#local fish boi speaks

[flamingpudding]

Jail Buddies

Once a month, Jason makes an effort to meet Dick on purpose. Sometimes even more. After all, he was a good little brother checking in with his brother. Though he had a rather uncontroversial way of doing so. One that involved getting led into a jail cell of your local police department and loudly demanding to speak to Officer Grayson.

Okay, maybe it wasn't like that it was an effort to check on his brother and just one of his many listed dumb moments of recklessness he got caught for. And he was maybe using his brother to get out without having to call Cass, Steph, Duke, Tim, Damian, Alfred or Bruce, in that order depending who was willing to bail him out every time Dick had his 'Little Wing you won't learn if I keep bailing you out.'-Phases again. Or if Dick was being petty because of a recent prank war.

Either way, while Jason was waiting for Dick to make his entrance in his cell he noticed the teen boy sharing the cell with him staring at him wide eyed. He arched an eyebrow, and decided on a whim to make friendly conversation.

"So what got you here kid?"

The teen blinked as if just realizing Jason had addressed him before grinning a bit feral, his blue eyes having an unnatural glow. "Vandalism."

Jason's eyebrow rose again, but the teen continued.

"Trashed mu place and gave my guardian's car a pretty paint job and some other stuff."

"You vandalized your own place? And got arrested."

"Fruitloop decided an overnight stay was a better punishment then leaving me unattended."

The teen shrugged and Jason couldn't help but feel like he just had heard a red flag. He opened his mouth to question the kid more but than his brother finally made his entrance.

"Little Wing! What did you do this time!?" Jason could see that Dick was out to start a rant but changed tunes when he noticed the teen.

"Danny or Dan? You are here again? When did they bring you in? Trouble at home?" Dick asked, and Jason clearly saw the telltale signs of information fishing bat style.

"Danny and the usual." Danny, as Jason now learned the kid's name was, shrugged nonchalantly like this wasn't the first time he and Dick had had that exchange.

"Seriously buddy? I had a rebellious phase as teen too but to regularly trash your home to the point that someone calls the police or vandalize your guardian's cars, buildings, advertisements or anything that has to do with him is not a solution kid." Jason arched an eyebrow at Dicks tone, feeling slightly reminded of whenever Dick lectured one of them.

"Oh I know. But it's a nice stress reliever, plus you guys are nice here. I get pizza as dinner whenever I stay the night." The kid grinned and Jason couldn't help the snort that earned him a little glare from Dick.

Instead of arguing further his brother let out a suffering sigh and let Jason out of the cell, waving him towards the exit and following him shortly after giving the kid one more look that looked like a mix between stern and pleading to stop being a rebellious teen.

Once out of earshot, Jason then chose to ask. "So what's the kid's deal?"

"Nothing, just a rebellious teen reminds me of Damian when he first appeared. He has a twin and a little sister as far as I know, both of them also known here. Their guardian is an upstanding man, though." Jason heard the hidden but.

"Did someone look into it?" He hummed more as a cover.

"Higher ups don't know, but i am running an investigation." Translation Bruce is unaware, but Dick was using Bat resources for looking into the kid's residence.

"Nice kid, didn't think he was a regular." He only commented.

"Nice and polite, you wouldn't think he did some of the things he was brought in for. Distrustful though, despite his friendly nature."

Jason nodded as Dick went through the papers to bail him out, a thought popping up in his head. Clearly, something was up with the kid that had his brother worried, and it looked like he was stuck on just doing his investigation. So, being the thoughtful little brother he was, Jason decided to help his brother.

In his uncontroversial ways, of course.

"Yo Danny, also here?" Jason grinned as he was led into the same cell the teen was in a week later.

[forsworned]

I just got a great idea. Imagine the teenage dirt bag trend with 141, where reader is chill and laid back, and as 141 and reader are in the break room, gaz or soap ask reader about her life before the military and she just goes to her office to get some photos of her and her friends in their teens, smoking weed and in some she has some sick piercings and a skater, or maybe even a motorcycle. I don't even know. I'm just rambling. You can write it if you want but if you don't want to then feel free to ignore me 🫶🏼🙆🏻‍♀️

author's note: and a great idea you have indeed :) i gotchuuu and im so sorry this took me forever to get to

tags: poly 141 antics, cheeky banter, and a lil flirting with the boys ;)

Breakfast is a fan favorite amongst the 141, especially when it involves the sweet and savory aroma of coffee, pancakes, eggs, and your famous potato hash—a dish that's practically a cult fave within the team. As you settle in your seat between Johnny and Kyle with your coffee mug in your hand, the group is chatting about their former glory days before they joined the military.

Johnny nudges you with a playful smirk, still noshing on a piece of toast. "So, hen, ye look like ye had a bit of a wild streak back in the day, aye? Bet ye were a right wee devil." His tone is teasing, laced with curiosity as his cerulean gaze lingers on you.

You roll your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Kyle chimes in, his tone equally teasing, "Yeah, you look like the type who got up to all sorts of dodgy stuff. Proper troublemaker, I reckon. C'mon love, spill the beans." He nudges with a grin.

Price looks over his newspaper at double trouble across the table, before turning the page, causing you to chuckle. "Well," you fish out your phone from your pocket and everyone leans forward in their seats as you scroll through your camera roll. You stop at an album and tap on it before rotating the screen to face them and they can't help the excited noises that leave their mouths.

"No way!" Johnny exclaims, his grin widens as he spots a photo of you leaning against a cherry red muscle car. "Is that a 1967 Chevrolet Camaro!?" Kyle chirps, taking your phone from you and you laugh at their reactions. That gets Price's attention and he leans over to get a gander of the rebellious glint in your eye and the streaks of red fashioned into your hair.

"Christ," He beams down at the photo and then up at you. "looks like you were quite the rebel, eh? No wonder these two pillocks won't stop botherin' ya."

Kyle lets out a whistle as he swipes to the next photo, showcasing you with a cigarette hanging between your lips, clad in a skimpy bikini, leaning against your palms on a beach on a sunlit beach with the sunset casting a tangerine glow. "Cheeky."

Johnny's eyes ream at the photo, taking you in your exposed form. "Aye, look at ye!" His cheeks flush as he tilts his head, peeking up at you. "I gotta give it ya, lassie, yer quite the stunner."

"And still are." Price adds, raising his eyebrows at you. You fluster at his kind words, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you,"

"Oi! Look at this one!" Johnny points to the screen again, having a good laugh. You lean into Kyle and giggle at the photo. Grin as wide as your face with an alligator's jaw clamped shut between your hands. "That cannot be real!"

"It's really not as wild as it looks. I was on vacation in Florida, and a local wildlife park had this little show where they let you hold and pose with a baby alligator. They made sure everything was safe and supervised. Super fun."

Price cocks an amused brow at you, sipping his coffee. "Baby alligator, eh? You're quite the thrill seeker."

"Yeahhh, not much has changed." Kyle ribs and the others laugh. It's true though. You were actively pursuing that adrenaline rush, so it didn't come as much of a surprise to them, especially not Simon.

As the laughter dies down, Simon, who was quietly enjoying his tea and observing the situation unfold finally speaks up, "You lot are gettin' too chuffed over this, but I gotta admit..." He leans back, his dark eyes fixate on you and you can't help but take notice of how his mask is scrunched up under his nose, revealing the pale pink of his lips. "Never quite pegged you for a lil rascal. Bet you gave your folks a right headache."

He prods the phone out of Johnny's hand and takes a look at the other photos they were scrolling through and softly snorting at what looks like an image of you on stage, strumming at a guitar and singing your heart out. "But I reckon that's what makes you fit in so will with these bunch of nutters." His lips quirk into a faint smile as he hands you back your phone and goes back to munching on his eggs. "Ain't it always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for?"

Your cheeks blossom with warmth at his comment and the cute little smile that adorns his handsome face. "Well, I didn't think I was all that quiet." You poke your tongue in your cheek, gently prying the phone out of his hands.

His finger seems to biff at your screen as it clatters out of your grasp because his onyx eyes widen at the photo. Skin exposed, revealing the ink that embellishes your lower left hip in delicate, intricate patterns as you're posing sexy for the camera. Your heart plunges to your ass at the realization of it not being in your hidden album.

"Oh—that's, uhhh" You stammer swiftly, locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. Your tongue swipes at your lips as you avert your gaze, but Simon takes note of how you nervously twiddle with the spoon as it clatters against the walls of your mug.

Simon's eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he returns to his tea, "well, well, well..."

The rest of the team is still buzzing with the excitement of your heydays as they detect the slight change in atmosphere.

"Oi, what's all of this about, then?" Johnny asks with a mouth full of food. "Give us the scoop!"

But the Scotsman is getting scolded by Price and Kyle for not keeping his mouth shut while he eats. A sheepish smile adorns his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he apologizes. Simon chuckles, and shakes his head, "Nothin' worth spillin', Johnny. Just a bit of a laugh."

Of course that earns some groans from them, but you can't help but bite your bottom lip and grin when Simon gives you a knowing look. Some secrets are best kept between friends.

masterlist

[beiasluv]

grid of in-laws | o. piastri (81)

a/n: im thai, so definitely not self-inserting here 🤭

yn_albon

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 86,107 others

yn_albon mum and dad 🤷‍♀️

view all 14,186 comments

lilymhe my baby 😘

yn_albon 🫶🫶

alex_albon remember I always have the pictures

yn_albon 😔 I’m sorry my dearest brother

username hello?? What pictures??

username don’t be shy, tell usss

username Oscar, what are you doing here??

username he’s trying to rizz her up or what?

username im praying that they are dating

username BROTHER what are you high on?

username TELL ME YOU DONT HAVE TWITTER

username yall think that if they’re not dating, oscar’s gonna be a creep and like all of her pics for nothing?

username MOST men do that. Oscar’s my pookie tho

username yeah, exactly. dating.

yn_albon’s private story

reply

alex_albon: don’t you think it’s time for a public story? 🙄

: im going to combust from embarrassment

alex_albon: please, when lily posted me-

: you jumped around the room and kicked your legs. I know 😔

alex_albon: yeah, time to think about it. also, call mum tonight

: mkayy

lilymhe

tokyo, japan

liked by yn_albon, alex_albon and 127,041 others

lilymhe the albons’ lost in tokyo!!

view 34,617 comments

yn_albon we’re all lost 😔

alex_albon says the one with your own japanses translator

yn_albon yeah, can’t hear you

username EXCUSE ME??

username OSCAR???

yn_albon 🫶🫶

alex_albon back off🤺🤺

lilymhe she’s just my baby 😔

username EXCUSE ME? Who can speak japanse in the gird? Oscar mf piastri

username exactly what I was thinking!!

username yuki rn 🧍‍♂️

username didn’t oscar and lando went out in tokyo today as well???

username FUCKING HELL YES HELLO? I’M HAVING AN ASTHMA ATTACK

landonorris

tokyo, japan

liked by mclaren, yn_albon and 782,106 others

landonorris lost in japan 👊

view all 185,106 comments

alex_albon copying each other’s pose kings

liked by yn_albon

landonorris tbf, it wasn’t taken by the same person 🤷‍♂️

oscarpiastri i called that pose first

georgerussell63 nice food mate 👊

landonorris nah, they didn’t get me

username THEY WHO? Oscar and who??

username tell me SOMETHING i DONT know

username so we’re all here from lily’s post huh 😭

username yn liked the post 🤷‍♀️

username wait, YN AND LANDO FOLLOW EACH OTHER??

username she’s pretty close with the 2019 rookies ig

yn_albon

chinatown, bangkok

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 76,127 others

yn_albon we ate ✌️💅

view all 21,701 comments

alex_albon thanks for copying my pose, be original 👊

yn_albon lily come get yo man please

lilymhe right away 🫡

landonorris good food 🙌

yn_albon still can’t make you try fish 😔

landonorris sorry, it’s never happening 🤷‍♂️

username please tell me yn brought oscar with her 😭

username white boy getting dragged to asian street food by his gf, my favorite trope

username *and traumatizing him

yn_albon I swear I fed him the right food 😔😭

username SHUT UP GUYES ITS CONFIRMED

username yn feed my boy pad thai

username naur that’s basic asf 😭

alex_albon

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 510,418 others

alex_albon back home with my favourite person and some thai local i guess 🤷‍♂️ (jk, love you both)

view all 218,177 comments

yn_albon yeah, love you too 🤺

lilymhe you don’t play mermaids with us 👎

yn_albon right??? I’m sorry for not training him harder 😔✊

alex_albon i apologise 😭

username boooo, alexxxx

username oscar has been real quiet since the bangkok post??

username SO lando went with them which only makes sense if oscar ALSO went with them yk??

username I KNOW what y’all are thinking

oscarpiastri

phuket, thailand

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 751,168 others

oscarpiastri thanks to a local guide 🇹🇭

view all 386,109 comments

username ITS FUCKING OFFICIAL OSCAR POSTING

username sad day to be an oscar fan 😔

username GOOD DAY to be an oscaryn shipper

username shut UP is that yn??

username YES‼️ where have you been???

username alex just posted them going to phuket, so 2+2 🤷‍♀️

username i mean he already went out to tokyo with the albons, so what’s the chance

yn_albon

liked by alex_albon, lilymhe and 282,156 others

yn_albon golfing or we balling‼️

view all 98,716 comments

landonorris Oscar is literally 🧍‍♂️

yn_albon exactly

oscarpiastri I am not a professional golfer 🤷‍♂️

alex_albon who won??

yn_albon you😔

yn_albon only because lily is not playing 🤷‍♀️

username PUT HIM BACK SIS!!

lilymhe

liked by yn_albon, alex_albon and 96,267 others

lilymhe serious dinner…

view all 17,817 comments

alex_albon very serious indeed…

yn_albon what are y’all on about? 😭

username PLEASE IS THIS THE IN-LAWS DINNER WE WERE BEGGING FOR

username ‘serious dinner’ my ASS 😭

yn_albon

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 396,691 others

yn_albon race week dump ig 😦

view all 91,178 comments

alex_albon ITS HAPPENING

landonorris WHAT IS HAPPENIF

landonorris WHY IS OSCAR JUMPIN

landonorris OH.

username george, blink if you’re the third wheel

username NAH LOGAN AS WELL 😭

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 627,182 others

oscarpiastri guess we did have a dinner..

comments on this post have been limited

yn_albon’s story | oscarpiastri’s story

reply

alex_albon: THANK GOD

the longest one yet. it took me so long because I keep undoing and editing (perfectionist af)

request is open-ish because I’m done with exams!! jenson dilf incoming?? 😬

anyways, hope y’all enjoyed it. like, reblog, COMMENT, or anything if you liked it. If not, y’all better lock yo door.

today’s a good day to take care of yourself!!

[veritas-scribblings]

stay - @jegulus-microfic - words: 658

The black cat shows up on James’s doorstep one winter’s night. It’s snowing that night. There’s tiny little paw prints interspersed with droplets of blood dotted across James’s lawn, and the black cat is laying in the corner of the veranda shivering, twitching, grey eyes blinking suspiciously at James. It’s a small thing, delicate and lithe in the way that most cats are. No collar to speak of, but too well-kept to be a stray.

So, James supposes, a neglectful owner, perhaps?

James tugs his robe tighter around him and kneels down, and creeps over. The cat’s fur—long and black and silky—is matted with blood, long gashes like claw marks across its body. It’s managed to get itself into a fight, James reckons, with someone bigger and tougher and nastier than itself. The cat (a boy, James notes) meows and swipes at James, disgruntled at being manhandled against his will.

‘Come on,’ James says gently. ‘You’ll catch your death out here. It’s warm inside, I have a fire going.’ 

James calls the cat Dew Claw for his tendency to swipe angrily at James as he walks past. He learns quickly that Dew Claw is a spicy little creature with a nasty attitude and a proclivity for sitting on his makeshift bed, judging James with an intensity that’s almost human. It’s the way he watches James, tracking James’s movements across the room, meowing disparagingly every time James does so much as anything.

Almost two days pass before the Dew Claw is up and about, awkwardly so with healing wounds, and this is where the real problems begin. With the freedom to move comes free-reign of the house, and with free-reign of the house comes a tiny little invader getting into every room, nook and cranny. James starts to find black hair on all of his clothes, t-shirts with holes chewed into them, little glass ornaments and photo frames and figurines shoved off shelves. 

By the second week of Dew Claw’s residence in James Potter’s home, Dew Claw’s wounds have mostly healed. And James finds himself with a nightly companion. True to his nature, Dew Claw sleeps directly in the centre of his bed, forcing James to try and position himself so as to not crush the cat. On the first night, James sleeps so awkwardly he tumbles out of bed (an event Dew Claw peacefully sleeps through). By the second night, James figures out his sleeping position (curved into almost a U-shape), but he wakes up with a sore neck and a sore back that doesn’t go away for days.

They fall into a lovely little rhythm, James and Dew Claw. Though Dew Claw remains a spicy little creature, he seems to come to trust James more. James learns that Dew Claw loves to be stroked, but must instigate it for the contact to be acceptable (he gained many scratches learning this lesson). He learns that Dew Claw loves bread (many loaves were sacrificed to this lesson) but hates jam with a passion. He learns that Dew Claw seems to have this bizarre ability to read. This learning, James cannot seem to explain or reason away. Even for a magical cat.

They have a comfortable little life together. James buys fish from the local market and fries it up, because Dew Claw is suspicious of anything raw. They read together; sometimes novels, sometimes poetry, often the Daily Prophet, particularly the quidditch section. Dew Claw sleeps on his pillow now, by James head, sometimes tucked under the covers by James’s stomach and James fears rolling over and accidentally crushing his little body.

‘You live with me now,’ James whispers to the cat one night while he’s curled up by the fireplace, Dew Claw sleeping on his lap, kneading his thigh and purring almost aggressively.

When James wakes up on the third morning of the fourth week, he wakes up next to one Regulus Black, and suddenly, everything changes.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 001

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [9.6k] based on 1x01.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of drowning, mentions of death

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

‘THAT’S ABOUT A THREE-STORY FALL TO THE DECK? I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival.” Pope theoreticized from below. John B was balancing himself on the roof, beer in hand and not a care in the world. 

Licking his finger and holding it up in the air, he spoke. “Should I do it?”

“Yeah, you should jump! I’ll shoot you on the way down.” Pope joked, electric drill gun pointed up in the brunette’s direction. 

“You’re gonna shoot me?” JB mocked the boy below him with fingers guns as Kiara emerged from inside the unfinished home, interrupting their shenanigans.

“They’re gonna have Japanese toilets with towel warmers.” She said, mildly disgusted.

“Of course they are,” JJ chimed in. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“This used to be a turtle habitat,” she continued on, looking the house up and down. “But who cares about the turtles, I guess…”

“Can’t have cold towels…” 

“Do you even use towels, JJ?” You chimed in as you rounded the corner, earbud in one ear and even from the roof, the four of your friends could hear your music blasting faintly. “I thought you shook yourself off like a dog when you got wet.”

“Ha ha.” He fake laughed before he chucked an empty beer can in your direction. You dodged it with an annoyed sneer before picking it up and chucking it back ten times harder, hitting the side of the blonde’s head.

“Ah- ouch!”

“Could you please, not kill yourself?” Kiara stared up at John B with concern in her eyes.

“And don’t spill that beer! I’m not giving you another one…” JJ warned his best friend. His words almost like a trigger, JB dropping the beer right after, hearing the metal clank against the deck as the remaining liquid splattered on the wood.

“And of course he spills the beer.” You couldn’t help but speak as you slid down one of the wooden fixtures to sit against it.

“Hey!” A new voice bellowed. That’s when your eyes found Pope leaned over one of the banisters. 

“Security’s here. Let’s wrap it up.” He said, voice wavering slightly as he pat the deck and turned around.

