the bathroom cabinet. He’d pranced around the room half-naked that night after his shower, so you knew he wasn’t the one who’d been injured.

Last week you decided to clean out the closet on your day off. You remembered a pair of shoes that you hadn’t seen in forever, and began looking through all the boxes buried in the corners, under piles of clothes discarded in a rush to get ready. 

You’d pulled the lid off a surprisingly light box, only to find a mask. One you’d seen in costume stores, at Halloween parties. On the news. 

And you just knew. 

There hadn’t ever been an instance where he’d worn it. None of his simple Halloween costumes ever required a mask. He hadn’t ever worn it for you, even if you’d like that much more than you’re sure is normal. 

What’s more concerning is that this realization–it didn’t scare you. You aren’t scared now, sitting in the living room, waiting for him to come home, knowing exactly what he’s been up to. He probably thinks you’re in bed by now, anticipating him joining you. 

Instead, you sit curled in a chair, socked feet tucked up under you. Your body is tired, you can feel as much, but your mind won’t rest until you’ve taken care of this. 

It’s then, when you’re starting to get sick of waiting, that you hear the sound of heavy footsteps, thick-soled boots bounding up the front stairs. Your spine straightens, eyes glued to the way the lock turns with a twist of his key, his shadow as it spills across the floor when he walks inside. 

Billy isn’t surprised to see the living room glowing in a yellow light. You usually leave it on for him anyway. What he’s not expecting is to see you sitting in your chair, chin resting on your hand, as you watch him remove his jacket. 

“What are you doing up so late, baby?” 

You don’t move, just keep your eyes on him as he walks towards you. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, a very tight one, and it occurs to you that you haven’t seen his arms in a little while. They’re bigger. You’re sure of it. 

“It’s only eleven forty-five,” you say. 

He laughs, dropping gently to his knees in front of you, hands going to rest on your own. He presses a kiss to the top of your bare thigh. 

“You’re usually in bed by now.”

He kisses your knee, lips warm against your skin except for where the cold metal of his new piercing touches you. It’s healed, but still strange to see him with it after all this time.

“Wanted to see you.”

Billy is in love with you. And that means he knows you like the back of his hand. So this, the way you’ve sat out here for him, that sad but almost frustrated look in your eye, it tells him everything he needs to know.

It tells him that you know. 

You’re a very intelligent woman. You’re his smart girl, and he knew you’d figure it out sooner or later. He’d only kept it from you because he knew you’d worry. Knew you’d overthink it and make yourself crazy. He just wanted you to have some peace of mind. But clearly that hasn’t worked out so well.

“And ask you something,” you continue, reaching down to twist one of his curls around your finger.

There it is. 

“Shoot.” Billy wraps his hands around the backs of your knees, fingertips still chilly from the cool night air. His grip is soft, but still possessive. 

You rub your nose, look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath.

“When were you gonna let me in on your little secret?”

You can feel his breath on your bare legs when he exhales. He tilts his head and presses his cheek gently against your knee. 

“Look at me,” he says, voice firm. You oblige. 

“It feels kind of shitty that you kept it from me. That I only found out because I decided to be productive for once and do a little cleaning. We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other, Billy. That’s what makes this work.”

When you’ve finished, he straightens his back and pushes off the floor. He’s looming over you now. It doesn’t intimidate you, even if it should. If other people might be scared of him. 

That’s what he’s stuck on. You’re not scared. You’re not angry about what he’s doing. You’re concerned about fucking communication. 

He leans down and sets his hands against the armrests of your chair. You have no choice but to look him in the eye. 

“You’re my girl. It’s a crazy world out there.” He lifts one hand and runs his thumb underneath your eye before removing it again. “I gotta keep you safe.”

You drop your head back against the chair. “Jesus christ, Billy. This goes both ways. I want to take care of you just like you do for me. I don’t think it’s fair that you kept this to yourself when I could’ve helped you deal with it, I don’t know.”

He doesn’t scoff. He doesn’t even quirk a brow. He’s taking you seriously, just like always.

“What, you wanna clean me up or somethin’?”

You’re quiet. He rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek. 

“You know the answer to that.”

Billy takes your chin in his hand. “I apologize for not telling you earlier. I didn’t want to worry you. It takes awhile to get back from Hawkins, that’s why I’ve been home so late. Work was just an excuse.”

“Hawkins?”

He kisses you, mouth slotting against your own. The way he sucks on your bottom lip leaves you feeling dazed, though you know that’s exactly why he does it. Just to see the look in your eye. He should’ve known you’d take this well.

“Yeah. ‘Lotta shit left behind back there. Best to do some community service while I can, don’t you think?”

There’s a bruise on his bicep, dark in the dim lighting of your living room. 

“Yeah, Billy. I think so.”

————

The phone hooked to the wall in Jason’s office starts to ring. He rolls his eyes. Anyone important enough would know what time of day it is, and that means he’s busy. 

Jason stands still at the altar, flipping through the last few pages of notes he made for his next service. He checks his watch, noting that he should start confessionals soon. His shoulders rise and fall, steady breaths filling his lungs. 

The phone keeps ringing, and it’s starting to make him angry. He stops what he’s doing and stomps out in the hall, stepping just far enough inside the small room to answer the phone.

“What?”

The line is silent, but someone is on the other side, and he knows it. 

“Hello? What do you want?”

He hears someone inhale. “Why don’t you lose the attitude, Carver? Still haven’t gotten that stick outta your ass?”

Jason puts the phone in his other hand. 

“Excuse me? Who is this?”

“No need to worry about that, Pastor Carver. Now, would you like to play a game, Jason?”

The blonde rubs a hand over his forehead. What is he, five?

“No. I have a job to do. Grow up.” He hangs up the phone, slamming it back in its place before walking back out. 

Jason is older now. Went to community college, pursued ministry. He always knew that’s where he would end up. It’s what he deserves. It gives him great power, preaching. 

Not that a damn word that comes out of his mouth isn’t bullshit. 

But this is what he is good at. He will not be teased. He is important, and he knows it. 

He collects his notes from where he’d set them on the altar, picks up his personalized Bible, slips the cap back onto his pen. 

The confessional booth is set up in the corner, against the wall with the biggest window. He thinks it’s the most beautiful spot in the church, what with the way the stain glass plays across the floor. 

He enters the booth, thumb entwining in the chain around his neck. When Jason started his work, he’d taken part in confessionals much more often. Now that he’s so committed, he has to schedule a specific time period where people can come in. 

And he knows they will. They always do. People praise Pastor Carver for being so wise, for guiding them in the right direction, into the right hands.

But he doesn’t take kindly to criticism. He knows what he’s doing. He was made for this. Now he can protect people like him from the people he went to high school with. Now he has real power.

There’s some light shuffling coming from the other side of the booth. Did someone come in? Maybe he didn’t hear them over that stupid phone call. He shouldn’t have answered. 

“Hello? Is someone there?”

He’s met with silence. He listens, but there’s nothing. He knows he heard something. He’s still young, in perfect health. He doesn’t make mistakes like that.

“We can begin whenever you’re ready,” he says, wondering if maybe whoever is in the other booth might be shy. If maybe they’re a new member of the church congress.

Still he gets no response. He doesn’t like being ignored. What is with people today? 

Jason presses the side of his face against the wood, trying to hear through the small gaps. They’re not wide enough to see through clearly, but he gets a glance at something moving. He knew it. He hears the shuffle again, temper rising.