John B got down from the roof, following behind JJ as you all picked up the pace. You all made your way into the house, quick in your steps to avoid the officers.

Rushing down the stairs, JJ was in the front. “Right turn, J!” You shouted. But of course, he still made a left turn, coming face to face and just narrowly missing one of the officers as you all went right. “I said right turn, dumbass!” You yelled over your shoulder.

“They’re going out front!”

You, Kiara, and John B had already managed to jump into the van, watching as JJ and Pope hopped the gate and landed flat on their stomachs. John B honked the horn to urge them on. “Bus is leaving!”

With the last two of the group in the vehicle, John B practically stomped on the pedal, sending the vehicle forward.

He drove the van as fast it could go, which wasn’t all that fast for the record. The side door was still open as you, along with JJ and Pope, mocked the officer who was chasing after the busted van. 

“Check out Gary, gunnin’ for a raise.” Pope mocked, eliciting a chorus of giggles inside the van. 

“You little pricks!”

JJ waved a beer can out the door, shaking it in the mans face. “You’re so close, you can do it! There you go.” He said as he tossed the can in the running officer’s direction. “They don’t pay you enough bro!”

The officer fell behind just as the van hit the bridge, passing the welcome sign to The Outer Banks. ‘Paradise on Earth.’ The natural habitat of you and your friends.

The Pogues. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish.

There’s JJ, one of your best friends out of them all. He’s about as local as they come. He does the dumb, risky things none of the rest of you will and you actually find him quite funny, not that you’d ever let him know that. He's tries to act all wreckless and tough-guy but you all know that he's just a loyal friend who tries to do the right thing in the wrong way.

Then there’s Kiara, or Kie as she would prefer to be called. She’s been your closest and dearest friend since forever. Your fathers were as thick as thieves and you and Kie seemed to follow in their steps being best friends since pre-school, even though you lived on two differen't sides of the island up until recently. Her family owns The Wreck, this Outer Banks institution and her parents love you. The others? Not so much… 

And you can’t forget Pope, the brains of the operation. Finalist for the Luther T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And the smartest person you know. Little bit of a weirdo but who isn’t. His father’s sort of.. strict, but he gives you free seafood. He says you're the 'least negative influence' his son keeps around.

Then, of course, There’s John B — legally, John Booker Routledge. You all have a myriad of nicknames for him though — John, JB, Bree, Jombee. You all typically hang at his place, The Chateau as his dad used to call it. Speaking of his dad, he disappeared at sea nine months ago, looking for a shipwreck and his mom split when he was three. You’ve all been doing your best to look out for him but it was an extremely difficult situation…

Last is you, the Pogues resident Pogue Princess. Well, former Pogue Princess. You moved to Figure Eight about eight months ago, after your dad died and your mom’s lawyer career skyrocketed seemingly out of the blue. But you hate it there, you spent her whole life on The Cut. Plus, your dad’s death caused a bit of a strain on your relationship with your mother. Things just haven't been the same.

WAKING UP TO HARSH POST-HURRICANE WINDS IS NEVER PLEASANT. Especially not for someone who isn’t much of a morning person. You’d barely had time to rub the sleep out of your eyes when your mom came into your room, in a rush as she was running late to meet with a client, reminding you to turn on the backup generator and ordering you to help out Kiara and her father at The Wreck.

“Is that all of it?” You asked, mouth half-full of french fries that were hot and salted to literal perfection. Kie stood in front of you, apron covered in food scraps and hair in a messy bun. 

“As much as we’re gonna be able to get today.” She sighed, eyes scanning over the crates and boxes littered amongst the floor. “Here,” She started, walking towards a couple of coolers stacked in the corner. “We’ll take these coolers out on the dock. The guys should be here soon.”

“M’kay.” You hummed, jumping out of the chair you were sitting backwards in and clapping your hands together to dust them off. She grabbed the cooler off the top and you grabbed the one underneath, following her out to the dock. 

It had gotten hotter in the short time you both had spent cleaning The Wreck, sun hitting you directly in the face as you walked out onto the damp deck, eyes squinting from the harsh beam of sunlight. Your hair was thrown up and out of your face into a high ponytail. You had discarded your flannel, tying it around your waist in front of your shorts, leaving your top half in only a bikini.

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya.” JJ greeted. 

“Good morning.” Kie replied, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Whatcha got? Some juice boxes?”

You lifted the lid and peeked inside as you and Kiara continued walking towards the boat. “Looks like, carrots? And… yogurt?” You looked to Kie for some assurance. She smirked.

“I have his kind of juice boxes in this one.” She assured, wiggling her cooler in the air. 

The boat stopped at the end of the dock, the guys helping you both inside. Once you and her were all arms and legs inside, John B sped off. Kie opened up her cooler handing everyone a beer who accepted, which was all except for John B, who was steering, and Pope who opted for baby carrots.

“Salud!” You all cheered as the three of you clanked bottles.

“HEY POPE, CAN YOU GO A LITTLE FASTER?” JJ asked, now standing at the forefront of the boat, beer in hand. Pope had taken over as driver when John B joined in drinking with the rest of the group.

“Dude, nooo, not this again. It fails every time.” You tried to stop the blonde from trying this borderline ritualistic party trick that never worked. 

“Have some faith, will you?” He shot back sarcastically. “It’s gonna work!” He spoke over the rev of the engine as Pope idiotically listened to him and sped up the boat. JJ tilted the beer bottle back enough to splatter beer into his mouth, and in Kie’s hair, and on John B’s cheek, and on your lips. 

“Alright, alright!” Pope tried. “Alright, stop!” 

It happened out of nowhere, the boat coming to an aggressive and abrupt stop. The last thing you saw was JJ flipping forward into the water, JB and Kie falling off their seats, and Pope tumbling back before you were submerged within an endlessness of dark blue, a harsh stinging-sensation blooming on your back and thighs. You couldn’t tell what was up and what was down. Too disoriented from the fall, your brain didn’t catch up with your body, attempting to inhale in your panic before getting a mouth full of water. Then, within seconds, you felt a hand on your back, seemingly feeling around to make sure you were what they were looking for before two hands were under your arms and pulling you up.

You coughed as your eyes were met with the harsh light of the sun, but you were grateful for it. You could hear JJ’s voice behind your ear as you coughed up water. “I got her! She’s fine!”

He swam in front of you, his hand rubbing and patting your back as your coughing fit slowly became less intense. “You alright? You took a nasty fall.” You managed to strain out a hoarse laugh. 

“You guys okay?” Pope shouted over the edge of the boat. 

“Almost drowned but yeah, we’re just fine.” You and JJ joked back, swimming back to the boat.

“Pope, man, what happened?” JJ inquired, treading water next to you. 

“Sandbar. The channel changed...” 

“No kidding.” You said, voice still scratchy from the Marsh water. 

“Guys…” Pope started, staring in confusion over the edge of the small boat. “I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Yeah, okay...”

“No, I’m serious. There’s a boat down there. For real.” You and JJ gave each other a glance, still treading in the water as you watched the remaining three peer over where Pope was staring. “There’s a boat!”

Kie quickly turned around. “Holy shit, he’s right.” You and JJ began paddling towards where your friends eyes were glued before as they shed their clothes and jumped in with the two of you. You all took one last glance at each other before dunking your heads below the surface and diving to the pristine, white boat that stood stuck in the middle of The Marsh.

When the tips of your fingers touched the surface of the boat, you swam around it, examining the structure. This wasn’t an old shipwreck, it was too clean. This had to have happened during the hurricane. As you kept swimming, you recognized the layout, the structure, the fixtures. There was no way this was what you thought it was…

Coming back up to the surface, JJ’s voice was the first one heard. “You guys saw that, right?” He asked breathlessly, a smile on his face as he shook his wet hair from in front of his face.

“That’s a Grady-White.” You added, still catching your breath. “That’s like a half a million dollar boat, just sitting there.” You all swam back to where the HMS Pogue swayed, climbing back on all at once. 

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something.” John B spoke. Both you and Kiara turned to him, your faces falling from excitement to dismay.

Kie was the first to speak, a quiet question. “You surfed the surge?...”

“Yeah.” JB spoke carelessly, barely paying any attention before answering.

“That’s my boy. Pogue style.” JJ encouraged him, slapping a hand against his shoulder.

“Well that was dumb.” You immediately protested, siding with Kie. “You could’ve gotten killed.” You added seriously. What the hell was he thinking? Surfing a surge isn’t uncommon in the Outer Banks, but waves like that? That’s a death wish, for sure.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

There was brief, tense eye contact between the both of you before you scoffed and turned around, walking off.

“Wait. Do we know whose boat that is?” Pope asked. 

“No, but we’re about to find out.” John B spoke up. 

“Dude, it’s way too deep.” JJ pointed out. He was right. It was too deep, especially for someone with no diving experience. Diving experience that you happened to have. No matter how pissed you were at him for surfing the surge, letting John B make another dumb mistake was just as bad. Also, mildly hypocritical.

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.”

“I’m not resuscitating you.” JJ reminded. “I’m just...making that clear up front.” He told him, scrunching his nose and shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s fine.” John was now standing on the edge of the boat, anchor in hand with a smile that was much to happy for someone doing something so dangerous.

“Diver down.” Pope saluted.

You turned around, about to offer to go down yourself. That was, until JJ pushed John B off the edge of the boat himself.

“JJ!” You shouted, hands out. He turned to you, blue eyes wide and wandering. 

“What?” You just shook your head and groaned.

You just opted to stand on the other side of Kie, watching and waiting for John B to emerge again. 

Seconds passed, seconds that felt like minutes. “He’s been down there too long.” You eventually vocalized, breaking through the tense silence. 

“Should we go get him?” Pope suggested. Just then, the brown haired boy sprung up out the water, shaking his head side to side flinging water on the four of you. You all shielded your faces, mutual groans leaving the four of you on the boat.

“Dude! C’mon…” Pope complained, wiping droplets of water from his forehead and peering over the edge of the boat. “Any dead bodies?”

“No.” John B answered. “I found this motel key.” He continued, holding up a small, silver key with a yellow tag attached. 

“A key...” Pope said unimpressed. 

“Great! We… salvaged a motel key.” JJ continued mocking as they helped John B back onto the boat. Pope resumed his position behind the wheel as John B examined the key, you sat back with your earbud in one ear, still able to listen and chime in on the conversation. 

“Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard. Maybe we’ll get a finder’s fee.” 

POPE DOCKED AT THE COAST GUARD, THE PLACE BOMBARDED WITH ISLANDERS. Some searching for their spouses, pets, and family members. JJ and John B walked inside to find someone while Pope, Kie and yourself waited outside the maze of tents.

“It’s the day after a hurricane. They’re looking for old people and children, not boats. Besides, would it really be that bad if we just, didn’t report it?” You voiced.

“I don’t know,” Pope expressed, hand on the back of his neck. “What if there’s a body down there and we just, I don’t know, missed it.”

“And,” Kie started in that motherly tone that could make you question all bad judgment. “Reporting it is the right thing to do. No matter what.”

Just then, JJ and John B came back out of the tent. JJ shook his head. “No luck.” You couldn’t say you were surprised. Or disappointed. All heads turned to John B who stared out at nothing. He fiddled with the key before voicing his thoughts. 

“...I think I know how we’re gonna find the guy who owns that boat.”

“No, no, no,” Pope stressed, pointing at the key as if the object was to blame. “No bad ideas. We don’t know whose that is.”

The two boys ignored him, JJ taking the key from John B’s fingers and tossing it to Kie. “I’m in.” He declared. 

“Come on,” Kie urged Pope. “I’ll be lookout.”

You shrugged, following behind them but talking to Pope as you walked backwards. “At least we tried.” You turned to walk forwards, JB trailing behind you. 

“Finder’s fee, just sayin’” You heard him say. “And hey! At least you’ll only be an accomplice.”

Pope sighed before you heard his footsteps join the group. “Man…”

“Come on, bubba.” John B comforted, throwing an arm over the dark-skinned boy's shoulders.

THE FIVE OF YOU ALL STOOD, NOT MOVING, AS YOU SILENTLY JUDGED THE MOTEL COMING INTO VIEW IN FRONT YOU AS THE HMS POGUE DRIFTED CLOSER TO IT. 

“This is place is a shithole.” You were the first to say it out loud. The cloudy windows, the overgrown vines on the, what you guessed used to be, white walls, and the overgrown weeds. 

“I thought The Chateau looked bad...”

“Motel or Meth-lab?”

“Doesn’t look like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would stay.” John pointed out the obvious.

“It looks like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would get mugged.” You mumbled as JJ winded up the rope and jumped off the front of the boat, tying it down to anchor it in place. 

“We good?” John B asked as the chipper blonde wrapped the blue and white rope around the anchor point a couple more times for good measure.

“Good to go.”

“All right,” John B said. “Here goes nothing.”

“Hey.” Pope uttered, pointing a finger at JJ but maintaining eye contact with JB. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

“I’m not making any promises.” Was all John B said, you and Pope simultaneously rolling your eyes.

“Be careful…” Kiara spoke softly, handing John B the key. “I mean it.” John B kept his eyes on hers until a small smile crept up on his sun kissed cheeks. He let out a soft, almost school-girlish chuckle.

“Yeah...” He muttered as he turned to walk away with JJ. 

Seconds passed as you watched the boys disappear, already knowing nothing good could come out of those two. It was only a small matter of time before Kiara spoke up, eyes on you as she fiddled nervously with her fingers.

“You should go with them.”

You could feel your expression morph into one of of confusion, looking on both sides of you. “Me?” You asked incredulously, pointing a finger at yourself. “Why me?”

“Well, they’d just rope Pope into whatever dumb decision they make, so he’s not an option.”

“Hey!” Pope threw his hands up in a poor attempt to defend himself. His mouth opened and closed, trying to find words before eventually surrendering to the fact that what she said was at least somewhat truthful.

“And what about you?” You asked, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow. “Any chance for some extra time with John B, right?” You teased, edging towards the girl as she rolled her eyes.

“Will all of you stop saying that?” She looked away, playing with her bracelets. "I just get worried..."

You laughed and playfully pecked her cheek. “Yeah, worried. More like hot and bothered.” You played with the girl, hopping off the boat and landing just barely on your feet. You hadn’t made it but two steps before you heard her voice again.

“Hey!” You turned around. “Don’t forget your phone.” She reminded, tossing the small device your way as you caught it between your palms. A slight look of uncertainty on your face.

“Aren’t the towers down?”

Both of them shrugged before Pope spoke. “Couldn't hurt to have it.”

You pondered on it for a moment before letting the thought go. It wasn’t long before you caught up to the boys, the two not even noticing your presence behind them over their own conversation.

“...super sexy island chick that can play guitar and loves dogs. And her mom’s a hotshot lawyer, dude! Do you know how many guys on this island alone would jump at the chance to hit that?”

“I’d jump at the chance to hit you.” You disrupted whatever direction that conversation was going in. “I don't even want to know.” You snarked when he stuttered to defend himself, their heads turning back, JJ blubbering like a fish with his eyes wide.

“Where the hell did you...”

“Just, sh.” You dismissed him with your palm, John B chuckling under his breath. 

“It’s like, every girl who has a heartbeat you’re just like…” John B made a semi-sexual motion with his hands and let out some ancient, elderly groan. 

“It’s not a big deal.” JJ defended, the topic of conversation dying as the three of you approach the end of the walkway.

“Is this us? Twenty-nine?” You piped up, pointing to the motel door that was scuffed up entirely, paint chipped and scratches all over. 

“This is it.” John B declared, staring at the key in his palm. JJ knocked in a rhythm on the wood, pretending to be housekeeping with a high pitched voice. 

“Should we try it?” John B looked at JJ for a green light, JJ saying something in Spanish as you looked around before giving JB a nod as your signal of agreement. The door creaked open as we stood in the frame. Needless to say, the room looked better than the exterior. There was a decent sized duffel bag on the bed closest to the door, it was clear to see that the room was actually occupied for a considerable amount of time. 

“I’ll check the bag.” JB directed, using the flashlight to search through the bag. “Definitely over 50, he’s got New Balances…”

You shot him a dirty look that he couldn’t see. “I have New Balances…” You mumbled.

JJ was leaned over a map on the nightstand, scanning it curiously. “Maybe this is where they were fishing.” He declared, John B and you crowding around him on either side. “Right there?” He pointed with his finger at a spot on the map.

“No, that’s off the continental shelf.” John B argued. 

“That’s the Big Swell. No one fishes there.” You informed.

JJ continued looking over the map for a bit as you saw John B lift a piece of paper that was ripped from the motel notepad, a series of numbers written on it. You couldn’t see what numbers they were exactly but they didn’t seem important as he sat the paper down and both boys backed away from the nightstand.

You used the flashlight on your phone to continue scouting the room. It was what you’d expect out of a motel room — chipped walls, dust particles visible at every turn, the faint smell of sweat and what was either mildew or mold. Or both. 

“Oooh...” JJ could be heard from the bathroom.

“You find somethin’?” You inquired, walking into the space he was in and watching him rifle through a small black bag on a shelf.

“Just a dopp kit Bree won’t let me steal.” He whispered before peeking his head through the doorframe and pocketing a bottle of pills.

You swatted his chest, prompting him to clutch his chest like an offended old woman. “We aren’t stealing.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Put those back.”

“Whoever’s it is won’t miss them. They’re probably dead somewhere-”

“We’re not taking anything, JJ. Just put them back-”

“You know how much these could sell for?”

“I don’t care-”

“What are you guys doing?” JB was standing in the doorframe, flashlight by his side as he eyed the both of you back and forth. You both pausing and looking at John B, then each other.

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, heading for the main bedroom. John B followed, crouching down in front of a cabinet that held a safe before he began punching in numbers.

“That will literally take forever.” You reprimanded, eyeing him with confusion as you shifted your weight behind him. 

“One, one, one, two?...” He ignored you as he continued punching in combinations.

“...Or try the piece of paper you picked up not even two minutes ago?” You told him as if was the most obvious thing in the world, face twisting as you threw your free hand out to the side. He paused in his number-punching, his head craning to the side before he stood up and looked at you.

“Maybe you are good for something.” He spoke absentmindedly, walking past you to get the piece of paper as JJ reviewed the map once again. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean…” You mumbled to no one in particular as he brushed past you once again to go back to entering codes into the safe, this time you crouching next to him, watching as he punched ‘61666’ into the keypad. You watched as the door unlocked itself. 

Your eyes widened when John B fully opened the safe, revealing wads of cash secured with rubber bands, a folder, and a gun. 

“I don’t think we should…” You started.

“Holy shit.” John B proclaimed in awe, picking up one of the stacks of money.

“..touch, any of that.” 

“JJ, you’re gonna wanna see this.” The boy called the blonde over, waving the money behind him.

JJ made his way behind the both of you. You could hear his gasp of “no freaking way” before his hand was reaching to grab the one thing in the safe all of you knew better than to touch — the gun.

“Why would you do that?” You whisper-shouted with wide eyes, standing up alongside John B as JJ played around with the firearm.

“Dude, don’t touch it!” John B warned.

“This is a fucking spendy-gatt man! Blat! Blat!” JJ geeked like a school girl, pretending to shoot the gun at the wall. “Just take a picture of me, man.”

“You want me to take a picture of you? With a gun?” John B asked as if JJ was an idiot. Just then, you heard something hit the frame of the window above the nightstand, speed walking over to it and peeking through the blinds to see a frantic Pope and Kie pointing to their left, mouthing what you thought was the word ‘cops’.

“What is it?” John B and JJ said almost simultaneously as you pushed through both of them to peek out of the window next to the motel room door, spotting Deputy Shoupe and another officer making their way to the room.

“Cops.” You spoke monotonously. “Go. Now. Hide.” You urged as the three of you scattered like mice throughout the room. 

“Kildare County Sheriff’s Department!” A manly voice boomed on the other side of the door when you decided to lift the window, urging the two boys to follow you out onto the roof as quietly as possible.

You could hear the officers enter the room seconds later, telling one another to look around. John B got a little too curious, peeking his head slowly around the corner before you grabbed the ends of his hair that poked out under his baseball cap to snatch his face away from the window.

“Ouch!” He whisper-yelled, hand going to the back of his head.

“What’re you, five? Stop peeking.”

The three of you waited, hearing the muffled chatter of the officers inside as now both John B and JJ attempted to peeked inside, little visibility with the blinds being closed. For some odd, unknown reason, JJ decided to try and retrieve the gun he shouldn’t have touched in the first place from his pocket, the metal slipping through his fingers and clattering against the roof you were standing on.

You all cringed at the noise, giving JJ a side glance and thumping your head against the brick wall. 

Your heart jumped in your throat when the blinds were suddenly drawn up from the inside, Shoupe peeking outside of the window carefully. The three of you waited, anticipating the worst thing to happen until he spoke, voice deafened from the wall between you.

“No one’s here. Let’s go.” You allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“WELL, THAT WAS FUN.” JJ spoke with a chipper tone.

“The cops took everything like it was a crime scene.” Pope spoke up. “Did you guys even find anything?”

“Did we find anything? No, I don’t think so…” JJ mocked, reaching into his pockets. All you could do was roll your eyes as he whipped out the gun and a wad of cash. “Oh, yeah, we did.”

“What the hell?” Pope said, anger in his voice. “Why would you take that from a crime scene?!”

“My thoughts exactly.” You reprimanded under your breath, glancing at Pope who looked at you for a brief second. 

“Better than the cops having it.” JJ tried to justify, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Are you serious?” Kie added. 

“I’m gonna lose my merit scholarship.” Pope worried, JJ pulling him into his side and putting the gun to his lips as he shushed him.

“At least you have us, right?” JJ tried to remedy to which Pope, as well as the rest of you, gave him a deadpan look, shoving him off.

“I’m living a nightmare.”

It wasn’t long before you’d made it back to the docks where it was now swarmed with emergency services. The coroner’s had a man’s body on a stretcher as they questioned another. You all watched on the sidelines with another group of teens as a middle-aged woman ran up to the body, cradling his face.

“Who’s that?” JJ asked.

“Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm.” A random blonde girl replied. “Check out this pic I got. Dead Body.” She mocked, shoving her phone into John B’s face.

“...What kind of boat did he have?” JJ piped up randomly, most eyes turning to him.

“Somehow,” The girl started. “That dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady White. Everyone’s out looking for it.”

BACK AT THE CHATEAU, POPE CAME THROUGH THE DOOR, FRANTIC AS HE JOINED THE REST OF YOU ON THE PATIO. “Okay, so we didn’t see anything and we don’t know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia.” 

“Actually, Pope’s right, for once.” JJ chimed in from his place on the chair farthest from the rest of you. “Deny, deny, deny…” 

“Guys, we can’t keep that money.” Kie interrupted as if the thought had been plaguing her mind.

“Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara.”

“That’s not fair, JJ.” You added from your place next to John B, leaning against the post that held up the house.

“Coming from another person who can afford an unlimited data plan.”

“Why are you acting like we didn't live down the street from each other like, eight months ago?” You criticized.

“But you don’t live there now, do you, princess?”

“Don’t call me that." You warned, chucking a pillow at him as he dodged it. "You know I hate when you call me that-”

“Guys.” Pope stopped your childish bickering, allowing Kie to finish her thought. 

“We have to pass it off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it’s bad karma.” 

You shook your head in disagreement. “If anything, giving her the money is bad karma. This whole thing is sketchy and those wads of cash literally scream drug money.”

“I agree.” JB finally spoke. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. One time, I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot.”

“I can attest to that, I saw him doing the same outside of a Shopper’s once. He didn’t have a shirt on. It was disturbing.” You added absentmindedly.

John B threw his hands in your direction as if saying you were proving his point further. “We are talking about a dirtbag, marina rat who’s never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket and somehow managed to get a brand-new Grady White. Think about it—how does a marina rat get a Grady White, Pope?”

The boy sucked air in through his teeth, tilting his head to the side. “Prostitution?” John B shook his head in disagreement.

“Uh-uh. Square groupers, bro.” He claimed, using his hands for emphasis. “Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don’t do that stuff during a hurricane. Which means? JJ?” John B handed off the invisible mic to the blonde.

“They were straight smugglin’.”

“And I guarantee there’s a serious amount of contraband in that wreck.”

“For the record,” Pope began to tell the four of you in that overly-intelligent tone, fiddling with the wad of money. “If that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on it, it probably belongs to someone else. Someone could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“Right,” JJ added, taking the stolen stack of money from Pope’s hand. “But stupid things have good outcomes all the time.”

“But usually not in our case…”

“Not helping, Princess.” JJ quipped, head tilting in your direction. You took steps in his direction, smacking him upside the head and snatching the wad of cash from his hands, counting it as you spoke.

“Ouch- dammit!” He exclaimed, caressing the back of his head.

“I warned you once. Listening is fundamental.”

“We need a way on to the ship.” John B added, ignoring you both with that distant look in his eyes. “But for now we gotta lay low.”

“Right…and how exactly do we do that?” JJ inquired, leaning back in his seat.

Sharing a glance with Kie, you both looked back at the boy in front of you before speaking at the same time.

“Kegger?”

THE BONEYARD WAS CROWDED, TO SAY THE LEAST. With Kildare being such a small part of the Outer Banks, news spread quickly. The beach flooded with tourons, pogues, and kooks alike. Beer sloshing, girls dancing.

You’d all went your own sort of ways when it started to kick up — JJ chugging beer with some chick, John B chatting up another, Kie educating a group of girls, and Pope scaring off some poor girl with dead body talk. You’d just gotten off the keg, lightheaded as you stood back up the right way from where two strangers were holding your legs as everyone around you chanted, wiping the beer from your lips when Kie approached you with a snarl on her face.

“What is she doing here?” Your eyebrows pinched together, your eyes following hers to find what had her wound so tight.

It was no other than Sarah Cameron — stood on an old beach post with her loyal dog of a boyfriend, Topper, right behind her. You couldn’t help but internally groan, turning back to Kiara with an eye roll that set into an annoyed expression. 

“God, why is she everywhere?” The brown-haired girl complained as your eyes drifted across the beach, landing on the puppy-eyed friend of yours whose own eyes were fixated on the blonde near the shore. Even from feet away, you didn’t miss the glint in his eye. But there was no way JB had a thing for Sarah Cameron, right? He knew how you and Kie felt about her and he didn’t like Kooks. There was no way.

Nudging Kie’s shoulder, you spoke again. “Better question is, why is John B looking at her like that?”

Kiara’s attention drifted to John B, watching him like he was watching Sarah. A look in her eyes you couldn’t quite decipher — somewhere between disappointment and betrayal. Your own attention was pulled back to the aforementioned couple who were steadily approaching the crowd of teens.

If this were a house party, you’d shun them at the door. Unfortunately, this was public beach and nothing could be done to stop them from joining in.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN AND WHAT ONCE WAS A KEGGER IN FULL SWING WAS NOW A BEACH FULL OF TEENS CROWDED AROUND BONFIRE. The four of you were sitting near one another, the only one missing being JJ.

“I’m just saying, it was ninth grade guys. Maybe she’s changed.”

“Ninth grade or not, Sarah Cameron is still a bitch.” You shot at JB who was suspiciously defensive of a girl who really only knew of through his job, Kiara, and yourself. The topic of conversation kept drifting back to Sarah throughout the night, watching her frolic and gawk at the crowd of people as if she’d never been to a party before. Topper glued to her side per usual.

You all watch from the side as Topper grabbed her hand, helping her up from the log they were perched on as it seemed they finally decided to call it a night just as JJ had come back with the beers he’d went to go refill for John B and himself. 

John B stood up and approached his friend, ready to take the cup when Sarah and Topper walked by, gaining the attention of a drunk JJ Maybank who wouldn’t let them go unnoticed. If Kooks had one-hundred haters, JJ was the leader of them. If Kooks had no haters, JJ was dead. 

“Wait, Sarah!” He stopped them in their tracks. “Can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?” He slurred. Sarah looked him up and down before politely declining the offer. You, Kie, and Pope watched the interaction silently from your places in the sand. “What? Is it not fancy enough for you?”

“We were just leaving…” She sassed, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“Y’know what?” Topper mused. “I’ll take it. Thank you, man. ‘Preciate it.” You could tell this wasn’t a genuinely civil interaction, the remaining three of you in the sand watching from the sidelines sparing one another a weary glance.

“That’s a nice gesture, Topper, but I didn’t ask you.” JJ retorted, the smile dropping from Topper’s face quickly. John B was already attempting to step in between the two. “If you said ‘pretty please’? Maybe. But you didn’t. So…”

“Oh, pretty please?” Topper shot back unbelievably. 

JJ dismissed him, turning back to Sarah and once again offering the drink when Topper suddenly smacked the drink away, the beverage splattering all over JJ’s face. The beach of teen’s attention was suddenly pulled to the four of them in the middle of the beach as you, Kiara, and Pope stood from your spots in the sand.

JJ was quick to snatch Topper by the collar of his button-up before John B pushed him back in an effort to calm down his friend. He was speaking to JJ, words no one could hear until Topper shouted ‘dirty pogues’, stealing John B’s attention in a matter of seconds as the boy whipped around to march towards him.

John B pushed Topper’s shoulders back, the action not doing much. The three of you still standing figured it was time to step in, dispersing from your places and getting in between the four of them — mainly the three guys as Sarah stood off to the side. . 

You saw it coming before you heard the connect, Topper edging towards John B before striking him in the jaw.  “Hey!” You shouted, jogging in their direction with Kie by your side as you watched Topper kick your friend while he was down.

“Guys? Guys!” You heard Sarah shouting. 

“Don’t make me drown you like your old man, alright?!” Topper spat. If you were any further back in the crowd that all watched like this was a professional brawl, you wouldn’t have heard it.

The statement obviously struck a nerve within JB, the boy finding strength in his state of anger to get up and tackle Topper into the shallow water. You usually weren’t one to condone violence, but JB was standing his ground and Topper deserved it.

The two boys circled each other, taking turns throwing punches. The odds were in John B’s favor, until they weren’t, Topper taking the opportunity to flip him onto his back into the water. 

You couldn’t tell what was happening immediately until you finally registered what was going on. Topper had John B pinned by the back of his neck, face down into the shallow sea water.

“Topper!” Sarah shouted over and over, her whining making your fists ball.

“Sarah!” You turned to her. “Will you shut the hell up and get your psychotic boyfriend?!” All the girl could do was shoot you a mean glare, turning back to the sight in front of her and continuing her chant of Topper’s name.

“He’s drowning him.” You heard Kiara speak behind you. Your eyes scanned the beach for something, anything — landing on a thick piece of driftwood, you wasted no time in sprinting over to it, picking it up almost like a baseball bat. You could hear your three friends calling your name as you ran up behind Topper, wielding the piece of wood like a weapon, ready and fully prepared to knock his ass out with it.

You were feet away from the angry, rich blonde before JJ had beat you to it, holding a gun to the back of his head. You stopped in your tracks, the piece of wood falling to your side as your jaw went slack and your eyes wide.

“JJ!” Kiara yelled.

“Dude, chill!” Pope shouted, walking up behind his erratic friend.

“JJ! Put the gun down!” Sarah tried, finally deciding to actually step in with the rest of you. The blonde girl shouted you and Kie’s names. “Will you check your psycho friend, please?!”. You and Kie simply ignored the girl.

“We’re good! We’re good!” Topper surrendered, releasing John B’s neck from his hands. You, along with Pope and Kiara, wasted no time in rushing over to aid your friend, kneeling in the wet sand and salt water next to him as the three of you sat him up.

“Everyone listen up!” JJ continued. “Get the hell off our side of the island!” He yelled, shooting stray bullets to the sky. You flinched slightly at the unexpected, ear-ringing sound.

“JJ!” You yelled at him, louder than you had the entire night. The crowd of teens dispersing, running every which way in between the trees. You made sure Kiara and Pope could take care of your wounded friend themselves before shooting up from your crouched position and approaching JJ, snatching his shoulder back to face you before pushing his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have any idea what you just did?!”

“I was saving his life, okay?!”

“By firing a gun you stole?!”

JJ had no idea the trouble he’d just created and the argument didn’t go much further than that when the four of you heard a splash and turned back to find John B, who’d collapsed, unconscious, back into the water. 

“I’M CALLING IT OFF.” Was the first word said between any of you. It was the next morning and John B had called you all together at The Chateau, the five of you spread out in the yard. There was a cloud hanging over the group, a tense silence. The only noise being a ball JJ kept tossing back and forth. “Peterkin said that if I stay out of The Marsh, she’ll help with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ asked as if his friend was the biggest dunce in the world. 

“Yes, I believed her, JJ, she's the Sheriff. All I have to do is stay out The Marsh for a few days and she’ll help me out.” He repeated. “It doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting a gun!”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head side to side. “Y’know what? I should’ve let Topper drown your ass.” 

“Yeah, because Topper was really going to drown me.”

“It sure looked like it. I mean, have you looked in a mirror?” JJ shot back, leaning against a wooden post of the outdoor structure. “They always win, don’t they, man? They don’t want us in The Marsh which means there’s something valuable down there.” JJ tried to reason, eyes pleading with the rest of you. “I understand why you don’t wanna go.” He pointed at Pope. “You’re the Golden Boy, too much to risk.” Then his eyes were on Kie. “And you’re rich as fuck, anyway. Why would you bother?” She ignored him, rolling her eyes as his own blue ones landed on you. “And you? You-”

“Don’t go there, JJ.” You warned him, eyes connecting with his, a serious expression plastered all over your face. You stared at one another, a bitter exchange without words. Then, he was looking at John B.

“We got nothing nothing to lose. And I know it didn’t use to be that way for you.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this.” 

“I have plan John B, just listen,” JJ started, staring at the tense back of his best friend who wouldn't face him. “You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?”

“No, dude-”

“There’s scuba gear!” The blonde protested, standing right next to John B now. “We borrow that, go down to The Wreck this afternoon-” Your eyes met Kie and Pope’s as you mockingly mouthed ‘borrow’, the jab followed by an eye roll. JJ Maybank was never known to just ‘borrow’ anything. “And that’s what going to save you. You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?”

“AND WE’RE SERIOUSLY LETTING JOHN B STEAL FROM THE LION’S DEN?” You questioned as the remaining four of you lounged around the boat. “I mean, what if he gets caught? I doubt Ward will just let him go.”

“He won’t get caught.” JJ exhaustedly reassured you for the millionth time as he unanchored the small motor boat from the dock.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, judging by the lanky bandana wearing boy waddling towards us with his hands occupied by oxygen tanks, I’d say he did just fine.” Everyone’s attention was now drawn to John B, climbing one leg over the other into the boat, letting the tanks clank against the floor of the water vehicle.

You were the first to snatch them up, shooting JJ a mean glare for his sarcasm. It was only seconds before you scoffed and let your head fal back, zoning your sights in on John B. “Good job, you scored empty tanks.”

“What?” He proclaimed breathlessly, a look of sheer confusion written across his face as you continued looking at the meters on the tanks.

You held up one of them on display. “This one's a quarter-full. That’s only enough for one of us. And judging by the look on your faces, I’m going to assume I’m the only one here who knows how to dive?” They all averted their eyes. “Great.”

“It’s kind of a kook sport…” JJ mumbled. You supposed he was right but for you it was just a skill that your dad had spent years teaching you, being a professional diver himself. “Plus, how hard could it be anyway. You put the thing in your mouth and breathe.”

“Well,” Pope started. “If you come up too fast the nitrogen could enter your bloodstream and you could get the bends.” 

“The bends? Like bend over?-” JJ tried to joke before being cut off, his body in a half bent position.

“The bends kill you.” You and Pope both corrected simultaneously, both with the same amount of annoyance in your tone. Shaking your head, you stood up with the semi-full tank in hand and made your way over to Pope.

“You’re the only person I trust to help me with the math on this.” You proclaimed. The boy’s eyes widened, nearly jumping up from his feet, a notepad and pencil in his hand that seemed to almost appear out of thin air.

“Yeah, yeah, I can help,” He stammered. “The boat’s about thirty-feet down. So, at that depth, it’ll take twenty-five minutes. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about ten feet. For two minutes.”

“Got it.”

“When you’re down there,” JJ started, key in hand. “Look for the cargo hold, stick this thing inside, twist and pull-”

“I know how to use a key, JJ.” 

“I- y’know you have been very sassy today, little miss thing, and I don’t appreciate it, alright?” He started ranting in mock-offense. “That’ll be the last time I try to help you.” He muttered, pouting next to Pope. You chuckled before picking up the oxygen meter, trying to make sure you would have enough air to decompress. And you did, just barely.

“Hey,” Pope announced. “If we get caught in The Marsh, we’re basically screwed, so…”

“Is this your way of telling me to get my ass into the water?” His eyes looked around as if he were thinking deeply, a small nonchalant shoulder shrug before he was replying.

“Mmm...Basically, yeah.” You snickered at the boy before stripping down to your bikini, pulling the tank over your shoulders and the mask down over your face before jumping in. Once you were in the water, you gave one last look to your friends before letting the air fill your lungs and going completely under. 

You started to make your descent, slowly. Making your safety stop at what you estimated to be about ten feet as Pope has advised. Stopping for those two minutes before continuing to dive further down.

The water was dark, foggy, and murky — a lot different from diving in ocean water. It was like walking through an abandoned mansion with only a lighter to see. Nonetheless, your eyes landed on the cargo hold within the sunken boat. It was a small struggle trying to fit the key into the hole with the water swaying your hand in different directions but you managed after a couple tries.

Twisting and pulling as JJ had directed, the cargo holds door came up, floating gracefully to the side, revealing what was inside. A black duffel bag and even in the water, it was still decently heavy. You couldn’t waste time examining what was inside with the amount of oxygen you were running on, so you started to swim your way back up, careful not to move too fast.

Following the length of the bowline, the boat came into view the closer you got to the surface of the water. But then so did another, a slightly larger one. You stopped, squinting trying to make out whose boat it could be but it was pointless. The meter on your tank told you that you had about a minute before you were out of air. 

You waited for what felt like minutes but what had really only been about fifteen seconds. Your heart thumped out of your chest when you saw a figure standing on the edge of your friend’s boat through the water that was far too buff to be any of your friends. And you could’ve sworn it was Deputy Shoupe.

You were still but you didn’t feel still enough, as if any slight movement might make the man able to see through water. To see you. You couldn’t get caught in The Marsh. They couldn’t know Scooter’s boat was here. One wrong move and you could screw this all up. Despite your nerves, you looked frantically at the meter in your hand — fifteen seconds of air left.

And it just kept getting lower.

You were mentally screaming at whoever that figure was to get the hell out of here. Ten seconds. Then five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Zero.

You had no air left and your only option was to hold your breath and hope for the best. And maybe a little hope was all you needed because by the grace of God, the figure retreated not long before the boat was speeding away. You wasted no time in swimming towards the surface, bursting through the waves and snatching the mask off as fresh air filled your lungs.

You heard sighs of relief as your chest filled and your hearing returned to normal. 

“Don’t scare us like that!”

“Scare you?” You breathed out, treading water while looking at your four friends. “I thought I was gonna die!”

“What’d you find?” asked Pope.