“Listen, If you’re not gonna—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. A knife, with a freshly sharpened blade, slices through that cheap wood, settling in his cheek. He can’t speak. The metal scrapes against his teeth. If he were to try, he’d certainly lose his tongue. 

Blood fills his mouth, and his ears start to ring. He can’t breathe, can’t hear. When the knife is yanked back, pulled maliciously from his face, he’s so completely shocked that he falls, brain malfunctioning. Shutting down, surely. 

Quick and easy was best for someone like Jason Carver. Such a big fuckin’ mouth. Never using it for any good, only to push his corrupt agenda on others—like he’s some god. 

He should’ve played the damn game. Maybe Billy ought to forego the phone calls and get eight to it. Seems that being blunt is the only way to get through to these assholes. 

Wiping his knife off against his robe, Billy steps out of the booth and walks around to Jason’s side. The man sits on the floor, slumped against the seat. His eyes are open, but he’s lost too much blood to be able to form a retort. 

Billy leans down, grabbing at the chain around Jason’s neck. The blonde tries to grab for this mysterious figure's arm, tries to do anything, but it doesn’t matter. 

The chain breaks easily, gold cross standing out against his gloved hand. He tucks it into his pocket. Such a waste of space, this guy. So fucking pretentious. 

Billy has never been happier to take out the trash. 

————

When Billy gets home, he’s pissed. Mainly because he’s dirty. Carver was a bleeder, got that shit everywhere. It’s on the hem of his robe, caked onto his shoe where he had to step up and get the necklace off. 

But more so, he’s pissed that he has to be the one to do this. That people are so blind to the shit storm around them. 

He kicks the back door shut behind him. 

“Billy?” Your voice calls out to him. 

“Headin’ to the bathroom, sweet thing.” He hears you hop off the bed and pad down the hall. 

You’re such a fuckin’ sweetheart. He can’t believe it. 

You walk into the bathroom the moment he throws the mask down on the toilet seat, blood staining the white material. You watch him put his shoes and the robe in the tub. 

He spins around, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, baby. How’s my girl?”

You meet him halfway for a kiss. “I’m okay. Are you?”

“Better now that I’m with you. Listen, can you do me a favor, sugar?”

You nod. 

“In the back of the closet, you know where, there’s a little jewelry box. Can you bring it in here?”

“Of course.”

He winks at you, tying his curls up on the top of his head. “Be quick.”

When you return, he opens the box, and your heart drops at the sheer amount of jewelry inside. But the longer you look, the more you realize what this is.

He’s kept something from everyone. There are rings. Chains. Keyrings. Holy shit. There’s a pair of earrings that look like some Karen Wheeler used to wear. Something very expensive looking, like only a Harrington would have. There’s a lighter, too. With the last name Byers engraved on it. 

You stop gawking when Billy tosses the cross necklace inside. He’s almost done. And when he is, you’ll both get out of here. He’s gonna give you such a good life. You just don’t know his plans yet. 

“It’s so much safer without them here, you know that, baby?”

Billy looks you in the eye. You push a curl back behind his ear. 

“I know. You do such a good job, Billy.”

————

Tommy Hagan has been a piece of shit since elementary school, and he’s destined to be one for the rest of his life. 

He works at a car dealership, still in Hawkins, still drinking and pretending like he’s seventeen. He peaked in high school, and everyone knows it. Shit, he knows it, and that’s why he’s still clinging to this lifestyle, even when no one else has. 

Fucking Steve Harrington even got his ass out of Hawkins, and that’s saying something. Tommy thought Steve would be there for the rest of his life, raising that stupid family he blabbed about, sending the kids to the same schools, but no.

Even Carol left. The woman he should have married. The chick he treated like shit after they graduated, all because he wasn’t ready to grow up–and she was. 

He’s still not ready. Not as he sits in his living room, alone because his wife went to stay with her sister. He’s been drinking out of his ass lately, and the other night, he put his hands on her. Tommy isn’t even sure he cares, if he’s honest with himself. 

He’s an insecure asshole. He was in high school, and Billy saw the way he treated you because you were quiet. Saw the way he spoke to Carol when they were alone, the way he’d corner other girls at football games or parties, even when Carol was looking for him. 

It doesn’t matter who he married. Not really. Tommy Hagan was destined to become a deadbeat wife-beater, and he’d never have had the initiative to change that. 

He finishes the beer he’s been nursing and pushes off the couch, heading for the kitchen to find another.

He tosses the bottle into the garbage can rather than the recycling, and it seems to hit hard enough that it shatters inside the trash bag. He shrugs it off. It’s not like he ever takes it out anyway. 

Tommy pulls the refrigerator door open, metal handle cool under his fingertips. That was his last beer.

“Y’gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He slams the door closed, the rattling of jars and bottles inside echoing throughout the quiet room. He presses his forehead against the wall, thinking. Shit, if he can’t drink, he might as well eat something.

There’s a TV dinner in the freezer. He pulls it out, shoving it in the microwave as quickly as possible.

Something else that hasn’t changed: how fucking impatient Tommy is. He can’t even handle waiting the two minutes required for his food.

He opens drawers, trying to find the silverware before realizing it’s all dirty. He can’t believe this shit. 

He yanks open the dishwasher and pulls out the bottom rack. The microwave starts to beep though, and Tommy backs off for a moment to retrieve his dinner. 

With how loud the beeping was, he didn’t hear anyone approach. Didn’t hear the floorboards creak. Didn’t realize that there was someone lurking behind him.

He removes the TV dinner and wipes his hands down his face. “Fuckin’ hell.”

He bends down once more, reaching for a knife so that he’ll be able to cut up his tiny steak. 

He doesn’t expect to be shoved, not in the safety of his own home. And he’s certainly not quick enough or to be able to prevent it himself from stumbling, tripping, unable to catch himself. He yells out, but there’s no one else to hear it. 

He grabs for the counter, but it’s much too slippery with that fucking vinyl countertop. He’s got no chance. 

Tommy Hagan falls forward. When he realizes where he’s headed, what his body is falling over, he thinks for a moment that he should try and brace himself for the fall. But it’s no use. Nothing about his situation is providing him a way out. 

His body collides with the silverware basket, into every knife and fork standing there. Like they were waiting for him.

It’s happened so fast that he can’t even scream. All that comes out is a strangled moan. He’s bleeding and he can feel it. He can hear the footsteps behind him, and he tries to reach for the floor, tries to push up and twist to see who’s done this to him. His hand slips in the mess, but he doesn’t have to do much when someone is pulling his hair, using it as leverage to yank him up. The knives below him scrape and drag, his skin tugging in unnatural ways. 

Tommy coughs, blood filling his mouth. He can’t speak. He can’t do the one thing he’s good at: open that big mouth. 

The masked figure looming over him grabs his other hand, causing him to press further into the silverware. He screams, but it comes out garbled as they tug off his wedding ring. 

Tommy’s hair is released, and he sinks impossibly deeper, metal piercing everything. 

“Such a shame, Hagan.” The figure speaks. Tommy doesn’t recognize the voice. He wishes he could yell, ask what they want, why they’re doing this–but he can’t. 

“Never deserved that wife of yours. Never deserved anything you got. But this? Yeah, this is the surprise you needed.”

The last thing Tommy hears is his own front door slamming shut and locking. How did they get a key? He’ll never know. He’ll die here, and no one is coming for him. 