“I don’t know but it’s something.” You started swimming back towards the boat, throwing the bag overhand towards JJ as you climbed up the ladder. 

“You good?” Pope questioned, concerned. “You scared the shit out of us. The cops were up here but we took care of ‘em.” So it was Shoupe, you thought as you plopped yourself down on the boat, wasting little time in shrugging the tank off of your back when you spotted another boat coming in your direction.

“Guys? Bogey, two o’clock.” You announced, breathlessly. 

“Anybody recognize it?” Pope asked, prompting collective ‘no’s’ to sound out. 

“What’re they doing here? The Marsh is closed…” John B questioned silently.

"Maybe they don't know?" You threw out.

“My vote’s on not sticking around to find out.” JJ advised, going straight for the bowline as fast as he could to unanchor the boat. John B began steering the boat before the anchor was even completely out of the water. 

“Go into The Marsh. Go.” Pope commanded firmly. At that moment, the opposing boat followed the HMS Pogue and you could’ve sworn it sped up. 

“They’re definitely following us.” Kie voiced worriedly. Looking back, there were only two men on the boat. Two faces you’d never seen in Kildare before.

“Gun it, JJ!” John B shouted. There was no doubt that you all were being followed at this point and you didn’t want to know what would happen if they caught up. Your hand was gripping the edge of the boat as it sped through the shaky waters, the small boat practically zooming past everything in sight but the two men remained on your tail. Suddenly, the man not steering the motorboat behind you pulled out something — a unmistakable object.

“Guys, get down!” Was the last thing heard and the only thing you could shout before a shot rang out in the air, a stray bullet clanking against the structure of John B’s boat but failing to puncture anything severe, everyone ducking except the boy himself. 

“John B, get down!” Another shot followed, zooming right past your head. So close and so fast that you didn’t even see it, the only sign being the sound of wind breaking next to your ear and a stinging, burning sensation at the top of it.

“Jesus!” You shouted, slouching against the inside of the boat, smooshing yourself in between Kiara and Pope. Your hand went up to hold your ear, pulling it back to reveal a small amount of blood on the tips of your fingers. You doubted you got fatally shot, it couldn’t have been anything more than graze.

“Are you okay?” Kie asked as you drifted your own eyes to meet hers, a genuine concern swimming in her gaze. Your sights roamed her face for a moment before nodding and touching your ear slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Then a third shot was sounding out. “Shit!” yelled Kie, her own eyes were focused on some netting laying in the boat. You watched as she got up and grabbed the material, throwing it over the back of the boat just as the fourth, and hopefully final, shot rang out. The boat that had been following you all spun out once it the net, the trap causing their engine to fail, sending you miles ahead of them in seconds.

You all stood up and stared back at the male figures disappearing behind you, chuckles leaving you all one by one until the boat was nearly shaking with triumphant laughter. You turned to JJ, giving him a victorious double high-five.

“Oh, damn,” His smile fell as his gaze turned to the left side of your face. “Did you get hit?” He asked, his hands reaching out to trail his fingers down the length of your neck, pulling them back to reveal the red substance decorating his fingers.

“Barely. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll have a sick scar, though.”

You scoffed at this. “A girl can only dream.”

THE SUN HAD SET BY THE TIME YOU ALL HAD REACHED THE DOCK. The four of you had all but flew off the boat and onto the wooden platform, John B rushing to unzip the duffel bag you’d retrieved, still shivering slightly from your damp state. You’d thrown your t-shirt back on at some point, using your shorts to soak up the blood from your ear which made them un-wearable.

“It’s gotta be money right?” You expressed, shaking the remaining water from your damp hair.

“That or a couple of keys with street value from the low to mid-mills.”

“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope blurted quite aggressively. The group turning to him in shock and amusement.

“Wow, Pope. That’s a… rare outburst of emotion.” John B added. 

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

“Same.” You added in your two cents. “I almost drowned for this.”

“We all almost died for this.” Pope cut in.

“Yeah, that too, I guess.” You dismissed him playfully.

John B finished unzipping the bag, revealing a metal container about the size of a human thigh. Anchoring the object between his knees, he grunted and groaned as he attempted to twist it open until it popped, allowing him to twist off the top and reveal…

“A compass?” Kie said unamused, almost disgustedly. Pope threw his hands over his head and JJ scoffed.

“Great job, everybody. We found a compass.” The blonde threw out. But John B saw something. He was looking at this object as if it meant the entire world to him, and that look prompted you to kneel next to your best friend and set a hand on his shoulder.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You asked softly, eyes fleeting back and forth between John B’s watery gaze and the dingy compass.

“...This was my father’s.”

[headkiss]

become the sun

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: figuring out how to move on from life in hawkins, steve takes a trip to the beach, where he meets you, who becomes his tour guide and maybe more than that.

word count: 14.5k

warnings: fluff, teeny bit of angst, strangers to friends to lovers, and some kisses!!!

a/n: hiiii i am so excited to finally have beach steve done for u guys!!! it’s inspired by true blue by boygenius (if u couldn’t tell by the title)!!! i put a lot into this one and i hope u like it <3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The beach is an interesting place. It changes with the seasons, the population shrinking as the leaves fade from green to brown.

There’s the crowds that come through from the months of June to August, the people that occupy summer homes, the tourists stopping by, the sand stuck to skin, the coconut smell of sunscreen. It’s when everything is bright, saturated with sunlight and people.

And then, there’s winter. The cooler weather driving away the summertime residents, turning things into a quiet town where the locals all know each other. Snow falling on the beach in January, hands tucked into jacket pockets.

For Steve, it was exactly what he needed. A getaway, room to grow, something away from Hawkins where he felt stuck, still.

For you, the beach is home.

You’ve lived in True Beach your entire life, in one of its classic blue houses with white trimming and accents. You’ve watched the town grow, watched people come and go with the seasons.

The town sits on the east coast, tucked away and—when it isn’t in the heat of summer—small.

You’ve been working at the cafe for years, floating between positions. Baking in the back, ringing people through, cleaning tables. Mornings are spent in the cafe, then, when you’re off, you’re trying to soak up whatever summer has to offer.

Today, you’re heading out the door with your swimsuit on under a sundress, tote bag on your shoulder.

“Have a good one, sweetie!” Macy, your boss (more like a mother figure and friend by now) calls from the counter as the bell above the door jingles with your exit.

“Bye, Macy!”

The heat hits you as soon as you step out the door, your eyes squinting in the sun as you try to fish your sunglasses from your bag.

Your walk to the shore is easy, the steps nothing but muscle memory by now. You cross main street, head towards the path worn into the sand by foot traffic, over the small dunes until the sound of waves crashing onto sand hits your ears. It’s mixed with laughter, conversation, the sound of kids playing.

It’s pure summer.

Towel laid out, you settle in a spot a bit further from the shoreline, enough so that there isn’t anyone else sitting in close proximity to you.

Soon enough, you’ve got your dress pulled off and tossed into your bag, a layer of sunscreen applied, and a book in your hand. You’re laying on your stomach, propped on your elbows, ankles crossed. You’re so wrapped up in the words in front of you and the heat of the sun on your back that you don’t notice the boy setting his things nearby and jogging towards the water. Not until he comes back.

A droplet of water splashes your page, and you look to the side to find the culprit. Your heart stutters at what you see: a boy shaking out his wet hair the way a dog does, all clumsy and cute.

You’ve never seen him before. This boy with brown hair falling over his forehead, eyes crinkling in the sunlight, freckles in a constellation across his skin, a sunburn kissing the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He’s pretty. You’re glad your sunglasses can hide the way your eyes trail down to his chest, the smattering of hair there, the sand that sticks to his damp skin.

In this part of True Beach, you know pretty much everyone. The locals, the people who stay for the summers, but not him. You’d remember him if you did.

“Good swim?” You speak up.

Steve’s head lifts, his eyes finding you easily, laying on your tummy, sun setting a glow across your skin. He scans you, the curve of your back, the book in your hands. You’re the first person who’s spoken to him so far in True Beach, and for a second, he thinks he might’ve dreamt it.

“Yeah,” he says. He wants to say more, ask your name, something, but the words seem stuck. “It’s beautiful here.”

“First time here?” You push yourself up to sit, book set on your towel, your hands propped behind you.

“First time anywhere, really.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, flickering across your face.

“I hope it’s a good one, then.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face, he slings his towel over his shoulder, “I do, too.”

With that, the boy picks up his bag and heads off, and you can’t help but watch him leave, the freckles that dot his back, the muscles that sit there, too. You hope that you’ll see him again.

You hope that maybe, maybe this summer will be different than the rest.

-

Steve’s staying in a condo down by the beach. A white building with scratched paint and faded accents of greens, yellows, and blues. He’s on the ground floor, his small patio a step away from the sand. Coral Condos, it’s called.

He’d found True Beach on a whim, staring at a map and waiting until something jumped out at him. This town did.

For Steve, Hawkins was becoming too much. A reminder of everything that’s ever happened to him, of things he doesn’t know he’ll ever accomplish. His friends were all moving on, moving away, and he was just there.

First it was Nancy and Jonathan going out of state for college, then it was Eddie moving to Indianapolis for his music. What hit him the hardest was when Robin was off to school, too. When he was working shifts in Family Video alone, with his thoughts and the hum of the TV.

He needed to get out, away from the house that served as a reminder of the absence of his parents. He needed the room to change, to let himself be known as who he is now and nobody else.

So he’s here, spending his summer in True Beach to try and figure things out.

Steve’s been worried about his decision, wondering if it was too much, if he was doing the right thing. Robin had reassured him plenty, but after being in a single town for pretty much his entire life, this trip seems bigger.

Then, you spoke a couple of words to him on the beach, and he thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Even with big sunglasses covering your eyes, there was a kindness there, the beauty of someone not having any preconceived notions about him. Here, King Steve doesn’t exist.

Not to mention that you spoke to him, sunlight bouncing off your skin, lips moving around your words in a way that caught him.

His walk back to his condo is full of replaying your short conversation, the small smile that had spread over your face. Why the hell didn’t he ask your name?

Steve hopes to see you again, to feel the way he did when you talked to him. Like a person, someone worth speaking to, someone without a reputation that follows him despite being long gone, someone he wants to be.

Yeah, he really hopes to see you again.

-

Soon enough, you’re back at the cafe, working your morning shift and glancing up every time the bell above the door jingles. You’d never admit it, not even to yourself, but you’re looking for someone specific. Looking for the boy from the beach.

It’s odd, the little spark of hope you get whenever the door opens. You don’t even know his name.

Instead of facing this strange pull you feel towards a total stranger, you try to focus on work. Your customer service smile, making coffees, bagging sweets. You’ve been doing it long enough that it’s all subconscious, a routine that’s easy to fall into.

Then, only an hour before your shift is meant to end, the boy walks in, hair messy on top of his head.

Unsure if he even remembers you, you try to act natural. “Good morning!”

Steve follows the sound of your voice, finding you at the counter by the register, welcoming smile on your face. He recognizes you right away. It’s the same face he’d seen on the beach, the one he’s thought about since.

“Hi,” he says, stepping up to the counter across from you. He glances down to your name tag, pinned to the strap of your canvas apron. It suits you, he thinks. “Makes more sense than ‘girl from the beach.’”

“Sorry?”

“Your name, I mean.” He shifts a little on his feet. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Steve. A piece of him you won’t have to wonder about anymore. Today, Steve’s wearing a linen button up shirt, the first couple buttons undone, his chest hair peeking out.

“Well hi, Steve. Boy from the beach,” you smile softly, a shared memory floating between you. “What can I get for you?”

If he’s being honest, Steve had sort of forgotten what he came into the cafe for once he saw you standing behind the counter. He looks at the menu on the wall behind you, skimming over the words.

“Um,” he looks back at you, his indecisiveness written in a small wince on his face, “have any drink recommendations?”

“Coming right up.”

You turn to make his drink, the coffee machine whirring behind you, the sound of things brewing a constant background to your day. You pour some ice into a cup, and soon enough you’ve got his drink mixed and poured, too.

You grab a cup sleeve, scrawling a small message on it before you can overthink it, and then slip it onto the cup, turning back to the counter where Steve is waiting, hands tucked into his pockets.

He watched you bounce between things in the cafe, hands moving like it’s second nature to you.

“Here you go,” you say, setting the cup onto the counter.

“Thanks.” Steve picks it up, dropping a bill onto the counter with his other hand.

Again, he finds himself wanting to say more to you, to stretch out the conversation. Instead, he heads to a table in the corner of the cafe and takes a sip of what you’ve made him. Of course it’s good, he thinks. You don’t look like someone who would mess these things up.

Right when he’s about to set the cup back down, he notices the sharpie scrawled onto the sleeve, lettering angled and curved to fit in the empty space. It could only be your writing, the words sweet and simple.

‘Welcome to True Beach :)’

Steve smiles at his cup, at the hint of something friendly, something kind, in a place so new to him.

He really should talk to you more this time, he knows it. Because he regretted not doing it once and he doesn’t want to do it again. So, when he finishes his drink, he walks up to the counter all over again.

“You’re back,” you say, though he never really left. He’d been in the cafe the whole time, your eyes always finding their way back to him.

“Yeah,” he sets his now empty cup down on the counter gently, “can I get another?”

“You liked it?” You smile a little, feeling a zip of success, of some sort of accomplishment.

“I mean, it’s refill worthy, so,” he shrugs like the answer is obvious, shoulder to his sunburnt cheek.

You make him another, the same way you made the first, his eyes on your back, your hands working on autopilot. The recipes make themselves by now, written into your memory.

You still can't really believe Steve’s here, that the boy from the beach walked in when you’d been thinking about him since you spoke. You wonder if it’s some sort of sign, hands of fate pushing him into the cafe.

Either way, you decide to take a chance.

“So,” you hand him his drink, and he hands you another bill and refuses the change, “if you wanted to meet some people, there’s this bonfire tonight at the beach. You should come.”

“Really?” He checks, because there’s no way you’d invite him somewhere after such small conversations, right?

“Yeah, really,” I want you there, you’d say if you had the courage. “You can get to know a bit about True Beach. Being a newbie and all.”

So far in his stay, Steve hasn’t been inclined to seek things out. He’s been alright keeping to himself, going to bed early enough. Now, he’s thinking that it’d be good to get out, to meet people, to explore the way he told himself he would here.

Maybe to see you again, too.

“I’d like that,” he nods, a shy smile on his lips. “You’ll be there?”

In all honesty, you’ve yet to attend a bonfire this summer. You’ve never been a huge fan of them, really. But if he’s going, so will you.

“I’ll be there,” you confirm. “It’s down by the docks. Sort of hard to miss.”

“I’ll see you later then, girl from the beach.”

“Later,” you smile, and a mirrored expression spreads on Steve’s face. “Boy from the beach.”

He turns and leaves, the bell above the door ringing yet again with his exit. For once, you spend what remains of your shift eager for the day to pass, for it to be nighttime with a fire crackling nearby and the boy from the beach as company.

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you, doesn’t know how or why, but somehow, you’ve made him feel like he’s in the right place. Like leaving Hawkins wasn’t this big huge mistake the way he’d worried it would be.

He needed to get out, he knows that, and he’s done it, but he’s yet to move on. Maybe tonight could be a step towards that, a step towards new friends (though he’ll always have those from Hawkins), a new environment, a new beginning.

He thinks about it all on his walk back to the condo. His past, what could be his future. He doesn’t know what it looks like, and maybe he never will, but he knows that the sun warming his skin and the salt in the air is something he could get used to. Something he could love, if he could just let himself.

And when Steve eventually throws away his cafe cup, he makes sure to keep the sleeve with your handwriting on it. A souvenir as good as any.

Maybe a sign, too. A promise of some sort.

-

Your hands are covered by the sleeves of your sweater as you walk over to the bonfire, bright orange casting a glow over the sand, the warmth of the flames hitting you as you draw nearer.

It’s early enough that hints of the sun remain in the sky, a stripe of orange on the horizon, fading into blue as you look up. It’s a really nice night, the stars and moon bright above you, the breeze still warm enough to wear shorts. Even so, you can’t help but be nervous.

You haven’t been to one of the bonfires in a long time, and though you see these people often in town, it’s never like this. Never all at once.

Plus, there’s Steve. You hadn’t told him a time, but he said he’d come and despite barely knowing him, he seems like the kind of guy who means what he says. The anticipation is what gets you. What you’ll say when you see him, how to act.

You’ve never wanted to get to know someone the way you do with him, the instant sense that he’s a person you’d like to have in your life, and that’s intimidating in itself.

“Look who decided to show up!” It’s Steph’s voice, your longtime friend, forever neighbor.

“Hey,” you give her a small smile, happy to see her and apologetic all at once. “Sorry it’s been so long.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she tosses an arm around your neck, “come on!”

Steph guides you to the group standing around the fire, people you’ve known forever, people who cheer at your appearance (though the enthusiasm is hugely influenced by their various states of being drunk).

It’s Mason who works at the record store, Vic that busses tables in the diner like no other. It’s everyone who makes True Beach what it is and you’re glad to be a part of it, even if your mind continues to drift elsewhere.

You keep looking towards the path that leads to the beach, hoping to see a silhouette coming through, the boy from the beach. Steve.

It’s unusual, the way you wait for him to show up. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve had this sort of eagerness, the excitement of meeting someone new, of feeling this pull.

Steph seems to notice your eyes drifting again during your conversation, and she’s quick to ask, “what’s over there?”

“Huh?” You look back at her face, and you don’t exactly love the accusing look on her face.

“You keep looking at the path,” then, she gasps, like she’s discovered something amazing, “are you waiting for someone?”

“What? No.” You shake your head when she nudges her shoulder into yours. “Just thought I saw something.”

“Sure you did, babe.”

All you can do is shake your head again. She’s already gotten the idea in her head, you won’t be getting it out. Besides, even if you won’t say so, she is right, after all.

The night continues on this way, your eyes constantly flicking towards the path, thinking that the person arriving is Steve. It never is, though.

Your hope is shrinking smaller and smaller as the time goes by, thirty minutes, an hour, another hour. Still no sign of him. You’ve only just met, and yet, the disappointment strikes you hard, a sinking in your gut, a thump in your chest. You really thought he’d come.

You shouldn’t be surprised, you think. Or upset, really. You’re a total stranger inviting him to a beach at night, you’ve probably scared him off, freaked him out.

Eventually, you find yourself sitting in the sand by yourself, everyone wrapped up in conversations, laughter ringing behind you.

You stare at the waves, the steady rise and crash onto the shore. You stare and stare and stare until you figure it’s too late now, Steve’s not coming, and you should just go.

So, with an embarrassing lump in your throat, you stand and dust off the back of your shorts and head towards the path, glad that nobody notices your departure, that you're able to force away the tears that have no business being there in the first place.

Where he is, Steve blinks his eyes open gradually, waking up to a dark condo and a kink in his neck. After a day in the sun, he’d accidentally crashed on the couch, falling asleep with the hum of the TV in the background.

At first, he’s just confused, disoriented as he checks the clock and sees the time. 12:26 AM. Then, it hits him. The bonfire, the ‘see you later,’ you.

Fuck.

He scrambles to get up, shoving on his shoes and heading out the door without a thought about how he must look right now. His hair a total mess from being pushed against the couch cushions, his eyes bleary from sleep. That’s not what matters.

Steve’s basically sprinting to the beach, running until he sees the docks, sees the fire still burning nearby. There are still people, too. Maybe I can save this, he thinks, maybe she’s here and I’ll explain and we’ll just laugh about it.

You’re the first person he’s really spoken to here, the first one to make him feel like True Beach was a good idea, and he’d be a fucking idiot to lose the whisper of a friendship before it’s gotten the chance to form. A total fucking idiot.

Breathing heavily from his rush to get here, Steve walks over to the first person he sees, a girl with a can in her hand, her hair in braids that have become loose with time.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, getting her attention.

Steph’s the one he’s addressing, though he has no idea who she is. She turns towards him and smiles politely, because she’s got no idea who he is, either.

“Hm?” She hums.

Steve says your name, the name that’s been in his head since he’d read it on your apron. “Have you seen her?”

“Oh! You’re the one she must’ve been waiting for.” Steph looks around, her eyebrows scrunching, “ummm, she was here. Guess she left.”

You’re the one she must’ve been waiting for, she was here, guess she left.

Steve’s stomach drops. You’d been waiting for him, and he’d practically stood you up like an asshole. Sure, he was asleep and it was unintentional, but you don’t know that, and he feels awful. The things you must’ve been thinking, how you felt.

He feels like the biggest jerk ever.

Steve forces a smile, though he’s sure it’s an awful facade. “Okay, thanks anyway.”

With that, he turns away from Steph and heads back towards the path, his head down, shoulders a little slumped because this isn’t how things were supposed to go.

He was supposed to show up, to talk to you and learn more than your name or where you work, to plant the seed of something between you. Friendship, maybe. More, if he’d been lucky.

“Hey,” Steph calls before Steve gets too far. He turns around. “She’s got a shift tomorrow. Seven AM.”

He nods, and heads off again. He’ll fix this. Somehow, he’s going to fix this and it’ll work. It has to, he thinks, because he needs to know you.

-

Steve barely sleeps that night. For one, there was the nap that was long enough, and then—of course—there’s you. He spent hours laying on his back, watching the ceiling fan whirl above him, trying to figure out what to say.

In the end, he scraps every idea he has and decides to wing it the best he can. Not a great plan, but it’s all he has, so it’ll have to be enough.

Your friend said you started at seven, so Steve shows up at the cafe at exactly 7:02 AM. He's got mismatched socks on his feet, sandals on top of those. He’s sure his eyes are puffy, too, the lack of sleep evident on his face.

Despite that, he opens the cafe door, the bell ringing above his head. He spots you right away, leaning over a table, wiping it down with the towel in your hand, your walkman clipped onto the pocket of your apron, headphones on your head.

There’s someone else at the counter this time, an older woman with crinkles by her eyes and a kind smile. But, Steve came here to see you, so he heads over to the table you’re cleaning.

You can’t hear him coming, you only catch him walking over in your peripheral, his hands shoved in his pockets. You straighten, leaving the towel on the table and pausing your music, pushing your headphones down to rest around your neck.

“Steve. Hi.” You’re sure the surprise is in your voice. You really hadn’t been expecting to see him again.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” is what he says, needing to get it out, unsure of how else to start.

He surprises you a second time, his words are written on his face, the sleepiness in his eyes, the tiny frown on his mouth, the worried scrunch in his brows. It’s impossible to deny his sincerity.

“Oh.” You twist your fingers in the wire of your headphones. “It’s totally fine, you don’t have to apologize to me.”

“No, I do.” Steve pulls his hands from his pockets, and they move as he speaks, like he can’t help it. “Listen, it’s gonna sound made up, but I swear to you, it’s not. I fell asleep.”

“Steve-”

“I did. I got back from the beach and I fell asleep. As soon as I woke up I went to the bonfire, but you’d already left. I’m sorry for making you wait like that.”

You were never angry or upset with him to begin with. It was more towards yourself, the disappointment. You’d built up an expectation of him, of the night, in your head, and it’s your own fault. Still, the explanation has your chest feeling lighter.

“It’s okay, Steve. I mean, I’m a total stranger inviting you to this thing. It’s weird.”

“It’s not! It’s not weird, I promise.” He’s quiet for a second, then, his voice softer than before, he says, “I really did wanna go.”

You’re not sure what it is that gets you, maybe the way his brown eyes seem to melt a little, or the way his voice slows with the last few words, like he really wants you to hear them, but either way, any lingering negativity of the night before seems to fade away.

“You didn’t miss much, really.” You lean your hands behind you on the table. “Just a bunch of people getting drunk and slipping around in the sand.”

“I’m still sorry I didn’t go. I told you I would.”

“Steve, seriously, it’s okay.”

“Thanks for, you know, letting me explain.”

“Stop worrying about it, ‘kay? We’re good.”

Steve wonders if there’s a reason this place jumped out at him when he’d read the name. If some sort of divine intervention led him to True Beach. Because he’d found you here, and though you’ve only spoken a couple of times, he knows that people like you are rare. The sort of kindness that feels refreshing, the easiness of being around you.

He wants more of it, wants to know if maybe there’s a reason he feels like he was meant to meet you.

“I do want to know True Beach,” he says, “being a newbie and all.”

Your words from the day before coming from him make you smile. The thought that he’d remembered what you said well enough to repeat it back. Not everyone listens like that.

“I could show you around, if you wanted? You know, the best spots, the good food.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah! It’s an excuse for me to do more than just be lazy on the beach. Plus, It’d be fun.”

He smiles, this time it’s not hidden or pushed back, it’s a beam of light, sunshine peeking out from behind a cloud. “I’ll take you up on it, then.”

You smile, too. “I’m off at one, if you wanna meet back here?”

“Yeah, yes, that’s great. I’ll be here.”

Steven turns to go, but you call out, “don’t fall asleep this time!”

He faces you again, heads towards the front counter saying, “maybe I should get a coffee. Just to be safe.”

You shake your head with a grin, one that stays on your face even when you turn away and continue to wipe down the tables. Not even 8 o’clock in the morning and it feels like a good day.

Macy’s the one who served Steve his coffee this time, and once he leaves, the cafe now mostly empty, she walks over and leans a hip against the table, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyebrows raised at you.

“So, who was that?”

“His name is Steve.”

“Steve, hm? He’s a cutie.”

“Macy! He’s only here for the summer. And we only just met, alright? It’s nothing.”

Somehow, her eyebrows go even higher, the look on her face one you always get when she knows something. Or, when she thinks she knows something.

“Okay, okay. But I saw your smile just now.” She pokes your cheek, “I know you, sweetie. That wasn’t nothing.”

“I’m just gonna show him around. He’s new here, that’s it, I swear.”

She holds her hands up, “fine, but I will be saying ‘I told you so’ if that changes.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Macy.”

Macy likes to try and play matchmaker with you often, but her tone is usually much more joking than it is now. Though it’s still light, still teasing, it’s different. You wonder if maybe she was seeing something you couldn’t, something you didn’t want to see.

You don’t know this boy, not really. You know he has a way of saying things that make them feel true, that he has the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, that he’s able to pull smiles from you without even trying.

No, you don’t know him, but maybe you could. Starting today.

-

This time, Steve doesn’t leave you wondering. He shows up five minutes before your shift is set to end, and Macy, noticing him walking into the cafe, leans over to you, “looks like your boy is back, sweetie. Go ahead and get out of here.”

You shake your head and let it slide, knowing that she’ll believe whatever she wants no matter how much you fight her on it. You lean your head on her shoulder long enough to say: “thanks, Mace.”

Then, you’re heading out, tugging the bow on the back of your apron loose and slipping it over your head to hang it up on its hook on your way to the back room where you grab your bag. You pause at the mirror by the employee cubbies, smoothing back some baby hairs and brushing stray coffee grinds from your cheeks.

Steve stands to the side of the entrance, somehow looking more sun kissed than he’d been this morning, and he waves when he spots you walking towards him. “My tour guide.”

“That would be me.” There’s a small smile on your face already. There always seems to be one when you talk to him. “You ready to go?”

He moves to open the door, gesturing with his free hand, “lead the way.”

The summer heat hits you as soon as you walk through the door, the sun shining on the side of your face. You twist your head away from the sun and towards Steve, who’s fallen into step beside you, his strides matching yours.

“I thought we’d stay downtown, show you the shops and stuff.” Steve looks at you as you speak, even with the sun making him squint. “Sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect. I trust you.”

He steps around you, tugging your wrist gently to place you on the inside of the sidewalk, and himself closest to the road. It’s a small thing, one that could easily be meaningless, but your heart stutters the slightest bit, your steps slowing before forcing yourself to keep up with him.

The walk is short, filled with small talk that doesn’t feel forced or exhausting. It feels natural, the kind of ‘how are you?’ you get from a friend rather than a stranger. And you suppose he isn’t a stranger, you know just enough for him to be more than that.

Your hands brush between you, knuckles skimming against each other just once. A spark zipping up your arm, the same electricity traveling in his, too.

You ignore it (try to, at least), and before long, you’re at your first destination of the day. You stop walking, turning towards the awning of the store, “here we are.”

Steve stops with you, his eyes set on your face as you gesture towards the building. He looks away when you catch him, looking up at the sign hung above the door, a wave that fades into music notes, the words ‘Splash Records’ layered on top of that.

Now, it’s you who’s looking at his face, looking for a reaction. “It’s a gem, I swear.”

He turns to you again, his eyes, lighter in the sun, set on yours, “like I said, I trust you.”

“Okay,” you open the door for him this time, light blue paint flaking onto your hand when you twist the knob, “after you.”

Walking in, the record store is packed, but not in a way that feels stuffy. It’s full, music streaming through the store’s speakers, surrounding the space. There’s crates of records set on tables in the middle, shelves of them lining the walls.

Then, straight ahead from the door at the back, there’s the counter, the register sitting atop it, a record spinning behind it.

You wave to the boy standing there, “hey, Mason!”

Mason waves back, smiling at you, “hey! Need help finding anything?”

“We’re only browsing. Thanks, though.”

“No problem, cafe. You let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

The local workers in True Beach have developed this habit of calling each other by their jobs, hence why you’re ‘cafe.’ It’s silly, and you’re all well aware of everyone’s actual names, but it started and stuck ever since.

“Sure will, record store.”

Steve, for some reason, has this dull, punched-in-the-gut kind of feeling. He shouldn’t, he really, really shouldn't, but he does. Seeing the boy smile at you, seeing you share an inside joke.

And then, you’re wrapping a hand around his wrist so softly and leading him into the store and the ache is gone, replaced with this warmth. Warmth that blooms and grows into his chest.

“So, Steve, beach boy, what kind of music do you like?”

Just like that, the ache is forgotten.

“Take a guess,” he says.

You walk towards one of the crates at the front of a table, the letter A attached to the front. He follows, watches you flick through the records.

“Hmmm,” you stop and tug one out, facing Steve and holding up ABBA’s Arrival. “This one.”

“Come on!” He laughs, mostly because you’re right, and you seem to know it.

“You’re totally a ‘Dancing Queen’ kind of guy.”

He shrugs, a closed-mouth smile with mischief laced behind it, and turns to a different crate. And then, ever so softly, he starts humming the tune to ‘Dancing Queen.’

You smack his arm lightly, jaw dropped, soon spreading into a grin of victory. “I knew it!”

You continue on with your guesses, Steve following behind you with a sort of brightness in his eyes. He feels like you’re showing him more with each minute you spend together, your personality shining through with every smile or laugh he’s lucky enough to get from you.

The next album you pull is by Wham! and Steve huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m right again, aren’t I?”

“No comment.”

“I’m so good at this.”

By the end of it, you’ve added a-ha and Tears for Fears to the pile, and though Steve will end up buying every single one, he looks at the stack in your arms and sighs.

“Have you been stalking me?” He asks, because you’ve yet to be wrong with your selections.

“Yeah, right. You wish,” you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fumbling a little with the records in your hands. “I am just really, really skilled. Plus, you just give off the energy for it.”

“You aren’t making me seem very manly, you know?”

“Who said anything about manly?” Your eyes are kind, Steve thinks they sort of sparkle when you say, “good music is good music. Who cares what it says about you?”

He’d been joking, of course he had, because you’ve been right all along and he sort of stopped worrying about music taste when he started hanging out with Robin, who’s favorite genre is musical soundtracks, and Eddie, who never stopped liking what he did no matter what Hawkins thought of him.

And then, he thinks, Eddie would like you. Would like the way you spoke about music.

Steve’s not sure what to say, not sure how to thank you without sounding like a total idiot. But he doesn’t have to, because you speak before he can, like you’d known he needed you to. “Anyways, you ready for our next destination?”

“I’ll go wherever you go.” The words are soft, and they feel like so much more than simple when he says them. They aren’t more, you know that, but they sound like they could be. “You’re the tour guide.”

Steve buys the records, and with the bag in his hand, he follows you out the door and walks beside you—again, closest to the street—without question.

A couple of stops later (one being the sunglasses shop, where you and Steve handed each other pairs to try on, giggling behind hands, posing into the mirror of the other person’s lenses) you’re leading Steve into the diner on main. It’s classic, vinyl seating, checkered floors, the light blue of the shallow parts of the ocean serving as the pop of color in the place.

You grab a booth, Steve sliding in across from you. It’s by the window, a street of sandals smacking the ground, towels slung over shoulders, and beach bags covered in sand on the other side of it.

It doesn’t take long before a familiar face strolls up to your table, and you give her a little wave as she walks up, “hey, Vic! Busy today?”

“I’ve seen worse, cafe.” Her eyes flick over to Steve, her eyebrows raising when she looks at you again. “And who’s your friend?”

“This is Steve, he’s staying for the summer and roped me into being his tour guide.”

“Hey,” he says, an awkward, but always kind, smile on his face.

“Well, welcome to True Beach.” Vic pulls out her notepad and pen from her pocket. “What can I get you?”

You both order, and Steve listens to you chat with Vic some more, the interest you show in what she tells you, the way you pay attention to her story about a strange customer. He thinks about the way you’ve greeted every shop employee so far today by name, the way they all greet you with the same recognition.

He thinks about how nice it must be to be a part of something like that, a steady unit in a town that sees different faces constantly.

“Sorry about that,” you say to Steve after Vic walks away. “She likes to tell stories.”

“Don’t be. I was eavesdropping, anyway.”

You laugh, quick and sunny, and Steve soaks it up, letting it warm him up. He’s sort of captivated by you, the way you move, the things you say, the way he feels around you. It’s something totally new to him, no matter his history with girls. This is on its own, special and rare, he thinks. Or, maybe, he wishes.

“So, Steve…”

He fills in the blank. “Harrington.”

“Steve Harrington. What brings you to True Beach?”

“Ummm. Vacation?” Steve asks rather than says, because he really doesn’t have an answer. At least, not one that he thinks makes any sense. Self-discovery? Escape? Didn’t want to be the last of his friends stuck in Hawkins?

All of the above, maybe.

“No!” Your foot nudges his under the table. “I mean, like, really. What’s your story? What led you right here?”

Steve likes the way you say what you mean, how you don’t seem to be afraid to ask something more personal. The list of things he likes about you seems to keep growing.

“I grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. Small town, been there my whole life. I was sort of an ass in high school. Hanging around with the wrong people, you know?” He scratches at the hair at the base of his neck, nervous. Less so when he sees your gentle smile and nod. “Anyway, then I met better people. My best friend, Robin, this dork Eddie, and these kids that I care about a lot. Sort of became their babysitter—minus the pay—and, yeah.”

You notice the way he lightens up when he talks about these people, the whisper of a smile on his face as he does. It makes you smile, too, knowing that he has people like that. People that can ease him with a simple memory.

“My parents were never really around. Work trips all the time, stuff like that, but it forced me to learn a lot. I worked at this movie rental place for a few years, and then all my friends were moving on, going to school, taking control of their lives. I figured I’d do the same.”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Hm?”

“To move on. Take control of your life.”

“I guess so. I wanted to go somewhere. I’ve never ventured out-of-state until now. Saw the town on a map and that was it.”

“I think that’s really cool.” You reach across the table and squeeze Steve’s hand, his eyes flicking up from his lap when you do. “It takes a lot of bravery to come somewhere new, especially alone.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Steve’s quick to brush things off. He didn’t grow up being called things like brave, and though the expression on your face is clearly honest, it’s hard to accept a compliment. Doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t expand a little, though. Like an extra puff of air blown into a balloon.

“Don’t fight me on this, Steve Harrington.”

He’s not sure he could fight you on most things. He’d rather let you win.

“Alright, fine. What’s your story, then?”

“You sure you wanna hear it? It’s pretty boring.”

I want to know everything about you, Steve thinks. He won’t say it, though, won’t risk freaking you out when this has only just begun.

“You got mine. It’s only fair.”

It’s been a long time since you’ve met someone new, since you’ve had to do the whole getting to know each other thing. Usually, it’s awkward for you, the stress of good impressions. Now, with him, it’s easier for some reason. It feels like you’ve known him far longer than a few days. There’s a familiarity there.

“Okay, okay. My family moved here when I was like five, so it’s pretty much all I remember. We’ve lived in the same house since, blue shutters and chipped paint, but I love it. It’s home.”

You don’t feel very different from how you feel now when you think of home. Comfortable, at ease, like you’re not meant to be anywhere else.

Steve Harrington. You’re glad he chose True Beach.

“I started working at the cafe when I was sixteen, I think,” you continue. “Macy—that’s my boss, but she’s more like family—she gave me the job and I just never left. She wants me to take over one day.”

“Will you take over?”

“I love that place. I don’t really see myself anywhere else,” you shrug, hands fiddling with the napkin in front of you. It’s something not everyone approves of, like you’re wasting away there. “I know it’s not all that impressive.”

“Hey, if you love it, isn’t that what matters?” The toe of his shoe pushes yours gently, your eyes catching his. “Not everybody gets to say they love what they do. And you do. I think that’s impressive.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s great, honey.”

Steve lets the name slip, but when he sees the bashful smile on your face, the way you duck down a little, he can’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Honey.

If you didn’t have a crush already, you’re absolutely done for now.

-

Day by day, you and Steve grow closer, and you’re now far more comfortable calling each other a friend rather than a stranger.

You show him a little bit more of the town each day, and a little bit more of yourself, too. He does the same, and you’ve found that Steve is an easy person to talk to, to trust. It’s a friendship born over rented bicycles and hands-free riding down a hill, brunch at the cafe during your breaks, and Steve lending you his baseball cap when you forget your own.

It feels completely natural, like you’ve known him a lifetime rather than a week. It feels like something you didn’t know had been missing.

Steve doesn’t feel much different. There’s a little bit of guilt in him, because he’s never felt this way while in Hawkins; like he belonged. He loves his friends, and that had nothing to do with them, but it sat with him nonetheless. A weight on his chest.

The weight seems to be forgotten when he’s with you, when you’re smiling at him as you show him your home like you’re welcoming him, like he could stay. It’s when he’s alone that he thinks about what this could mean, what he should do.

Right now, though, he isn’t alone, so there’s no heaviness there.

You’re taking him to a ‘super great surprise location,’ as you’d called it, your sandals leaving patterns in the sand, the sun bouncing off your bare shoulders. Steve walks the slightest bit behind you, not far enough that you can’t talk to each other, but enough so that you’re definitely leading the way.

Steve’s honestly too distracted to pick up on where you’re headed. The curve of your spine, the way your hair seems to change color under the sun, the pattern of your strides. It isn’t until you tilt your head and point upwards that he catches on.

He lets his head fall back to match yours, looking up at the lighthouse that sits on a rocky part of the beach.

“The lighthouse?” He checks, “Isn’t that, like, against the rules?”

“Aw, Stevie, since when do you care about the rules?” That’s something you’ve been doing lately, calling him Stevie. He likes it more than he should. “Besides, I won’t let us get caught. Don’t you trust me?”

You’re facing him now, walking backwards, a smile full of mischief on your face. Steve can’t help but be honest, “yeah, I trust you.”

“Well then, let’s get climbing, Harrington.”

You don’t have to tell him again. Steve follows you without another question, like it’s really that simple. He follows you up and up the lighthouse until you’ve made it to the top, out on the metal balcony that overlooks the beach, the water.