————

When Billy slips into bed with you that night, he coaxes your head onto his chest, wanting to feel you. Wanting to know that you’re really there. He leans down to kiss you, finding your eyes glued to the closet door. You know it’s in there. 

“What is it, baby?”

You blink, shaking your head. You sit up some, and slip your hand under the edge of his t-shirt, fingers running over the soft of his warm tummy. 

“Is this fulfilling for you? Is it something you think you’ll do forever?”

Billy allows himself to think for a moment, and while he does, he gently pulls you closer, leaning up to get that kiss he wanted. When he pulls away, he has an answer for you.

“It’s not something I want to do forever, no. I know we moved to the city and out of Hawkins, but I go back there because it doesn’t feel right to leave those motherfuckers there, roaming around and making it worse. There are good people there, and they don’t deserve to live in a place that’s drowning in shit. So yeah, it’s fulfilling in that I know I can make it a better place. I can protect the people who once protected me.”

And that’s true. Joyce is still there. He talks to her on the phone a few times a week. Shit, the woman is practically his surrogate mother. Max is still there, in college with her friends. Sure, she’ll transfer soon, but still. He can’t leave it like that. 

He would’ve taken care of Neil had he not done that himself. Stomped off one night, drunk, and never came home. He got in an accident. Billy was glad to skip that chore. 

“I’m almost done, sweetheart, I promise. Just wanted to leave behind something better. I won’t do this much longer. Just wanna keep you safe. It’s so scary out there, baby. I only want the best for you.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, watching his chest rise and fall. This should freak you out, shouldn’t it? It should alarm you? It doesn’t. He’s so good at this. He’s a natural. Doesn’t leave a trace. You do feel safer, admittedly.

“I understand. I just want you to be careful.”

His nails scratch lightly at your neck. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve got this. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby. This hellhole is gonna be so much better when I’m done.”

“Yeah, Billy. It is. Then maybe we can get out of here for real.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[dreamofbecoming]

here we are at last! there have been a bunch of posts lately about how neither eddie nor robin have any gaydar to speak of, but steve canonically does, and also vickie definitely left fast times paused on purpose as a flag, and frankly all of you are just so objectively True and Correct that i had no choice but to write about it. parts 1 and 2 not strictly necessary for context but definitely set in the same universe

part 1 part 2 ao3

platonic stobin, rockie, steddie

rating: t

wc: 8.4k (holy fuck it got away from me)

---

Robbie isn't drunk yet, but she's getting there.

Honestly, Steve should probably slow her down, but what the hell. They're celebrating, after all. He'll cut her off in a bit, but she deserves to have some fun. They all do.

It's been three weeks since Eddie got out of the hospital, one since he was finally let off bedrest. Or, not exactly bedrest, but enough restrictions that he was basically confined to the trailer (brand new, courtesy of Owens and his goons), and from the way he complained the whole time you'd think they had him chained to the bedposts.

Hm. Maybe thinking of Eddie chained to bedposts isn't the best use of Steve's time. Not here, anyway. That's a Later activity.

It's the first house party any of them have been invited to since Spring Break, thrown by one of Robin's band friends. None of them planned on going, except that two days ago a frantic call came over the All Hands channel on the walkie that El had finally broken through, Max was awake, and the doctors thought her arms and legs would eventually, almost, make a full recovery, granted with lots of physical therapy.

Apparently the only useful thing Vecna ever did was break her bones at right angles so they could set them cleanly. Her vision will probably never fully return, but she's alive. She's alive, and she's awake, and she's apparently being a complete menace to the nurses, which is more comforting to Steve than any of the rest of it, so how could they ask for anything else?

Steve still feels like he's taking his first real breath after drowning every time he inhales. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling this relief. It's so sharp it's almost painful.

So they're at this party, and they're celebrating. There's a real celebration planned, of course, with the whole Party and assorted extras, Murray (ugh) and Jonathan's California friend (who seems nice), Joyce and Hopper (and isn't that a trip) and Eddie and Wayne (Eddie read him in immediately, to no one's surprise) and everyone else. They've got plans to descend on Steve's house as soon as Max is allowed out of the hospital, where they'll presumably trash his mother's nice white carpets and eat through his snacks like locusts and enrage his neighbors with their shrieking in the pool. Hopper and Wayne will fight over who gets to work the grill until Joyce gets fed up and takes over and Eddie will commandeer the sound system and Robin will laugh at Steve for frantically switching between Host Mode and Lifeguard Mode until she finds someone big enough to sit on him and make him eat something. He can't wait.

But for now, they're at this party, and they're celebrating. With someone else's alcohol, which is a nice treat for Steve.

He's leaning against the wall by the kitchen doorway, sipping something Robin made him that tastes like paint thinner and looks like undiluted red food dye. He's surprised it hasn't eaten through the bottom of the cup like that green gunk from the elevator. He doesn't quite feel like joining the crush of people in the living room. He's felt a little off since Spring Break, a little lost inside his head. He knows Robin can tell, but she hasn't pushed him, other than dragging him here tonight. He's so grateful for her he thinks he could cry.

He doesn't, though, he just watches her from the kitchen doorway, squished on a couch between Vickie and who he thinks might be one of Eddie's bandmates. He recognizes him from those nights he would pick the kids up from Hellfire at the school, and also from Eddie's hospital room. He's got fluffy hair and a flannel shirt around his waist. Gary, maybe? Garth? Steve's not sure. He'd introduce himself and find out for sure, but apparently, carrying Eddie's bleeding not-quite-corpse on his back into the hospital and throwing around his father's name until someone agreed to treat him before collapsing in the lobby from his own injuries wasn't quite enough to erase the contempt for King Steve, so Steve's been mostly avoiding those guys. Eddie swears he's working on it. Steve...should maybe care more than it feels like he does. He thinks maybe a lot of things should feel more...more, than they do. But that's a problem for Later Steve. It's fine. He's fine. He's handling it.

He watches Robin, and she's laughing, and she's not quite drunk yet, and he's glad for her. This is what he wanted. This is what he wished for, on that flipped over bucket, in that field. That they'd all get through it. That they'd all get to keep smiling and doing stupid teenager shit. He maybe wishes he felt a little more like someone who wanted to do stupid teenager shit and a little less like someone watching his friends have fun from behind a plate-glass window, but he'll take it. Whatever he can get, he'll take it.

He looks back at Robin, and, huh. She's still laughing, but now she's between Eddie and Maybe-Gary-Maybe-Garth. He follows Robin's less-than-subtle (crimeny, this girl, he's gotta teach her a goddamn poker face) longing gaze and sees a flash of red heading for the back door.

This feels like a chance to do something useful. Robin will be ok, Eddie will keep an eye on her.

He follows Vickie out the back door. He finds her leaned against the back of the house, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. She's smiling. She really is pretty, Steve can see why Robin likes her. God, he hopes he's right about her. Either way, he's determined to find out. It's what Robin deserves.

"Hey, Vickie. Come out for some fresh air?"

Her smile gets bigger when she turns to him. He really hopes he's right about her, she's a fucking sweetheart. He hopes he isn't about to do something hugely stupid. Knowing him, he probably is, but also knowing him, he's gonna do it anyway.

"Hey Steve! Yeah, I was just getting a little warm in there. How about you? Smoke break?"

"Nah, I'm trying to quit. Robin hates them, she keeps stealing them out of my mouth, so it's somehow more expensive and I don't even get to smoke them. Easier to just stop. Which is probably her goal," he laughs.

"You and Robin are pretty close, huh?"

"Oh yeah, platonic soulmates. With a capital P!" He makes an incredibly dorky gesture with his hands, and has to stop himself from facepalming. Great going, dingus.

Still, Vickie's smile gets a little wider, which he thinks is probably a win.

"That's why I came out here, actually. I wanted a chance to talk to you." Her eyebrows go up. Always with the goddamn eyebrows around here. "Not, like, in a creepy way! Or, well, I guess that's what a creep would say, but I swear I'm not! I just meant, because Robin really likes you," shit, too much, "I mean, she likes hanging out with you, and she's my best friend and all, so I wanted to. Um. Get to know you better. You know. For Robin."

"...For Robin."

He groans. "I swear I didn't used to be like this. I used to be able to talk like a normal person. I didn't know that was a skill you could lose! I would have worked harder at it!" She's laughing at him now, but at least she's polite enough to hide her giggles behind her hand. That's something.

He sighs, and throws his head back to take a deep breath and try and come back to his body, like Robin showed him. Having therapist parents sounds like a nightmare to Steve, but it has its uses, he guesses.

He looks back at Vickie, who is watching him with what seems like more amusement than concern, so he's taking that as a win. If she's laughing, she's not running away. He sticks his hand out.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You're really important to the most important person in my life, so I'd really like to be your friend." He tries to give her his most winning smile, but honestly he's a little worried his teeth are still red from that godawful drink.

She grins at him, still definitely laughing at him a little but more genuine than before, and shakes his hand. "I'm Vickie, and you're really important to someone I hope will become really important to me, so I'd love to be your friend."

He doesn't breathe a sigh of relief, but it's a close thing. King Steve decided to stay in tonight, apparently, so he's on his own, and boy oh boy is he worse than he remembered.

"So, new friend, what do you want to get to know about me?"

Thank fuck Vickie's carrying so much of the weight here, honestly.

"We could, uh, talk about movies?" Jesus Christ, where did all the goddamn Harrington Charm go, anyway? Did Vecna eat it?!

There go the eyebrows again. He's cursed, he really is. "Movies?"

"Yeah, you know, I work at a movie store. Or I did, anyway. With Robbie. Pretty sure it went under in the quake though. That or Keith just fired us and didn't bother calling to let us know." He laughs awkwardly. He's doing fucking everything awkwardly, honestly. He hasn't even asked the question yet and he's already sweating bullets. No wonder Bobbie was so scared to confront this head-on. "Anyway, it can tell you a lot about a person, you know. Their favorite movie."

Come on, take the bait. Take it.

She nods seriously at him. "Oh I get that for sure, you can learn a lot about someone by their favorite book. I used to volunteer at the library and there was always gossip about who checked out what romance novel and whether that meant their marriage was on the rocks, you know?" She giggles, hiding behind her hand for a second. "I guess it was kind of mean, but we never said anything to anyone outside the library, and never to their face, you know? It was just something to keep us entertained on slow days."

Fantastic, he can work with this.

"Oh totally, I completely get it. Robs and I did the same thing at Family Video, making up stories about what we imagined people's lives were like that they were renting Casablanca and Gremlins on the same night, you know? Like, what does that evening look like? Which one do they watch first?"

She laughs. Perfect. She took the bait, now he's just gotta reel her in. Or something. He's never been fishing.

"You know, I usually rent my movies from Family Video. Did you guys ever look up my rental history?"

Aaaand, got her!

"You know, I think we did, actually, not that I'm helping the creep allegations," he winks at her. She slaps him on the shoulder. There we go, there's the Harrington Charm. Jesus fuck, where has it been all night? Sleeping?

Moment of truth, here we go.

"Fast Times At Ridgemont High, right?" He keeps his eyes on her face while he says it. He needs to see how she reacts.

She's been watching a raccoon rummaging through the neighbor's trash, but as soon as he mentions the movie, she whips her head around and looks at him sharply.

She studies his face intently in the glow from the floodlights above the garage. Whatever she finds, the fear in her eyes fades just slightly to caution. All good signs.

Fuck, this is harder than he remembers. Talking in code and reading all the subtle little shifts in body language involved in this conversation is stretching muscles in his brain he's forgotten he had. His friends these days all just sort of...say whatever they mean, straight out. He thought it was weird and off-putting at first, but now that he's doing this dance again, he's realizing he hasn't missed it.

The things he does for Robin, honestly.

He can see the moment she decides to trust him, even though she's still tense. She takes a deep breath, like she's gearing up for something. "That's a good one, for sure. You know, I think I maybe forgot to rewind it the last time I returned it? I paused it at my favorite part, but I think I got distracted and never finished it. I hope that doesn't cause too much trouble for you guys at your job. I'd hate to be one of those customers."

Jesus, this chick is brave. She's basically just coming right out and saying it! Holy shit, he's about to get Robbie a girlfriend! Ok, ok be cool. Bring it home, nice and easy.

"Nah, not a problem at all. Besides, I think I remember that tape, and we have the same favorite part, I think. All three of us." Fuck he hopes this isn't a mistake. If he just fucked up and outed Robin for no reason he'll- fuck, he doesn't know what he'll do. Ask El to open the gate back up so he can throw himself into it, probably.

Vickie's eyes go wide. "Robin too?" There's something like hope in her voice. He thinks. He hopes, anyway. Maybe he's just projecting, but he really thinks he's been right on the money from the start. He just needs to prove it to Rob and give them both a push.

"Yeah, Robin too. Now me, I like Fast Times a lot, but I also really like The Outsiders, you know?" A truth for a truth. Nothing is free, he remembers this dance. Trust is always earned.

He didn't realize her eyes could get any bigger, but somehow they do. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. "Really? Uh, me too! Those are...both...really good movies, you know?"

"Totally!" He's grinning now too, he can't help it. He's so excited for Robbie he might explode. This is the most alive he's felt in weeks!

"Not Rob, though, she loves Fast Times, but not so much The Outsiders. She can be, uh. Pretty nervous, you know? To talk about her taste in movies. I think she might be worried you don't like Fast Times as much as she does, but I know she really wants to, uh, watch it with you. So you might have to be the one to, you know, tell her how much you like it, and maybe ask her to watch it together?"

He's getting lost in the metaphor here. That's clear enough, right? Robbie isn't going to believe him about Vickie liking boobies unless she walks up to her and tells her "I like women, go out with me," in very small words, so he really hopes he got the message across. He needs Vickie to take the wheel on this.

Luckily Vickie is nodding enthusiastically. "For sure! I can do that!" She's halfway back to the house, almost tripping over her feet, before she looks back at him sheepishly.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, that was so rude of me, I just got so excited and I wanted to-"

"Hey, no worries, that was the goal, right? This is what I was hoping for when I came out here to talk to you. She, uh..." He shouldn't. He should stick to the code, just in case, he should be careful, it's Robbie's life on the line here.

But it's also her happiness.

"She didn't believe me. About the Fast Times thing. And then we ran into you at The War Zone, and she was totally convinced I was wrong, but I knew I had to ask. Just in case. I just really want her to be happy, you know?" There. He hasn't actually said the words. If it goes sideways, they still have plausible deniability.

And then, well. There's always Plan B. He doesn't exactly want to burn Vickie's house down, but he will. For Robin, he'll do anything.

Vickie is smiling softly at him. She really is sweet, she and Bobbie are gonna be so cute together. He can't wait to tease them into oblivion.

"I'm glad she has a friend like you, Steve."

He scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, feeling weirdly self-conscious. "Yeah, well, you know. You've got a friend like me, now, too, right?"

There's that bright smile again. "Right!"

"Alright, go on. Go get your girl."

Good lord, redheads sure can blush, huh?

He waits a couple of minutes before heading back in himself, enjoying the night air. It's not quite the height of summer yet, so the evenings aren't as muggy as they'll be in a month or so. For the first time since he crawled out of that gate with Eddie lashed to his back with the remains of the rope ladder he cut to protect Dustin, he's feeling the breeze on his skin without feeling like he's wrapped in plastic, like there's a wall around him, keeping from being part of the world. He wants to savor it, in case it goes away again.

When he does make his way back in, he almost trips over Robin, who's grabbing what should probably be her last drink. At least it's just a beer this time, if it was more of that awful concoction from earlier he'd probably take it away from her, pouting be damned. They could have flambéed Vecna with that shit, nobody should be putting it in their bodies.

Her face lights up when she notices him, and she flings herself into his arms.

"Oof, shit, Buckley, doing ok there? You having fun?"

"Sooooo much fun, Stevie!" She nuzzles her face into the crook of his shoulder. Yeah, if she's this cuddly in public, this should definitely be her last drink, especially if Vickie wants to make any kind of move tonight. She's not usually this touchy outside of the really bad nightmare nights. "Missed you though. Where'd you go? My bubba disappeared."

"Aw, Bobs, I was just outside getting some air, I promise. I didn't go anywhere."

She shakes her head stubbornly, her nose dragging along his collarbone. "Noooo, you left. Not now, before. After. In the hospital. We all came back but you left. You went inside your big stupid fluffy head and you don't come out anymore. I miss you."

It's a good thing Robin's face is still hidden in his shoulder, because he can't quite keep his expression from crumpling. He hasn't meant to hurt her, he hasn't meant to hurt anyone, he swears. He's trying, he wants to come back, wants to be normal again, he just...he feels like part of him is still stuck at the bottom of Lover's Lake, watching everyone above him on the surface moving on and living life, but not able to reach them.

He holds her tighter to his chest, petting her hair. It's a mess, like when she first wakes up in the morning. Maybe she fell off the couch or something while he was outside.

"I'm sorry, Bobbin-bird. I didn't mean to go away. I'm working on it, ok? I promise," he murmurs reassurances into her hair, trying to erase the sadness he can hear in her slurred words. He's shit at talking about feelings, especially his own, but not with Robin. Never with Robin. Saying true things to Robin isn't any harder than thinking them to himself, and honestly that's basically the same thing. They pretty much only have the one brain between them.

She pulls back, studying his face closely with bleary eyes, squeezing his cheeks between her hands. "Promise?"

"I promise, Bobbie." He tries to project as much sincerity as he can muster. She's edging past tipsy, but not actually drunk yet, so she should remember this moment just fine tomorrow, and he won't have to do it again.

Who he is kidding? They're definitely having this conversation again tomorrow. Maybe he can distract her with teasing about Vickie. Where did she go, anyway?

Robin grins, apparently satisfied for now. "Good!" She smacks a kiss to his forehead and finally lets go of his face. Thank god. He loves her, more than anything in the world, but she's a goddamned sweaty drunk.

Before she can say anything else, a redheaded streak comes stumbling into the kitchen.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Vickie leans on the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath.

Steve looks to Robin to see how she'll respond, and, oh. Well, shit. Robin is...frozen, apparently. She's very obviously focused on Vickie, which is good, because otherwise Steve would be having trouble with flashing back to Nancy's thousand-yard stare in the Upside Down, or the whites of Max's eyes, but the part of her brain that lets her, you know, say and do things, appears to have shut down.

Looks like it's Steve's turn with the communal brain, lucky him. Time to step in and save this, if he can.

"Vickie! Hi, you know, I was just wondering where you ran off to? I was about to tell Robin to track you down, to talk about that movie we talked about earlier, but it looks like you found us instead!" He jams an elbow into Robin's side as subtly as he can, but she still doesn't move.

Vickie is looking between them, still breathing a little heavy. "Yeah, I went looking for you as soon as I came back in, but Gareth said-" Gareth! That was it! "-you went to the bathroom, and did you know there are six bathrooms in this house? Who needs that many bathrooms? I think Angela only has one sibling, why would anyone need six bathrooms for four people? That's so crazy! Anyway, I'm glad I found you, Robin. I'm, uh, getting a little overwhelmed with all the people out here, so I was hoping you might want to find a room that's maybe a little quieter, so we can talk a bit? Just the two of us?" Damn, this girl's got guts. Steve likes her.

Robin continues to stand in front of the fridge like the world's prettiest scarecrow. Come on, babygirl, you can do this! He elbows her again.

"Vickie! Hi! Steve, Vickie's here! Hi!" Steve and Vickie both startle a little because, wow, ok, volume, Buckley, damn. Still. Progress.

"Sure is, babe. Tell you what, why don't I take this-" he plucks the unopened beer out of her slack hand, "-and you and Vickie can go sit down somewhere quiet and talk about movies, huh?"

Robin blinks at him owlishly. "Movies?"

He's about to make another veiled reference to the boobies conversation when Vickie blows all of her air out of her nose and stomps one foot like that one girl in the Chocolate Factory movie who reminds him of his cousin Shauna.

"I'm sorry, I can't take it! I just spent ten minutes outside talking to Steve in ridiculous codes and another ten minutes running up and down the stairs in this insane house and I'm exhausted. I can't take the metaphors anymore. Sorry, Steve, no offense."

"Hey, none taken. It's pretty exhausting, you're not wrong. I just had to be safe."

She shakes her head. "No, totally, I completely understand. I appreciate it. I'm just secret coded-out tonight, you know? Robin, do you want to go upstairs with me and talk? I have something to ask you and I'd really rather do it in private, I don't really want any of these people listening, you know?" She waves her hand at the open doorway to the living room, which is still packed with people.

Robbie's head has been bouncing back and forth between them like she's watching a tennis match, eyes wide.

"Huh? Me? What?"

Oh geez. She's shorting out.

"Bobbie, look at me." She meets his eye, and he can see the nerves threatening to overwhelm her. "Trust me?"

She nods. "Uh huh. 'Course, bubba."

Well that warms him right up, but it's not about him right now. "Good. Go with Vickie, babe. It'll be good, I promise." He hopes he can promise that, at least. He's pretty sure he can. And if it goes bad, they always have Plan B.

Vickie holds out a hand, and Robin stares at her like it might bite her, before taking it gingerly. Both girls immediately burst into bright red blushes, and under any other circumstance he would laugh at them, but this is a delicate moment. They need him to be cool. He can be cool. He can be so goddamn cool.

Vickie leads Robin out of the room and towards the stairs, both of them still blushing like crazy and refusing to meet each other's eyes, and Steve can finally let out the breath he's been holding in a whoosh and slump back against the counter. He snags a bottle opener off the fridge- neat, it's got a magnet on it!- and pops the top on the beer he stole off Robbie.

“Well I hate to break this to you, King Steve, but she’s definitely about to steal your girl.”

Steve freezes with the bottle at his lips.

He sets the beer down on the counter and very carefully turns around. Munson is alone, thank fuck. This is fixable. He can deal with a single person. If it had been a crowd, or fuck, god forbid, someone like Gareth, who hates him, and might try and use this? Hurt Robbie to hurt him? Well, he's got his nailbat in the trunk, and he isn't afraid to use it, but he doesn't think Hopper would be thrilled to have to bail him out of jail.