You sit down, legs dangling over the edge, arms leaning on the bottom part of the railing. And though Steves not fearless by any means, he sits beside you, position mirroring yours.

“You bring all your tourists up here?” Steve teases, his knee brushing yours.

Vulnerability is scary, and you don’t usually share much about yourself with people, preferring to keep your cards close, but things are different with Steve. It’s scary and incredible all at once. He’s different.

So, you reply seriously, your voice quieter, “I’ve actually never brought anyone up here.”

Steve looks away from the view to look at you, your confession unexpected but welcomed. Like he’s thought since he’d met you, he really wants to know you. Every single thing.

“Really?” He asks, gently poking for more.

“Yeah,” you nod, your eyes focused on the way the waves look from up here, the shades of blue. It’s less scary to talk this way, without looking at Steve and his eyes that you just fall into.

“I always come up here alone,” you continue. “To think, mostly. Like, when things feel really big and awful, coming up here and seeing how small everything is helps. I kinda find comfort in the insignificance, you know? Nothing I do will ever really be that big of a deal, and that’s peaceful, I think. Does that make any sense?”

He finds he can’t look away from you right now, the sad—maybe even nervous—twist of your mouth, your hair messy from the wind. He wonders if he should tell you that he doesn’t think you’re insignificant at all. At least not to him.

“It does,” Steve says, blinking away from you and turning to look at the water, too. “I think that’s part of why I came here. It’s nice to be unknown, to not have to worry about every move I make because of how people will react. Things feel a little lighter.”

You nod, looking down at where your legs touch, your feet hanging over the edge of the balcony. You hadn’t meant to get so serious. Tour guides should be fun, right? So, you add, “the view’s nice, too.”

The sun’s setting now, the sky becoming a blend of pinks and oranges, the rays on your skin turning golden. Still, Steve finds himself looking at you again when he says, “yeah, it is.”

You turn your head at his tone, the gentleness of it. Your eyes find his, the brown almost bronze in the sun, the color melting and swirling and you can’t break eye contact. He’s reeled you in like nobody has before, like he’s been on the opposite end of a string that ties you together, and he’s the only one who could pull it.

“I’m really glad you picked True Beach.”

Steve’s gaze flicks to your mouth, then your eyes, and your mouth again. “I am, too, honey.”

Then, you’re closer to each other, your shoulders leaning together, the warmth of his arm pressed against your own.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, and neither is Steve, all you know is his nose nudges yours, and when you tilt your head in response, you’re kissing. First, a tender press of his lips on yours, and that’s all. But it isn’t enough.

Subconsciously, without a thought, you chase his mouth when he pulls away ever so slightly, and it’s all he needs before he’s kissing you again. Before he’s really kissing you.

Steve’s hand finds your cheek, gently tilting your face for him so he can kiss you the way he wants to. He’s not sure what he’d been thinking before this, all he knows is that this feels too good to stop, too good to be the wrong thing to do.

Your hand is hooked in the neckline of his shirt, knuckles brushing his bare skin beneath it, keeping him close. The other rests on the balcony between you, holding you up, letting you lean towards him.

You haven’t been kissed many times, but you know that for it to feel like this is a rare thing, something delicate that you won’t look into just yet. Right now, this is enough. The sparks that seem to fly around you, burning through you.

Even when you do pull away, nothing feels broken. No, Steve simply uses the hand on your cheek to guide your head to his shoulder, and it’s comfortable, your cheek squished against him, his hand grabbing yours from his collar and holding it in his lap.

You stay that way for what could be minutes or hours. As if you’ve been just like this hundreds of times before.

-

Steve offered—more like decided, really—to walk you home from the lighthouse, the sun sinking lower and lower with every step. You took the long way, sand beneath your feet, breeze growing cooler against your cheeks.

Neither of you have said anything about the kiss, and you haven’t felt the need to. If anything, it feels natural, like this pink haze brought on by the kiss is meant to be there; there’s nothing to be said.

Maybe that’ll change tomorrow, but it’s today and that’s what matters.

At some point during the walk, after knuckles brushing and sparks fizzling between them, Steve had wrapped his pinky around yours, which then turned into holding hands, fingers intertwined, palms pressed together. The warmth of it spread up your arm, a tide rising up and up and up.

It’s dark by the time your house comes into view, weathered paint and blue accents, the porch light glowing warmly in the night. That’s another thing about True Beach: porch lights stay on.

You stop at the end of your driveway, swinging your hands between you. “This is me.”

“Well,” Steve’s fingers flex in yours, his thumb running over your knuckles just once. “Thanks for showing me your spot, honey.”

You look down at your hands, smiling at the way he says it. Honey. Like you’re as sweet as the real thing, like he really believes that.

“Thanks for trusting me to take you there.”

“It was a good one. How you gonna top it next time?”

“I don’t like to reveal my secrets. You know, like a magician.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gives your hand a squeeze, eyes finding yours, something written behind them that you can’t pick out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, magic tour guide.”

“See you, Steve.”

You’d spoken the entire walk back to yours, but it feels different now. Thicker. The way it did at the top of the lighthouse just before you’d kissed. You squeeze Steve’s hand back before turning to walk up your driveway.

Steve holds onto your hand until he can’t anymore, his arm stretched out ahead of him, yours behind you, only dropping when you’re out of reach. It’s something that has your hearts beating in tandem, like they miss the contact.

When you get onto your porch, the doorknob in your hand, you turn back and wave to Steve again, who lets a smile spread across his face as he waves back. Once inside, you lean against your closed door, head falling back against the wood.

What the hell are you gonna do when summer’s over and he has to go home?

Steve’s thoughts aren’t much different, because somehow, you’ve made this place feel more like home than Hawkins has in a long time. He’s not always worried about things—though he still worries more than he should—and it’s gotta mean something.

He kicks a pebble the whole walk back to the condo, dragging his feet and hoping that walking slower will make his mind move quicker.

It doesn’t really work, and once he’s back in his place for the summer, he figures that he should

probably call the only person who’ll know just what to say to him (with the addition of some jabs).

He grabs the phone from the wall in the living room and dials Robin’s number.

“Hello hello?”

Steve relaxes a little at the sound of her voice, because she’s his best friend in the entire world and he misses her. A lot. Where Hawkins felt heavy, Robin was the one to make things better, but with her and the group away, the weight got to him.

“Hey, Rob.”

“Steven! How’s your trip going?”

“I told you not to call me Steven.”

He actually doesn’t mind it that much, because it’s something only Robin calls him, and as silly as it is, he won’t really stop her.

“Don’t care. Tell me about your summer. Where are you staying again?”

“It’s called True Beach.”

“And?”

Steve can picture Robin waving her hand in the air as she says it.

“It’s actually really nice,” he says. “The beach is beautiful and the weather’s great and there’s a bunch of cute shops on the main street. I met this girl in the cafe and she’s been showing me around.”

“Oh, really? A girl?” She’s probably wiggling her eyebrows now, Steve thinks.

“It’s only friendly, Rob.” He opts out of telling her about the kiss just yet. Maybe because he knows what she’ll say, something about him

having feelings for you. And maybe Robin would be right about that. “But it’s been really fun so far. Went to the record store, this diner, the lighthouse. I got you some presents.”

“Aw, Steven! You shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t act like you don’t want the presents, Buckley.”

“Whatever, Harrington. Have you been taking pictures? And who’s this girl! You can't just gloss over that, dingus.”

“I have some, but my skills don’t really match up to Jonathan’s.” Steve leans his shoulder against the wall where he stands, twisting the phone cord around. “And she’s great, seriously. We’re friends, okay? You’d like her.”

And Steve believes that, because ever since meeting Robin and finding the sort of once in a lifetime friendship with her, he can only see himself around people that she’d like, too.

“I bet I would, Steven.”

“Anyways, how are you? What’s been going on?”

As Robin updates Steve on things—her crush that she’s never spoken to before, what Eddie said he was working on when she spoke to him last, what she had for breakfast—he listens, letting himself get distracted from his thoughts of you.

Not that the thoughts are bad in any way, but they’re confusing, they’re something he hadn’t been prepared for when he’d decided to take this trip. He finds that even though he spends a lot of his days with you, he’s still thinking about you once he’s alone.

Steve’s not quite sure how to face that, but for now, he won’t. He’ll listen to Robin, talk to her until they’re both too tired to continue. He’ll enjoy having you as his tour guide and his friend.

Whatever else you could become, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he doesn’t want you to be a stranger again.

-

Tomorrow has come and you haven’t been able to get Steve out of your head.

First it was the stuff that had you shoving your face into your pillow last night. The way his hand felt on your cheek when he kissed you, the way it felt in yours when he walked you home, the way he held on as long as he could when you parted ways.

Now, it’s the kind of what-ifs that have you worrying about what will happen when you see him again today. Will he act like nothing happened, will he want to talk about it, will he hold your hand again?

You’re excited to see him, it’s hard not to be when you like him so much, but you’re nervous, too. Probably for the same reason.

All you can do is go about your shift and hope that it distracts you enough to ease the small twist in your gut, the unknowns eating at you just a bit. If Macy notices something’s bothering you (which she does) she doesn’t say anything, opting to let you ride it out because when Macy believes something’s right, it usually is.

She feels that way about you and Steve.

Steve, who’s been tossing around in his bed all morning trying to sleep in and avoid thinking too hard. So far, no luck. Instead, he’s been wondering how to go about today with you. Because what he wants is something he’s afraid is too far out of reach, something he’s scared of, and he doesn’t know if it even remotely lines up with what you want.

Eventually, it gets too late for him to keep twisting himself up in the sheets, so he gets up and gets himself ready. Steve chooses not to drink coffee this morning, feeling jittery enough as it is.

His walk to the cafe is different today, because even though he’s still excited as ever to spend time with you, there’s a little weight in his chest that makes him nervous. He decides to walk quickly, whether it’s because he’s eager to see you or to get whatever will happen over with, he’s not so sure.

He doesn’t want you to be a stranger again.

Eventually, with a big breath in, Steve tugs the cafe door open. He sees Macy before he sees you, knowing it’s her because of the name tag.

“Hi there,” she says, her smile crinkling her eyes a little. “Steve, right?”

He’s surprised that she knows his name. And then, the idea hits him like a small punch, his mind getting hopeful with it; you must’ve talked to her about him. You care enough to talk about him with Macy, who you’d said is like family to you.

“Yeah,” he says, walking the rest of the shirt way to the counter where she stands. “And you’re Macy?”

“That’s me!” She seems to notice the way Steve’s eyes search the small cafe, and she smiles as she speaks, “she’s in the back. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

It’s not even a minute later that you’re walking out from the back and towards Steve, tote bag slung over your shoulder, sunglasses on top of your head.

“My guide,” he says as you meet him by the counter. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” You fish your car keys from your bag, and they jingle in your hand when you find them. “Ready to go?”

“Sure am.”

As you and Steve head towards the door you hear Macy call, “bye, sweetie! Have fun!”

You turn to face her and send her a wave. In return, you get a wink and an eyebrow raise and you just shake your head. She might be onto something, though.

Soon enough you’re in your car, Steve in the passenger seat, driving out to the lookout because it’s usually quiet this time of day and you want him to see it that way. The waves crashing onto sand below, the endless stretch of sky.

You chat as you drive, and you’ve found that you didn’t need to be so nervous, because he’s Steve and something about him makes everything seem easy, natural. You’ve fallen into the same spot you were yesterday on the walk home, this bubble of pink and sweet and more surrounding you.

Steve asks you about how your shift went, how busy things have been, what you had for breakfast. Simple things that draw you back into simply feeling the glow of being with him. It’s like he soaks up sunshine and spills it out, warm and bright.

When you turn your head to glance at him quickly, you’re stuck on the way the sun hits his face, the freckles that have appeared on his nose from his time spent at the beach. He looks like he belongs here, you think. A boy with summer written all over him.

And when you make it to the lookout, Steve reaches across the center console for your hand, and your fingers lace together just like they had last night. It feels like the softest click of puzzle pieces fitting together, right where they’re supposed to be.

Steve hadn’t been thinking when he did it. It was his hand reaching out on instinct because it wanted to, because it felt empty where it sat in his lap beforehand.

You keep talking for a bit, back and forth and back and forth and all you can think about is how maybe (definitely) this is more than a crush. That maybe you don’t ever want to see him go.

-

After the lookout you and Steve still have plenty of the day left. You can only look at a view for so long, really, so you decide to head to the beach, which you’ve yet to do, surprisingly.

It’s the main attraction of the town, so you figure you should include it on your tour, even if you know he’s already been. It’s where you met, after all.

You lead him to a spot further down the beach, where crowds dwindle and a line of rocks sort of secludes it from the rest. Of course, it’s not empty. It never is during summer, but it’s as calm as it can get.

A bathing suit is usually hidden under your clothes during the months of May through August, so, with your towels laid out, a cooler that you’d had in your car set in the sand, and bags tossed beside it, you slip your sundress over your head.

Steve watches you pull the fabric up, the hem getting higher and higher until your dress is gone and he’s trying not to stare too hard. Your skin glows with the sun, and he has to tug his own shirt over his head to pull his gaze away. Fabric pulled in front of his eyes to snap him out of it.

Your sunglasses sit on the bridge of your nose, your eyeline hopefully hidden because Steve’s there and you can’t exactly look away. Dusting of chest hair over sun kissed skin, freckles and moles a constellation you’d reach out and trace if you could.

Blinking away, you shift your sights to the ocean, the waves cresting, whitecaps sliding onto the shore. You breathe in the salt air, the breeze warm against your skin.

Soon enough you and Steve are both settled on your towels, light chatter from other groups mingling with the sounds of the waves.

“Boy from the beach,” you say, lulling your head to the side to look at him. “Funny seeing you here.”

“What a coincidence.” Steve likes that you’ve got this thing, something shared between just the two of you. “Girl from the beach.”

“How’re you liking your trip so far?”

“Well, I’ve got this great tour guide. She’s been showing me all the spots,” Steve leans back onto his hands, while you’re laid down fully, peering up at him through your sunglasses. “I think you might know her.”

You grin, butterflies in your stomach. Your hands rest over your tummy, like you’d be able to feel them floating in there. It’s just so easy with him, so natural. You feel like you were always meant to meet each other, it was just a matter of when.

“She sounds familiar,” you play along.

“Yeah. Super kind, works at a cafe, really pretty.”

Really pretty. He’d added it on like a fact, like to him, there’s no questioning that. Your fingertips push against your stomach a little, trying to shoo away the butterflies.

“Pretty, huh?”

Steve’s always thought so, and he didn’t even realize he’d said it until you repeated it back. He doesn’t regret it, though. Because he thinks it every time he looks at you. That you’re pretty.

“Yep. Ringing any bells?”

“I don’t know about that, Steve.”

“I do, honey.”

Your eyes flick between his, his eyes squinted because he’d forgotten his sunglasses, but all you find is that softness that seems to live in the brown of his iris.

He’s looking at your face, at the curve of your mouth and the slope of your nose. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the way he feels, the way he’s felt. He really fucking likes you.

You breathe in deep and turn your head to face the sky, nervous under his gaze, unsure of how to read things. He’s leaving at the end of summer, and you’ll be here. What if that’ll be all you ever see of him? His couple of months here, and then, the end.

The moment seems to pass, Steve changing the subject to something about a new music release he wondered if you’d listened to.

The feelings linger, though.

Worries shoved down and stomach flutters warded away (mostly), you and Steve talk like friends, which you’d take over strangers any day. It hasn’t been too long, but it’s been long enough that you know each other, that you can talk or be quiet and have it be comfortable.

Eventually, with sunbeams warming your skin and your early shift weighing on you, your eyes grow heavy and you're lulled to sleep by the sound of Steve's voice and the sea.

He’d been telling you a story, something about the first time he’d gone to see Eddie play at the Hideout and how surprised he’d been. When he’s done, he waits for a reply, only to be met with silence.

Peeking over at you, Steve notices your head rolled to the side, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths. As delicately as possible, he reaches over and lifts your sunglasses to find your eyes shut, and he realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

There’s a smile worming its way onto Steve’s face as he pushes your glasses back into place. A smile brought on by how cute he thinks you look right now, pout on your lips and hair messy from the wind.

A smile turning just a little bit lovesick because you feel comfortable enough with him to be asleep right now.

It’s only twenty minutes before you’re blinking your eyes open again, shifting and breathing in deep as you wake up. The breeze has died down, the heat having your forehead a little damp, your body uncomfortably warm.

“Morning, sleepy.”

You groan and turn towards Steve, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you before responding. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve been working and dragging me around every day. I’d be tired, too.” He’d pulled the cooler to serve as a backrest while you were asleep, you notice. “Good nap, though?”

“Yeah. Guess I needed it.”

You’re feeling warm, almost too warm, so you fan yourself with your hands. Steve notices. “You feel okay?”

“Just warm. Probably shouldn’t have slept in the sun.” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, which you’re sure is unappealing, but Steve only seems concerned for you, never judgemental.

He twists to open the cooler set behind him, digging out a can that’d been buried in the ice, condensation dripping from it as he lifts it out and shuts the cooler. Steve scooches himself closer to you on the sand.

“Here,” he uses his free hand to move your hair out of the way, pressing the can to the back of your neck with the other.

Your head tips backwards, the cold can pressed to your heated skin immediately cooling you down, easing your discomfort. Still, you feel warm inside—this time, in a good way—because Steves attentive and so, so sweet.

“Thank you, Stevie. That feels really nice. Maybe you should be a nurse.”

“If nursing equipment was a cooler, maybe,” he chuckles. “That feel better?”

“Mhm. Much.” You’re feeling plenty awake now. Plenty alive. “You know what would feel even better, though?”

“Tell me.”

“A swim.”

Then, you’re pushing yourself up from the ground, sand sticking to your palms, and running towards the water. Tossing the can aside, Steve’s quick to

follow, chasing your laugh, grains kicked up behind his heels.

You’re waist deep in the water by the time he catches up, water shifting around him, warmed by sun rays and refreshing all at once. You twist around to face him, walking yourself backwards into the water slowly, Steve following you the way he seems to do.

He thinks he might go anywhere if you were leading the way.

Eventually, you stop, the water up to your chest now. Steve stands close, within reach, waves licking at his skin. You tilt your head at him, “hi.”

“Hi.” Steve runs his fingertips across the water, but his eyes are on you, how the sun is a halo of light behind you.

“Next on my tour: the ocean,” you hold your arms out, like you’re introducing the water to him. “What do you think?”

“Beats the lake back in Hawkins by a long shot.” Lover’s Lake is fun, but it’s nothing special. Mucky waters and grass rather than sand. But this, here, it feels special. “It’s great.”

“Yay! So, since it’s great, you won’t mind if I do this?”

You’re pushing water at him before he can respond, splashing him and giggling when he faces you, jaw dropped.

“You did not.”

“Figured you wouldn’t mind, since the water’s so nice and everything.” You shrug, “sooo much better than at home-”

You’re cut off by Steve’s retaliation. He’s gentler than you were with it, but you’re sprayed with water all the same and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Oh, you’re on, Stevie.”

And then, you’re splashing him, and trying to swim away, and he’s chasing you and splashing you back, a mess of laughs and taunts, a play fight that’s free and fun and you don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this way.

It’s not long before Steve catches you, though, long limbs pushing him through the waves until his arms are wrapping themselves around your waist to tug you back to him.

“Gotcha,” he says, his head bent to speak into your ear.

You’re not laughing anymore, your heartbeat picking up in your chest, Steve’s arms seeping warmth into your skin and your stomach. You spin in his grip to face him, but his arms don’t move. “How’re you so fast?”

“I was co-captain of the swim team. We even won trophies and shit.”

“That was an unfair advantage.”