"Whatever you think you heard, Munson, if Robbie gets hurt, it won't matter that you're one of us now. I'll finish what those bats started. I won't be happy about it, because you're a pretty cool dude and I like hanging out with you, but I'll do it for her if you make me." He makes sure his voice is low and even, and he meets Eddie's eyes head on. He wants to be very clear, this is not a joke. He will defend her if he has to.

He doesn't think he'll have to, not from Munson, but he isn't 100% sure, and he's taken enough risks with Robbie's safety tonight. He doesn't trust his luck enough to count on it working out a second time in less than an hour.

Munson's eyes go wide with shock- he clearly wasn't expecting Steve to meet him with quite that much aggression. He puts his hands up in surrender and leans back away from Steve.

Steve fights not to be distracted by the way his torso curves, graceful in a way he has no right to be with his wounds still scabbing over. Not the moment, Steve. Get it together, for fuck's sake.

"Hey, whoa, easy big guy. We're cool, man. Stand down."

There's a tense moment where they just...stand there, sizing each other up, unsure where to go from here.

Eddie tugs a lock of hair in front of his face, nibbling on it nervously. It's cuter than it has any right to be, honestly.

"I didn't- uh. Fuck, man. Please tell me I didn't just tip you off to flirting you didn't notice. It would suck so, so bad if I exposed Birdie without her knowing."

Steve takes a moment to consider this, frankly absurd, situation. He holds up a finger for Eddie to wait a minute, and checks both ways down the hallway outside before closing the kitchen door and leaning back against it to keep it shut. At least now it'll definitely just be the two of them, which is one more than should be having this conversation, but he doesn't see a way out of it, so this will have to do.

When he turns back to Eddie, he looks even more nervous than before.

"I'm perfectly aware of the flirting, considering I'm the one who went out of my way to set them up tonight. You didn't out anyone, and I should have been the one to make sure the door was closed before I got them in a room together, so it's not your fault for finding out. You understand you can't say anything to anyone, ever, though, right?"

Because he's apparently doomed to be accosted with eyebrow raises from everyone around him anytime he says anything at all until he dies, Eddie's are lost somewhere under his bangs. He looks...impressed. Huh, that's kind of nice. Steve resists the urge to preen.

"'Course, man, I'm well-versed in the code of silence." Something in his face softens, and Steve can feel the sincerity in his next words. "Birdie's a friend, and Finnegan seems like a real sweetie, I wouldn't ever want to hurt them like that. Cross my heart." He does, in fact, draw a cross on his chest with one long, ringed finger. What a dork, holy shit. Steve wants to put that finger in his mouth.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so cool with something like that. In general, but also especially since you and Buckley are, y'know." He waves his hand expansively around his head, the kitchen lights glinting off his rings, and Steve has to fight the urge to bat at it like a cat with a laser pointer. Jesus Christ, Harrington, focus. The man just called you a homophobe, get your shit together.

He decides, very magnanimously, he thinks, to ignore the homophobe bit, honing in on the rest. "Me and her are...what, exactly?"

"I mean, aren't you guys like, a thing?" Oh Jesus fuck. Not again.

"Ugh, no, where the hell do people keep getting that? Robin and I are just friends, ok? Platonic soulmates. Capital P!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration.

"-capital P," Eddie choruses with him, "I know, I know, I just, shit, man, I dunno, I figured you were..."

"Were what?"

"...Lying? Shit, that sounds worse out loud, sorry! I just mean, because, you know, Henderson keeps saying-"

"Oh, well if Henderson says it, it must be true," Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well fuck me for trusting the kid who calls you his best friend, I guess!"

They glare at each other across the room for a minute, before the ridiculousness of this moment catches up to Steve and he drops his chin to his chest, huffing a laugh.

Eddie looks confused, and still nervous, and a little incredulous. Also a lot adorable, but that doesn't feel relevant. "Ok, I'm so lost, man. I just came in here for a beer, and this has been an emotional rollercoaster I was unprepared for."

Yeah, that about sums it up.

He hasn't spent much time with Eddie since he woke up, spending those weeks juggling babysitting duties and his own injuries and helping with the relief effort and sitting vigil at Max's side. He popped in on Eddie when he was in the building for Max, but the Munson room always had someone in it- Wayne, or Dustin, or Mike, or one of the Corroded Coffin guys- and Steve always felt a bit like an intruder. So he hasn't had a chance to feel out the suspicions he formed during that surreal week when everything was still in the process of exploding, and honestly he's been feeling a little too distant to work up the energy to bother. Robin's bugged him about it once or twice since March, but he shrugged her off each time and she hasn't brought it up in a while.

Ah, what the hell. It's already been such a weird night, and Steve is honestly feeling better than he has in weeks, and he wants to ride this high wherever it'll take him.

Emotional rollercoaster, huh? Well, Steve can make that worse.

At least Eddie hasn't seemed homophobic, kind of the opposite, actually. That's a good sign if Steve's ever seen one.

He pushes off the door, stalking toward Eddie with intent and digging deep inside himself for whatever remains of the person he used to be, who could drop panties with a single look. Eddie's eyes go very round, and he stumbles back a little into the counter.

"You know, Munson, I've had a question I've been meaning to ask you for a while now. Haven't found a good moment."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie's voice comes out in what can only be called a squeak, and Steve feels powerful. That rush of confidence he hasn't felt since BN (Before Nancy) fills his chest, and he can feel his grin turn sharp. "Ho- uh." Eddie clears his throat. "How long's a while?"

Steve purses his lips, relishing the way Eddie's eyes drop down like he can't help it and his cheeks flush, and pretends to consider the question. "Oh, since Skull Rock, probably."

"O-oh? That's. Um. That is a long time." He's still staring at Steve's lips. Good. "Well, shoot, Stevie-boy. Ask away."

Steve lets his smile spread across his face slowly, keeping Eddie's eyes where he wants them. Yeah, he's still got it. Like riding a bike.

"Do you wear this bandana on purpose, or is it just a fashion statement?"

Eddie's eyes snap up to meet his own, shocked.

"Wh-what? Bandana? I. Um. What?"

"Are you flagging, Eddie?" Steve doesn't back up, toe to toe with Eddie as he reaches out and tugs lightly on the hanky trailing out of his back pocket, as always.

He may not have had the energy to talk to Eddie about it yet, but his curiosity did get the better of him after the "earthquakes," and he did dig out that zine where he originally learned about the code. He knows what a black hanky in the back left pocket means now. It's...a little daunting, but not a turn-off. Not at all. Kind of the other thing.

God he hopes Eddie knows what it means.

Eddie seems floored by this line of questioning. He's bright red and sputtering, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Steve lets himself stare. This'll go however it goes, but he's not ashamed. He's no more embarrassed to want Eddie than he would be to want a girl, which is to say, not at all.

"I- you- what? What? You- you know what flagging is?" He hisses the end of the sentence in a harsh whisper, so much like Robin did when he first told her about his crush that he can't stop himself from giggling.

Wrong move, since Eddie clearly takes this personally, and his expression shutters closed. Whoops.

"Hey, hey, no no no, none of that, hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear."

"Right, sure, I believe that, considering there's nothing goddamn else to laugh at in this kitchen, Harrington." Eddie is glaring at the floor, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

Alright, maybe he gets what Vickie was saying earlier. Fuck the codes, fuck the metaphors. He can take Eddie in a fight if he has to. He's a simple guy, ok? He just wants to use his goddamn words.