Steve’s hands spread wide, palms on your waist, thumbs dragging over the skin above your bikini bottoms. He sees the way your chest moves with your breaths, quickened and heavy. He’s not playing anymore. Not since he’d gotten the feeling of your skin beneath his hands.

“So, what do I win?”

“A free tour guide?”

“I already have that, honey.”

It’s hit you how close he’s gotten, his nose so close to brushing against yours. It’s like it’d been at the lighthouse, a shift, breaths mingling between your faces, a pull.

“Okay,” you say. You’re not sure if you’d been responding to what he’d said or if you’re answering a question he hasn’t asked out loud.

His eyes search yours, and when you lift your chin for him, he can’t help himself. Steve kisses you for the second time, his fingers digging little indents into your skin, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

You don’t think you could even if you wanted to. Instead, your hands find his shoulders, and Steve groans so softly into your mouth. Just from your hands on him.

It grows quicker, a little more heated, your mouths moving, heads tilting, and somehow you end up with your legs around Steve’s waist, one of his arms holding you to him, the opposite hand splayed between your shoulder blades.

The current seems to move with you both, waves hitting your shoulders, dancing around you. They push your bodies closer.

Steve can’t believe he’s kissing you again, he can’t believe he’s got you wrapped around him and your lips on his and that it’s real. That it feels so much like a wave rolling over and crashing, breaking something down, creating room for something more.

He forgets that you’re in public, that there are people around—though, not too many, thanks to the spot you’d chosen—and that time doesn’t simply stop when he kisses you. Because it sort of feels like it does.

The world goes quiet, and all he feels is you, you, you.

This time, when you pull away, after however long has passed, your hands slide from his shoulders down to his arms. You smile at him, almost bashful in a way, a tease still lingering behind it, “was that an okay prize?”

Steve’s got no idea how he’ll go back to Hawkins after this.

-

It’s been hours since Steve got back to the condo, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun set, and Steve walked you home, and he held your hand just like he did after the lighthouse.

And again, he finds himself reaching for the phone and dialing Robin’s number.

“Robin speaking,” her voice sounds after a couple rings.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“Steven! Hi! How’s it going over in beach land?”

He doesn’t even bother with the use of ‘Steven,’ because he’s just relieved to hear her voice, to know that he’ll always have her, to talk to his best friend.

“Yeah, it’s good.” He leans his shoulder against the wall, his free hand scratching lightly at his arm. “Really good. How are you?”

“You worried about me?”

“Rob.” I always worry, is what he means to say. Of course, Robin knows him well enough to know exactly what he means without having to say it.

“I’m good, Steve. Seriously! Except Keith keeps calling me to pick up shifts at Family Video and I don’t even work there anymore!” She huffs, and Steve laughs. “Don’t giggle, dingus. This is a serious problem.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get bored eventually,” he says. “Why do you think Keith has had like five jobs in the last three years?”

“Whatever. Tell me about what you’ve been up to. Oh! How’s the girl?”

If she were here right now, Steve thinks Robin would be shaking his shoulders, demanding every detail. He’d held off on talking about you fully last time, but now, he needs advice and though Robin technically doesn’t have any experience to help him, she’s the only one he wants to tell right now.

“She’s incredible, Rob. I really like her, think you would, too.”

“Mhm, what happened to ‘it’s just friendly,’ huh?”

“We kissed. Twice, actually.”

“What! Steven, you can’t just drop that on me. What happened? Oh my gosh, is she your girlfriend?”

“Slow down. I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks, okay?” Robin makes a noise on the other end, and Steve can practically see the face she’s making. Something that says ‘whatever.’ “You know the last time I called you? We actually kissed that day, at the lighthouse.”

She gasps, “and you’re only telling me now?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Ugh, just keep talking.”

He shakes his head. Steve doesn’t really know how to put everything into words. How he feels, the way things happened. He tries anyway.

“Then today. We hung out at the beach, and we went for a swim, and we were playing around and then we were kissing. I don’t know. I like her a lot and I’m not really sure what to do. Or how she feels.”

“Okay. Okay, tell me about her. About the beach, too.”

“She’s really nice. Like, she says ‘hi’ to everyone when we go places, and she’s been showing me around after she works all morning.” Steve doesn’t realize that there’s a smile spreading over his face the more he talks about you. “It’s just so easy with her. It feels like I’ve known her for years with how we talk and everything. I don’t know. It sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid, Steve,” Robin’s voice is a little softer, like she wants him to know she means that. “And the beach?”

“It’s so great here. I like the atmosphere, the smell of the ocean in the air all the time and the people and even the condo is nice.”

“Can I say something that might scare you?”

“You’ll say it anyways, won’t you?”

“I will. Here it is: you sound really happy there, Steve. Like, happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

His stomach twists, almost guilty that he could be so happy someplace where he’d started fresh. Like he’s betraying Hawkins and all of the good that he’d found there, even when so much was bad.

“I really miss you, Rob. I miss everyone.”

“I miss you, too, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be happier where you are.”

Her words sort of punch him in the chest, air sucked from his lungs, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. Because when he thinks about it, like really thinks about it, Steve is happy here. Happy is a big thing.

“When did you become so wise, Buckley?”

“I’ve always been wise, Harrington.”

His head falls against the wall with a small thump, his thoughts weighing him down a little. Steve really likes it here, and he really likes you, and he misses his best friend. He’s not sure where to go from here.

“What am I gonna do?” Steve’s quiet, but Robin hears him.

“You’re gonna do what’ll make you happy, Steve. For once in your life, be selfish, do something for yourself, not anyone else.” Robin knows Steve better than anybody knows him, and she knows why this is hard for him. “You know I’ll always be here. It doesn’t matter where you are. Besides, True Beach isn’t so far. I’ll visit and annoy the shit out of you. Plus, I need to meet this girl. She’s clearly a good one, if she’s got you like this.”

Because she knows him the best, Robin already knows that what he should do is stay. Stay where he sounds happier than ever, unrestrained in a way he never could be in Hawkins. Stay with you, who’s brought it out of him.

“Love you, Rob.”

“I know. Love you, too, dingus.”

Steve’s eyes are stinging, though he’s not really sure why. Maybe he’s overwhelmed with how quickly things can change, sad that this feels a little bit like a goodbye even though he knows it isn’t, maybe even relieved that Robin’s supportive of him no matter what. Maybe it’s everything all at once.

“What about the presents I got you?” He asks.

“Well, Steven, there’s this thing called postal service, where you can put things in the mail.”

Steve laughs welty, eyes misty, grateful for how easily Robin manages to brighten the mood. For the rest of the conversation, he feels a little lighter.

Now he’s just got to tell you how he feels.

-

It’s crazy how people can take root into your life, plant themselves there and grow like ivy spreading wide over a house until there’s more green than brick.

Steve Harrington proved that when he’d shown up in True Beach mere weeks ago and dug a spot for himself in your life, in your heart. He came barreling in, a stream of sunlight sneaking through a gap in curtains, and you’ve chased the warmth, basked in it as much as you could.

In so little time, Steve’s become one of your absolute favorite people in the world. A stranger to a friend to something toeing the line of so much more. You’ve kissed twice, and it’s been enough to tell you that your feelings are undeniable. They’ve taken root just as he has, buried deep.

With those feelings, though, has come the painful realization that he’s leaving soon.

Last night, after your kiss, you hadn’t been thinking about what would happen next or what it could mean. No, you were blinded by the day of sunlight that is Steve. You’d forgotten that sooner or later, the sun has to set.

Now, it’s your day off and instead of sleeping in, you’ve found yourself overthinking at the lighthouse.

You’re worried about what will happen when Steve goes home, whether you’ll keep in touch, whether he’ll forget about you, if he’ll ever come back. On top of that, you’re worried about your feelings, how strong they’ve grown in a short time, if he, by any chance, feels the same.

Sat on the balcony, chin resting on your bent knees, staring out at the morning sky, all you do is think.

Steve’s conversation with Robin last night was the push that he needed, the reassurance that he can do this and have everything be okay, that he’s allowed to make this decision for himself. That doesn’t make it any less scary, though.

He decides that he has to tell you as soon as he can, while he’s got the momentum to do it.

It’s still early when he heads to the cafe in hopes of finding you, and while the place is open, there’s nobody inside when he walks in. Well, nobody except Macy.

“Hi there, Steve,” she says, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hi, Macy,” Steve then says your name, and Macy’s smile shifts to knowing and fond. “Is she here?”

“She’s not in today, dear. But I have a good idea of where you’ll find her if she isn’t home.”

“I do, too.” The lighthouse. “Thanks, Macy.”

“And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you two.”

Macy speaks like she already knows how this will turn out. For the sake of optimism, Steve chooses to nod in thanks and head out. Macy seems like someone who’s right more often than wrong, and he hopes that it works for him this time.

He heads to the lighthouse right away, because he remembers what you’d said about being up there, how it helped you put things into perspective. Plus, he’s got a feeling. That pull to you guiding him.

While Steve feels good about his decision, hopeful, even, he’s still afraid. You might think this is all too soon, too fast. Worse, you might not even feel the same at all. But then, what if the worst doesn’t happen? What if you want him, too?

Those what ifs are enough to take the chance, he thinks.

Steve finds you at the top of the lighthouse, chin propped on your knees, arms wrapped around your bent legs. “Hey, honey. Want some company?”

You lift your head at the sound of his voice, turning to find him standing in the doorway to the balcony with his hands tucked into his pockets, his hair messy from the wind, eyes still a little puffy from sleep. He really is pretty, and you wouldn’t dream of denying his company. Not even when he’s part of your worries.

“Hi, Steve. Yeah, sure.”

He takes the few steps over to you, crouching to sit next to you, his shoulder touching yours.

“I went to the cafe to find you,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Then, you weren’t there, so I figured this would be a good place to look.” He nudges you lightly, “and I found you.”

“You did.”

“I wanted to tell you something, if that’s okay?”

If that’s okay, like you’d ever deny him.

“‘Course it is.”

“Okay,” he takes a big breath, because Steve knows there’s no going back after this. He’ll say it and he won’t take it back. “I really fucking like you. I thought we could be friends after we kissed the first time, like a blip, you know? And if you just wanna be friends, that’s okay. I want you in my life, however that looks. But I’d like you to be more than that ‘cause I have pretty big feelings for you.”

Your chest rises and falls quicker, his words making your heart pump faster, because he wants what you want and he’s telling that to you and it feels so good. Too good.

“Really?”

You turn your head towards him, finding him already facing you, your eyes locking like magnets. He’s smiling so softly at you, nerves and sincerity, patience and fondness. You want to kiss him all over again.

“Cross my heart, honey.”

“I really fucking like you, too, Stevie.”

And just like that Steve knows this was the right call, that you’re the right call, because there’s a sweet, closed-mouthed smile on your face that he put there and it’s all he could ever ask for.

He dips forward to kiss you, once, twice, three times. Small pecks before pulling back.

“What’s gonna happen when you leave?” You ask, worrying out loud, eyes searching his.

“About that,” Steve reaches for your hand, weaving your fingers together and giving it a squeeze. “I love it here. A lot. I feel like I could really belong here, and I have this pretty tour guide to thank for that… Um, I was thinking I’d extend my stay.”

You squeeze his hand back, fluttering in your stomach at the relief of him wanting to stay, at the thought that you’d had a part in that.

You think he could really belong here, too. He’s meant for summer and sand and the sun. Meant for lighthouse sunsets and every season by the ocean. He’s summer in a boy.

“Yeah? For how long?”

“However long you’ll have me.”

Steve wonders if now’s a good time to tell you that he’s fallen in love with more than just True Beach.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

thank u so so much for reading!!! if u enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/reblog and letting me know what you thought! it helps and means so much <3

[wolfofcelestia]

ENG localization headcanons:

Sylus

Bougie-ass bitch from New York. The only East Coaster in the bunch.

Fits in with his accent (not entirely but you know) and the fact that he runs an underground criminal gang. All the expensive brand names are there and the fashion shows he always mentions would definitely be easy to find. Also close to the ocean, where he can go night fishing and in the winter, it's cold enough that he can also go ice fishing locally

Rafayel

100000% Cali bro. You can't tell me this guy doesn't surf. His laid back, playful way of speaking goes with the chill vibes of the California beaches

Xavier

Sorry Americans, I'm claiming him as Canadian. Specifically pinning him as a British Columbian to keep him on the West Coast. Canadians have a stereotype where they're seen as nice, polite, and unassuming, just like Xavier. He speaks in a soft voice but that doesn't mean he's a pushover

Zayne

A Seattle boy with coffee and the cold, pacific northwest rain running through his veins. It might be hard to get close to him, but bring an umbrella and weather the storm, and you might find comfort in the rain

[thedevilrisen]

Pain

"You do this once a month?!"

"Novs, I don't want too but I can't let you stay at home today." Sid had whispered to his daughter who was bundled into a mountain of blankets, on the couch. "You're going to have to come to the rink with me beautiful."

"Dad, I really fucking hurt." Nova had shot back in response, her voice wavering.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I have to bring you though." Sid had sighed, rubbing a hand down gently down Nova's side, through the blanket. "What can we do to optimise the situation? What do you need to bring with you, what do you need Uncle Kris or Geno to get for you?"

"Some dark chocolate, strawberry creams and chai." Nova mumbled, "on almond."

"I get one of them to drop by the shops on the way through, yeah?" Sid continued his soothing rub, up and down her side. "You want to bring your blankets? Will you need any products with you?"

"Yeah, I've got some stuff upsta-" Nova started speaking but she was cut off.

"I'm making Kris get that stuff there, so we have some stuff at the rink in case you need it at the future." Sid had spoken, fishing his phone out of his pocket to send Kris a message.

"Thank's dad." Nova had mumbled, bringing her hand out to wrap around his. Something she does to express her gratitude, and had always done.

"You want me to carry you to the car?" Sid had offered.

"Could you?" Nova had asked, she started trying to wiggle out of her blanket.

"No, No. Stay there." Sid had stopped her, he bent down and grabbed Nova, blankets and all and walked out to the car. He opened the car door, placing the girl down, adjusting her blankets and and dragging her seat belt over and fastening it. "You comfy?"

"Yeah," Nova had mumbled "Can we get chai on the way?"

"How much chai do you need!" Sidney had exclaimed, laughing. "Yes, we can."

"Thanks Dad." Nova had smiled at him.

-

After Sidney had stopped by the local cafe, got some chai and his prefered coffee he drove them to the arena. Sidney looked over the center console,

"You want me to carry you in?"

"Yes please dad." Nova replied in between sips of her chai. Sid, exited the driver's side of the car. He unbuckled Nova and slid her into his arms, "Let's go! Kris told me he put the stuff in the common room. You happy to chill on the couch in there?"

"Yeah, I should be fine." Nova answered, "Can I put my show on the tv?"

"If you would like!" Sid had smiled down at her.

"Thank's Dad." Nova had mumbled into Sid's chest, as he walked along the halls to the common room. "I don't know if I would be so lucky with someone else."

"I'm lucky to have you, kid." Sid said.

Sidney carried his daughter the rest of the way down the halls into the teams common room, where most of them were lounging. Sid walked toward the couch.

"Can you boy's move please?" Sid had asked, Drew O'Connor and Jansen Harkins. They both complied and Sid dropped her down on the couch. Handing her the chocolate and lollies, leaning down and kissing her head. "You stay there, call me if you need anything alright. I will come and check on you regularly."

"Wait, why are you here Nova?" one of the boys asked.

"Pain." the girl grumbled in response. "You can't expect me to function."

"It can't be that bad!" Someone else exclaimed.

"You try some of this pain then tell me that." Nova shot back.

"Fine, we'll get one of those simulator thingys!" Erik Karlsson stated.

-

This is the prerequisite part to the pain simulator! I hope you like it!

[messycunt]

Need me more of that Hucow Malleus... and just Diasomnia in general, my favorite boys.

This was supposed to be short but woah boy, strap in because your dumb Hucow au (tone: affectionate) hooked me like a goddamn fish. I did not know I was horny for this. Some of it is requests, some personal headcannons/ideas/sacrificial offerings for your au.

Ummm, for the sake of recognizing me in the future, can I be assigned an anon emoji? IDK which one to pick, but if you're willing to select one based on my vibes, that's cool!

May I request how Mal and his handler's relationship kicked off? He isn't aggressive so I imagine his previous handlers felt intimidated or could just never find Malleus to perform handling duties! So Crowley just had to rotate through staff hoping to find a handler Mal is fond of. Or perhaps Mal chose his handler through a chance meeting...?

In the meantime, I imagine Lilia was a pseudo-handler for Mal but couldn't perform most of the duties due to their familial-platonic relationship. Handler duties seem really intimate.

(Speaking of that... Does the job come with a "you might get fucked by Hucows" disclaimer? Or is that JUST Crowley's farm? If humans and Hucows are equal, do the non-farm Hucows act mostly normal and the farm Hucows choose to lean into their more primal, horny side?)

Also not to be a simp but here's some more things my silly fangirl brain has thought up:

Imagine Malleus disappearing on his handler's days off because he's followed them home (with their permission, after pouting at them the whole day) and is enjoying a domestic weekend? Cooking home made meals for them, playfully doing a role-reversal where he is the "human's handler" which is mostly him insisting on doing chores, assisting with basic things like hair brushing, then being confused when he has to use technology to do things like "washing clothes" or "running the dish washer" or "turning on the radio." But altogether it's really wholesome because he wants to show his appreciation for his handler by doing for them what they do for him! Unfortunately, with how tall he is, a few holes do get poked into the cieling at your house.

Hucow Malleus who won't ever cross his handler's boundaries, but is very touch starved and needy, so he'll often make offers that involve physical touch and close proximity, then pout the rest of the day if you say no. Typically he just makes offers a little too soon. For example, after only a few weeks, offering to let his you stay in his personal quarters with him instead of the communal handler sleeping quarters. Lilia suggests he ask again after a few months. Malleus never stays sulking for long- how could he when his favorite handler is around? I imagine he has big regal looming eldrich entity energy but is very soft and gentle at the heart. He likes hearing about your life experiences, especially travel. Being a show cow means that Crowley tries to keep extremely close tabs on him when traveling for shows and Mal hardly gets to enjoy any of the local culture. He's pretty adamant on having you brought a long for business-related travel. That way, he's technically being supervised when he sneaks away with you to see the sights!

Hucow Lilia being so very fond of pranking his handler, whose care he barely needs. He'll playfully make care tasks difficult on purpose, but stops just before you can get frustrated or upset. If he accidentally crosses the line, sometimes he'll even finish the care task himself without help! Which shouldn't be physically possible in most cases, but he'll take his secrets to the grave.

Hucow Lilia who is a "retired" show bull (again, claiming he's "too old" for it) but can easily perform his old routines without breaking a sweat. If any of the young cows aspiring to be show bulls need, he's glad to train them! But his training is a little... unconventional and most young cows will pass on the offer. But it must be effective since he was- still is- Malleus's sole show mentor. I imagine Lilia mostly sticks around the farm because of his Diasomnia family and because he likes helping raise the calves. With supervision from Vil, who makes sure his parenting methods aren't too crazy and, more importantly, ensures he never cooks.

Imagine Silver being the easiest Hucow to handle for because hes just so chill and sleepy. If anything, the hardest part sometimes is waking him up long enough to get him to move to a different spot for Hucow care! He easily accepts his handler's assistance but also offers to help with tasks like carrying milk or fixing a fence. He is also very likely to fall asleep on their lap for hours and make their legs go numb. The best part about being his handler is definitely that he'll let you pet and stroke his pelt pretty much the second you become his handler. He's very duty-bound and, as such, trusts you implicitly to do yours.