Robin would be so proud.

He goes slowly, telegraphing every move so Eddie can stop him if he wants. He reaches for his hands where they're tucked into his elbows, gently easing them out until they're clasped between them.

He takes the opportunity to finally feel those rings he's fantasized about, seeing if they're as cool as they look. They aren't, they're warm from Eddie's skin. He spins one of them around Eddie's finger with his thumb, transfixed.

Eddie still looks tense, but now instead of hurt and distrust on his face, he looks like Steve hit in him in the head with something heavy. His pretty eyes are so big, blown completely black as he stares at their joined hands.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I was remembering the first time I told Robin I had a crush on you," Eddie's head snaps up again, "and she sounded exactly like you did just now, with that angry whisper voice. It made me laugh, that you guys are so alike. It makes sense, I guess. She's my favorite person, so of course I'd like you, when you're like. Not the same, I guess, but kinda a similar flavor of weird. She says I have a thing for nerds, y'know?"

Eddie blinks at him for a minute, apparently speechless. Some nerves start to creep back in, since the brief miscommunication scare burned out most of that white hot King Steve confidence in his chest. They must show on his face, because Eddie visibly shakes himself and finally opens his mouth.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah, man, since the Upside Down, pretty much. The first time."

"Don't call me man when you're telling me you have a crush on me!"

Steve has to laugh at the comically offended look on Eddie's face. "Sorry. Do you prefer Eds? Baby? Big Boy?"

Eddie is so red Steve is surprised his face isn't steaming. He yanks one hand out of Steve's grip to smack him in the chest. Steve laughs and lets him, dropping their still-joined hands down between them and tangling their fingers.

"You're a fucking dick, Stevie. Can't believe I like you."

Steve grins at him, big and hopeful. "Yeah? You like me, Munson?"

Eddie shoves at him with a groan, but doesn't let go of his hand. "Pretty sure everyone in this town likes you, King Steve. It's like a rite of passage, or something."

Steve feels like he could walk on air, he isn't even going to get fussy about the King Steve thing. They can talk about that later. Eddie likes him! Eddie has a crush on him! He could fight a demogorgon with his bare hands right now, that's how powerful he feels.

Eddie gets quiet after a second, tugging a curl in front of his mouth again. Seems like a nervous tick, maybe. Steve notes that for later. He may not be much of a reader, but he's going to learn to read Eddie Munson like a book if it's the last thing he does.

"I thought, um. I kinda...hn. Ugh."

"Gonna need more than that, baby, I'm not fluent in Munson yet." That glow in his chest picks up a little again at the way Eddie flushes so pink and pretty at the petname.

"I thought you were straight." It comes out all in a rush, the words mumbled and slurred together through his hair.

Finally, it's Steve's turn to raise an eyebrow. Take that, universe! "You meet a lot of straight guys who know what the Hanky Code is?"

Eddie shakes his head in wonderment. "Still can't believe The Steve Harrington knows what flagging is."

He's about to reply when the kitchen door flies open with a bang that sends the boys leaping backwards away from each other. Steve finds himself braced between Eddie and the door, brandishing the bottle opener from the fridge in front of him like a knife. He doesn't even remember grabbing it.

Robin is standing in the doorway, eyes wild and hair frizzing out around her head in a way she would despise if she was sober and not obviously preoccupied with something else.

"Jesus, Robs, you about gave me a heart attack, what the hell?"

"Sorry bubba, not important right now!"

He rolls his eyes. Of course not. Just his trauma that could have made him stab her if he hadn't caught himself, nothing major. This girl, he swears.

"Dingus! Focus!"

"Focus on what, Bobs?"

"She wants to kiss me, Steve!"

His eyes go wide. Thank fuck the door bounced off the wall and swung back shut behind her. That's not something to shout to a party full of gossipy strangers.

Still. This is a big moment! "Bobbie! What'd I tell you, huh?" He picks her up around the middle, swinging her around while she cackles wildly and bats at his shoulders.

"Put me down, you lunatic! Steven Elizabeth, you put me down right now, or I swear I'll never speak to you again!" She's laughing too hard for him to take her seriously, though.

He does take pity on her and set her back on her feet, stealing one more tight hug. He's so happy for her he could scream. This night has turned out better than he could have imagined.

"Tell me everything! What happened! What did she say? What did you say? How was the kiss?"

"Well we didn't actually kiss yet, exactly."

"Wait, then how do you know she wants to kiss you?"

"She told me! She said she thinks I'm really pretty and funny and smart and she's like you! She likes both, and she says her and Dan are done, like for real for real all the way done, and she held my hand, Steve! And she wants to go on a date! And she said she wanted to kiss me!"

"That's awesome! I'm so happy for you, Bobs. What did you say when she said she wanted to kiss you?"

"I came down to tell you about it, obviously."

Oh, Bobbie, what the fuck. "Robin James Buckley. Do not tell me that a pretty girl tried to kiss you and you ran away and left her upstairs!"

The situation finally seems to register, and Robbie's hands go flailing around her face the way they do when she's overwhelmed.

"Oh no! Steve! Oh no!"

"Go, you insane person! Go back upstairs right now and kiss her this minute! Go!"

He physically herds her to the door, at which point she finally notices Eddie, who has been standing in the corner where Steve shoved him behind him when the door crashed open, watching them like he's wishing he had popcorn.

Fuck. Steve was so excited for Robbie he totally forgot he was here.

Robin's body goes rigid and all the color drains out of her face all at once.

Steve grabs her by the shoulders. "Hey, Bobbin, eyes on me, ok? Eyes on me." She finally drags her eyes away from where she's been staring at Eddie in horror, and Steve's heart breaks at the fear on her face. "It's ok, Bobbie, I swear to god it's ok. I was right, alright? I was right about him, we were talking before you came in. He's safe, I swear. We're safe, Bobbie, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"I promise I won't say a word, Birdie. Friends of Dorothy gotta stick together, right?" Eddie pipes up from the corner, stepping forward slowly and carefully, hands out front like he's approaching a skittish animal.

"You're- you're like u- me?" Oh, he loves her so much. Still protecting him, just in case.

"It's ok Bobs, I told him about me. I was about to get a kiss of my own before you came in, I think, actually."

Eddie jumps on the opportunity to cut the tension, ever the showman. Steve likes him so goddamn much. He grins impishly at Steve, that wide pretty mouth stretching out until those dimples Steve can't wait to kiss appear on his cheeks.

"Oh, you were, were you? Pretty presumptuous, Stevie-boy. Who says I kiss on the first date? Maybe I'm not that kind of boy."

"Oh, wow, ok, this is gonna be a lot to deal with, huh? Alright, I'm glad I'm not getting hate-crimed, and I'm glad you're finally doing something about your big gay crush, Dingus, but if you'll excuse me, I have a girl to kiss, and also I want to be far away from," she waves a hand between them, "whatever this is. Good luck boys, don't kiss in unlocked rooms! Vickie says she can give me a ride home, so I'll call you in the morning, bubba. Love you bye!"

She's out of the room like a shot, hopefully back up to Vickie, who he hopes is prepared to get used to this kind of thing. There are so many things to love about Robin Buckley, and honestly, this is one of them, but he can see why she might be an acquired taste. He thinks anyone who doesn't acquire that taste is a moron and not worth knowing, but he can see how those people might exist.

"Love you too, Robs!" he calls down the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. It's not a lock, but as long as he doesn't move, it'll do. And given that Eddie appears to have found his confidence and is leaning over him, bracing his arms on either side of Steve's head, he doesn't think he'll have to move any time soon.

Unless someone needs the kitchen, but they've been doing just fine so far, so they can burn that bridge when they come to it, or whatever people say.

He reaches down to toy with Eddie's belt loops, tugging him close and grinning up at him through his eyelashes, privately thrilled at the novelty of being shorter than his partner for once. Granted, he's slumped down the door a little, but still. It's nice. He can see why girls like it.

Eddie comes closer easily, resting their foreheads together. He reaches down to fiddle with a lock of Steve's hair and Steve feels like leaning into it like a cat getting its ears rubbed.

Lot of cat feelings tonight. He's not sure what to do with that.

"So.”

“So.”

“Steven Elizabeth, huh?"

Steve can't help but laugh, the tension broken once more. "Yeah, Rob's idea. We switched. Steven Elizabeth and Robin James. So we always have a piece of each other."

"Jesus H Christ, you guys are fucking adorable. This shit is why everyone thinks you're dating, though, you know that, right?"

"Ugh, yeah, I know. I don't actually mind, I mean, I should be so lucky, you know? And she's like. My person. My most important person. And we're probably gonna get married someday just so we can be each other's next of kin, and because it's not like she could marry whoever she ends up with anyway, or me if I end up with a guy, so it's like, why not, you know? I'd be building my life around her anyway, might as well make it legal.

"It's mostly just annoying when our friends don't believe us, because like, we're honest with you guys. Maybe not all of it, like Robbie isn't ready to be out and that's fine and she shouldn't have to be, but it kinda sucks that, like, Dustin thinks I would lie to him, you know? Because I wouldn't. Not about something real. Not when it matters. But he doesn't believe me, and that just. I dunno, man."

"It hurts."

"Yeah."

"I get that. You've been through a lot for these kids, you've put yourself on the line for them, you've given up a lot for them, and when they don't believe you about something like this, it feels like they're saying they don't trust you. Of course that hurts."

Steve swallows down the tears that want to fall. Now isn't the time for vulnerability like that, not in a stranger's crowded house. Still.

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?" Oh, sweetheart does something to him. If this is how Eddie felt when he called him baby earlier, the blush makes more sense.

"Figure out exactly what I'm trying to say, and make it make sense. Usually only Robbie can do that."

"I dunno, maybe Birdie and me share a brain. Or maybe you and I just make sense to each other."

Steve flattens a palm against Eddie's chest, feeling the soothing thump beneath his hand. He did that. He put his hands on Eddie's chest and his mouth on Eddie's mouth and broke Eddie's ribs and didn't stop until that rhythm started up again. And now Eddie's here, and Eddie's heart is still beating, and Eddie hears him when he talks, and Eddie is looking at his lips again, and Steve suddenly can't go another second without kissing him.

He trails his hand up Eddie's chest, over his neck, savoring the way his breath hitches and the pulse under his palm speeds up. He keeps going, pushing his fingers into that thick riot of curls, already making mental notes of the products he's going to buy for Eddie because Jesus Christ, they're dry.

He tugs, and again, Eddie comes easy. It's not an earth-shattering kiss. There's no tongue, and their noses are a little smushed, and the angle is a little off, and he's kissed enough people that he can tell Eddie probably hasn't, but none of that matters.

He told Robin, back in that field, that he was holding off feelings he knew he would have for Eddie when all was said and done. He knows now he was right, and he's done holding them off. Has been done for a while, maybe.

He doesn't know where this is going, or what Eddie wants, or how they'll manage being two guys in a town like Hawkins, or what their friends will think. If they'll even tell their friends. What he does know is that he wants to find out the answers to all of those, and he wants to find them out with Eddie, and he wants to keep kissing Eddie, and also that he can't keep kissing Eddie here.

He pulls back, pecking that dimple finally, partly to reassure Eddie that he isn't running away and partly because he's wanted to for weeks, and pulls the kitchen door open, checking that the coast is clear before grabbing Eddie's hand and dragging him towards the front door.

"Where we going, Stevie?"

"You drove here, right?"

"Sure did. You want a ride somewhere? I thought you drove Birdie."

"I did, but you've got your van, don't you? Your van with doors that lock and a big open back seat?"

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he flails a little, just like Robin. It makes Steve smile.

"Yep! Yes, yeah, hell yeah, I do have my van, my van with those things, let's go! Chop chop, time's a-wasting! Your chariot awaits!" And he's off, doing that dorky little run for the driveway.

Steve grins, and puts his hands in his pockets, and follows his boy out into the night.

[islandoforder]

Hi just properly scrolled through your blog for the first time and wanted to ask a question:

Re: Riz should be class president post from over a week ago - why should it be Riz over Kristen now that the class president position has stakes? Is it because of Kristen’s inconsistent access to her spells in case she needed to defend herself? I’d love to hear more about your thought process regarding this - assuming your opinion hasn’t changed since making that post.

My thoughts personally are that character-wise, it makes more sense to me for Riz to be the one strategizing as the campaign manager, because he’s the one actually finding a lot of the traps the Rat Grinders have put out for them.

Whereas Kristen makes more sense to me as a candidate purely because of her charisma and good radar for social bs - her weakness, of course, being that she’s a bit of a wild card in her choices regarding the campaign. But at the same time, she’s been able to get away with wearing a soggy salsa hat in front of the entire student body and still maintain some chance for the candidacy.

Obviously, I’m ignoring the more mechanical aspects of this comparison. If that’s what you were referring to in your original post idk then. I’m still wrapping my head around how Riz rolls so well now, level 10 dnd shit is way over my head.

Sorry if this was long, I just wanted to express my thoughts as well as hear yours! Idk how far away we are from getting back to the campaign to class president, who knows what happens after they get back from fallinel!

hi! sorry this is such a late reply, i've been away and i wanted to watch the new ep before i started posting about anything d20 in case of unintentional spoilers haha

so i think part of it is that, imho, brennan intended the class president arc to be riz's:

kipperlily is a rogue, v type a, and a narrative foil to riz, and this would have directly pitted them against one another

riz needed extra credit things for his college app, like being involved in student govt/being student president

there's also something about kipperlily being fundamentally riz but richer

kristen's arc was clearly always going to be about cassandra, trying to regain her favour, or increase her popularity, or resurrect her

nara is the kristen foil this season (once again, kristen but richer)

everyone has like an individual arc this season except for riz, bc his was supposed to be student president

beyond all of this, i don't actually think kristen is able to take the student president stuff too seriously - every time she tries, she ends up doing a bit instead, at the steel workers union, at the middle school, even at the party. i actually think if riz was the candidate, he would manage himself, in the same way that fabian wanted to be the party house and arranges that himself, and adaine needed a job and worked on and got that herself. so like i agree that he's the best campaign manager, but that doesn't preclude him from being the best candidate as well??

also, frankly, a lot of the good social graces kristen has had this year are from riz putting in the hard work - him joining all the clubs and making those connections, him taking stress to give her more popularity, his own popularity, etc.

like i'm enjoying the silliness of kristen's campaign, but i'm kind of with sklonda on this - riz would be a better candidate, and it is to some degree a shame that he's putting this much effort into running a campaign for someone else. if they legit need the student body president bc they'll become proxy headmaster, then i think a more serious campaign with riz at the helm and finally having his time in the spotlight is not a bad idea!!