Unlike Silver, Hucow Sebek is very unwilling to rely on his handler. Lilia has had to scold him many times on letting you do their job. Sebek tries to relent, but he will still complain, especially if it's a new care task or routine. To him it's a matter of pride and proving he doesn't have to depend on others. Especially since he's fond of you- he can't let himself look WEAK by relying on you, right? But if you twist your words just a bit- say that he's helping you by letting you do something or need him to remind you how it's done- he's suddenly eager to show you. He'll preen under your praise and, if you want to make him really happy, ask him to do little things for you, like reaching something on a tall shelf or asking for his advice on a personal matter... he'll absolutely glow with pride knowing you value him. Also, Hucow Sebek eventually gets to a point where he'll WEEP when you're gone the same way he does when Malleus is away for a show and he can't come with.

Now, after brainrotting a bit, I have two more requests and they are HORNY...

My first request is some size kink shit with Hucow Malleus and his handler. I'm LIVING for the idea of getting split in half by his literal prize cock with him cooing praise over his tiny little handler being able to take it. Big soft Dom vibes, even when he's being rough, just so much love in his giant dragon Hucow body.

My second request is Sebek getting blue balls and his handler insisting on "relieving" him because he's trying to power through it until it "dies down" or some dumb shit. But once he relents, he's DONE for. Nearly begging to breed his handler, pressing them up against a wall or some shit, kind of "dom but tsundere" vibes? 100% consensual and instigated by the handler tho.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!!!!

I'm happy my insanity is what turned you to the hybrid kink side n I love all of your ideas please do stick around

uhmmmm how does milk(🥛) anon sound?

cw: hybrids(hucows), breeding kink, begging, dacryphilia(jus overwhelmed tears I think its cute), not proofread so sorry if it's all nonsense characters: malleus, lilia, silver, sebek

malleus is far from violent and doesn't have a reputation as such, he doesn't even playfully nip or headbutt like kalim and ace sometimes do, but his strength and stature are probably what scared some of his handlers off in the past if they weren't frustrated by how much he loves to disappear the hour before shows that is.

I imagine you being some intern handling some other cow that malleus just gravitates towards for one reason or another. when track is lost of him he's found in your general area or waiting somewhere he'll know you'll be soon(yes he subconsciously memorized your schedule) but you didn't seem to mind. this is great from crowleys perspective though, it's an obvious and easy fix, by making you malleus' handler he doesn't have to worry about switching them out every month… or paying both fees for fairs that he never ended up attending.

♡

trying to find a way to say this that isn't crude but well when am I not; fucking the hucow you're in charge of handling isn't part of the job technically but isn't frowned at too much either, not on crowleys farm anyway tho i wouldn't put it past the old bird to have made separate agreements w handlers that do require them to tend to their bulls more intimate needs, with a -barelynoticeable- pay increase of course. other establishments do have regulations in place to prevent it, seeing it as unprofessional at worst. it works on "a you break it you buy it" type of policy so you wouldn't wanna be the guy who knocks up a prize heifer who's starting bid is 70k.

♡

lilia makes for a fun cow to handle if anything, uh granted you're not brand new to working on the farm that is, alot of his ways of teasing newbies is borderline hazing, outside of that he's like a fun grandpa. he is banned from the industrial kitchen tho the closest he's allowed to get to cooking is supervised potato peeling duty if jamil has anything to say about it. I also imagine lilia being cuddly once he gets comfortable enough with you! lots of hugs, cheek kisses and headpats(he likes giving and receiving them) happen between the two of you.

♡

silver takes his responsibilities very seriously and would do well w a handler who's equally task minded but not to the point theyll outright refuse his assistance, though a little downtime never hurt anybody… I mean you told crowley you'd probably have silver milked by noon so it's not like you promised or anything, plus he looks cute resting so peacefully.

♡

now if anyone needs a reminder to relax every once in a while it's sebek. but once you catch onto the fact that he's just a little bit, maybe kinda sorta trying to be a show off cus he has a itty-bitty tiny crush on you(even if lilia had to point it out for you) it makes the job so much easier. yells your name and trots up to you so excitedly during morning role call every. single. day. his body language is super easy to read even if he's trying his best to act aloof about how he feels, especially early on, the way his tail swishes around wildly when you pat his arms while giving him compliments always give him away.

hucow sebek is one prideful n stubborn animal, even in rut. you offered to help him the first few days of it and why wouldn't you? I mean it's not in your job description, probably but you don't mind helping the poor thing out. he refuses the first 2, 3 and then 4 times so you decide not to push him. something about how malleus wouldn't stoop down so low as to take a cheap shortcut offer(he would) such as the one you've presented him with, even tho he does really want to he didn't verbalize that last part ofc.

when he does finally fold he's desperate and sweaty and mumbling nonsense about how you were right and he's sorry and he doesn't deserve you and you are also both very much behind the practice showroom out in the open. you can feel tears and sweat drench the back of your shirt. sebeks large hands are gripping at your hips and tummy like his life depends on it. his thrusts are sloppy and inexperienced but they work to fuel the fire growing inside of you nonetheless.

he hasn't stopped talking the whole time either. he's loud like always but it's what he's saying that's surprising to you. begging you go let him cum in you over and over until neither of you have any strength left and promises to be the best father he could possibly be if you do end up taking his calf. it's just his rut talking, you think, it has to be. not that you'd mind

♡

by the time sebek gives you a break hours have already passed and he slips his dick out of you still some what hard. he insists on carrying you back to his quarters, with intentions of continuing there obviously.

whoever was practicing for next weeks show that afternoon sure did get an earful

i did get a few other asks about hucow malleus n his breeding kink if you're reading this and you sent one of them I didn't forget you ok kiss kiss, so ill keep this ask in mind when answering those <3

[clockwork-ashes]

Day 5 - War | Adventure

Note: for day 5 of @erisweekofficial <3 this is my last gen eris fic for this week, but i have loved writing him and lucien!!! also a HUGE thank you to the lovely @speakingintothesilence for the writing prompt!!! i hope you like it <3

Summary: Eris takes Lucien with him on an adventure into the Autumn Court woods, expecting the trip to brighten his brother’s mood (one-shot). Read also on Ao3 <3

The fire flickered, dancing as it switched from a deep orange to a bright yellow, only to return to a more muted colour once more. Embers flared off the logs, looking like shooting stars in the darkness of the cave. 

Every time Lucien moved, Eris noticed that his shadow transformed into a menacing creature on the stone walls. It seemed as though his hands had claws, his back hunched like a predator ready to pounce. 

Perhaps it was because Lucien was sitting in a way that had him curled in on himself, Eris thought. His youngest brother’s legs were bent up towards his chest and he was resting his elbows on his knees. The small knife in his hand was sharp, the pointed tip easily cutting into the thick piece of wood in his hands.

Eris and Lucien had spent the entire morning hiking through the forest, searching for one of the many dangerous beasts that prowled the territory and tormented the local towns and cities. Eris could admit that it was difficult to hunt effectively with a child, but he had never minded the company. At a decade and a half, Lucien still seemed little to him, despite the young male’s consistently growing list of responsibilities. 

An adventure in the woods.  

Lucien had grumbled the words sarcastically as they had left the Forest House, weapons in hand. Eris had cast him a questioning look that had been ignored, and he had never been one to push his brothers to share their emotions. 

When the morning had passed almost entirely in a fraught silence, none of them speaking, Eris had suggested they stop near the caves so they could find something to eat. 

The fish Eris had easily caught were wrapped in leaves and thrown over the fire as he considered what might be making Lucien so miserable. 

They used to come to the caves close to Winter’s border often when Lucien was a boy. It was the perfect place to escape to when the Forest House became too much, and the crowd of nobles in the capital became too suffocating. No one bothered them, and it was easy to forget the fast paced and ruthless rhythms of court life. 

Eris had not taken Lucien to the caves with him in over a year, and it had been months since they had even seen each other. Beron liked pushing his oldest sons across the territory to handle power independently. Eris had been responsible for the large piece of land that bordered Spring for centuries, and with the Hybern general constantly attempting to strike an alliance with the courts of Prythian, Eris had been busy.  

In the time since he had last seen Lucien, the boy seemed to have grown significantly. He was much taller now, his frame much too large and lanky as his muscles struggled to keep up with the change in height. He was letting his hair grow out, the dark strands tied back neatly in a loose braid. His bright russet eyes still seemed a bit too big for his face, giving him the impression of innocence. 

It was almost startling to see Lucien’s almost always smiling lips pulled down in a frustrated frown. Even Pyrrhus, who wagged his tail and pressed his snout into the boy’s side was not enough to change his attitude. 

There was a mist of anger around Lucien. He had reluctantly agreed to come hunting when Callum had asked. His disappointment had been clear as river water when Callum told them he would not be joining, upon their father’s request. 

Eris sighed from where he sat, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck before he addressed Lucien. “What are you carving?” 

The question hung in the air for a moment. Lucien tossed the knife and the piece of wood to the ground where it knocked against the dry earth with a clatter. “Nothing,” he clipped. 

Eris looked at him with a raised brow. The silence stretched, awkward and uncomfortable. Fire was not the only thing between them. 

Lucien looked away first, an angry flush high on his cheekbones. The flames flared with a resounding crack, the pressure building until the logs had no choice but to snap in protest. 

Eris said nothing. He had learned from trial and error that it was usually best to let Lucien filter through his thoughts before engaging in an argument.

“It’s not fair,” Lucien said, his face red as the words fell in an angry hiss between his teeth. “You come and go and expect everything to be as it was when you left, it’s not.” 

Eris tensed at the words, wondering what he might have missed in his absence. Beron usually left Lucien alone, hardly engaging with the boy unless it was to chastise him. When he was younger, Eris had hoped that Lucien’s infectiously happy demeanour might affect the High Lord. Even their father was not immune to the natural charm and joy he brought into every room he entered. His hopes had been thoroughly crushed as Beron grew more harsh as time passed. 

“You’re never home anymore,” Lucien accused. The outburst breaking free like a wave against the shore, sudden and not entirely welcome, like he had been holding it in for a while. 

Eris tensed, taken aback by the statement. “So?” 

Lucien wiped a hand across his eyes roughly, and Eris realised belatedly that he was crying. “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, his voice strained. 

The guilt nearly choked Eris, he felt unwell, the full weight of what Lucien had said finally setting in. He clumsily and inelegantly moved along the ground so that he could be next to him. He had no idea what he was doing and wished that Callum was with them. He was close enough to Lucien that their knees were touching. 

His brother sniffled, looking in the other direction but not pulling away.  

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Eris winced at how rough his words were, almost as if they were an order rather than a question. 

Lucien shook his head, still unable to face Eris, but he leaned onto his eldest brother heavily. 

Eris decided that was good. 

“I’m not a daemati,” he said softly, trying his best to sound like Callum. There was no doubt in Eris’s mind that the third born Vanserra would have known what to do. Raised by their maternal grandmother in Xian during the war, he was the only one of them that Eris could describe as kind.

Beron was always irritated by it. 

Lucien shrugged, his shoulder shifting against Eris weakly. “It’s not important, not really,” he breathed out, no longer angry.

“Could you…maybe you can tell me first and then I’ll decide.” Eris nearly cringed at how awkward he sounded. He would have liked to have thrown himself into a river and simply sink like a stone to the bottom for eternity.

Eris was always surprised with how little convincing Lucien needed to open up about his feelings. He expressed with furrowed brows how Felix did not seem to like him, and how Ronan ignored him. Their other two brothers verged on treating him with cruelty, and Eris had to hold back a growl as he listened. Lucien explained how Callum was the only person in the Forest House who understood. “I like it better when you’re home,” Lucien continued. “Without you… I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t feel like I belong.” He looked up at Eris with wide russet eyes, nearly pleading with him to help him understand. 

“Listen to me,” Eris urged after he was sure Lucien was finished getting it all off his chest. “You’re one of us, for better or for worse.” With a gesture he had no idea he was capable of, Eris gently wiped at a stray tear on his youngest brother’s cheek. “So never change, Lucien, not for the likes of anyone.” 

Eris watched as he considered the words carefully, could practically see them spinning around his skull. Lucien finally smiled up at him, his eyes glowing gold for the briefest of moments before he held his shoulders back a bit more confidently. “Thanks, Eris.” 

Daylight. 

Eris ignored the small spark of foreign magic, choosing instead to playfully ruffle Lucien’s hair. He watched as the boy grinned, unguarded and no longer upset. While Eris was beyond praying to the Mother, he silently begged whatever higher power might be listening that the Autumn Court did not break his brother’s spirit. 

[dewracle]

Rituals and Bones

OC! Vessel X GN! Reader NSFW MDNI Quick reminder guys this is my version of Vessel and the boys, none of this is canon unless you're talking about MY (AruEternity's) LORE!

Tags: Smut, Vessel x reader, blood play, major character death, domestic violence, fucking in the woods, choking, ritualistic sex... if there's more please tell me

It was dark, but not the kind where it was difficult to see where you were going. No, it was the type where trees soared high and blocked most of the light struggling to filter through, making the atmosphere eerie, yet peaceful. The weather was perfect for your adventure of hiking through the woods. It allowed for it just to be warm enough that you didn’t freeze but just cool enough that you weren’t sweating too badly. 

You have never been in these woods before, hearing about them from a friend of a friend. She had said that there was a beautiful opening much deeper in the forest, where the trees parted and gave away to a small little pond. “The most peaceful place,” the girl had said as she gave you the directions.

Of course, it was a peaceful place once you had reached the big entrance to the circle. The trees gave way just like she had said, the birds chirped beautifully as the local deer stayed in the tree line. What you hadn’t expected was a man kneeling down in front of the pond.

He seemed to be wearing ritual-like clothing, almost as though you had interrupted a beautiful moment between him and some type of witchy moment of his. The man seemed to have a mask placed next to him as well, noticing the red and white flowers crawling up to the three sets of eyes staring up at the sky from where it lay. 

You accidentally step on a stick while trying to turn around to leave the male in his own peace. He quickly turned around, half expecting it to be a deer but instead, he is met with your curious eyes. Your body freezes as you put on your best smile, awkward as it may be you did your best to make sure the male understood you were no threat to him.

“H-hello?” You cringe at your timid voice, clearing your throat before trying again, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” 

The male shakes his head and moves to stand, subconsciously reaching for the mask before he stops, fingers seemingly itching to grab at the item. He brushes back his dark hair, the length reaching just above his shoulder. To you the man seemed beautiful, almost too perfect to say the least. 

He shakes his head and offers you to come over by waving his hand in front of him in an elegant manner. “No you’re okay don’t worry.” 

You sigh internally happy that the male wasn’t too upset with you. As you sit closer to take in the surroundings once again, the light darkening just softly, just enough so the grove wasn’t too hot and or sunshiny. 

“Again I’m sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing..” You trail off yet again as you got closer to the beautiful man. With a hand reaching out offering up a greeting, you spoke happily. 

“My name is,” He pauses to stop slightly, before smiling at you, flashing a handsome white smile, “Elliot.” 

He takes your hand in his and instead of shaking it, he leans down and places a gentle kiss on top of your hand. You blush slightly from the interaction, weirded out but also now even more curious about this strange gentleman in the woods. Elliot lets go of your hand and walks around the pond, looking into it as though he was looking at the most amazing thing in the world. Though you can agree it is beautiful, the lily pads that had grown cover the top hiding away the fish. The tall lush flower in the middle hold home to many tiny insects that almost cutely look at you as you step closer.

You sigh softly at the amazement of the tiny fish that dance around the pond. It really was a beautiful place just like your friend had said. The man looks up at you, catching your glaze in the process, he smiles softly yet again before he begins to speak of a weird god named Sleep. “You know it’s not often many people come here nowadays,” He pauses to add a dramatic effect like you would in a speech, “It seems almost everyone has forgotten about the lovely pond I use to worship.” 

You tilt your head in confusion but motion for him to continue his spill, almost creepily wanting to drink up everything the male says. “Its so peaceful here I can almost hear Sleep whispering to me, ‘Go do great my child.’” Elliot laughs softly and shakes his head, looking at you with so much peace and joy in his heart that you can’t help but feel the same. You sit your bags down, ignoring the soft rattle of all the bones you had picked up along the journey. You didn’t know who this “Sleep” was but the way Elliot seemed to talk about him made you feel as though he was safety and joy, calm and protection. 

“So Sleep talks to you how?” You ask while sitting down near the edge of the pond, watching as a fish swims curiously closer to you. It bobs its head as the male across the pond begins to speak with his praise. “Through my mind, the cards, my resting time, Sleep he is everywhere…” He preaches softly, looking at you to make sure you were paying attention. When he notices you staring at the fish in the pond the beautiful face turns sour, brows knitting together with a curl of his lip. He takes a quiet deep breath and replaces the face with a much more welcoming one before you could even notice.

You look up and smile softly at the other, eyes full of wonder as you question and listen. “So Sleep is a god? He’s all-powerful and knows everything?” 

At your question, Elliot’s face lights up and he smiles brightly showing off his beautiful fang-like k-9 teeth, something you had not caught before. It doesn’t bother you at all, in fact, you find yourself wanting to stare at him more and more.  

“Of course, my lo- My Sleep is a god! He is the greatest god we know of, except for you, my dear…” He purrs the last part, almost inhumanly, the way his words rolled off his tongue entices you to listen in. You hum softly in acknowledgment, listening further in as he details how great Sleep is. Slowly as he talks the sky begins to turn dark, the crickets now chirping their songs instead of the birds, the deer running off to find a safe place for the night. The trees going eerie with how dark it had gotten, their branches seemingly losing their leaves to the cloak of the night. The fog rolls in, covering your lap and Elliot’s feet, the hooting of an owl breaking the trance you both were in. “Oh, its night time…” You mumble and look at your phone, just now noticing you had no battery after it having been on the whole day.

Elliot looks down at you, noticing your slight worry, and smiles softly, the perfect timing. “Are you going to need help getting to a safe place my dear?” He asks softly, coming closer to you after picking up his mask and putting it on. You nod your head and begin to stand, brushing off the grass from the bottom of your pants. With a sigh, you grab your backpack full of your collection and sling it over your shoulder once again. “Definitely, I’ve never been here before..”

The male nods and waves for you to follow him, normally you would have not but after spending the whole day with the strange male, you felt oddly at ease and comfortable with following him. 

The two of you walk to a small cave that clearly has been used, a small burnt-out campfire with a small blanket laid on the ground. You look at it strangely but brush it off assuming since Elliot has been here before this must be his mess. 

“I’m sorry it's not much it’s just all I can find in quick notice,” He says softly, almost as though he was upset he couldn’t bring you to a better place

You shrug and sit down on the little blanket, brushing off any dirt that may have made its way onto you. With a sigh he sits down the opposite of you, looking at you up and down, taking in your features yet again. Elliot hums softly and works to start the fire again, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and sorting through the old but unburnt wood. His voice echoing through the small cave in a beautiful wave, filling you with yet again burst of energy and peace.

“So how does one worship Sleep… I want to know so I can.” You casually bring up while running and hand through your hair, watching as Elliot slowly looks up at you with curious bright eyes. He stops humming, those bright blue eyes turning to look into yours, his smile bright yet again as though he was prepared to hear the question come from your mouth. 

Different gods had always excited you, bringing a new wave of curiosity as you researched them. You had known almost all the gods that the average library and a quick but in-depth Google search would allow you, so learning about such a god that is worshipped so heavily by this man seemed perfect. 

Elliot looks at you with wonder and smiles happily, ready to launch himself into the detailed worship rituals for Sleep. “There’s many my dear, many such as chants in other tongues, sacrifices of bones that are harvested from your own kill, complex rituals, the list goes on. I can detail some of them for you if you’d like.” You shake your head no, understanding that this wouldn’t be as easy as you had originally thought. Believing that maybe it was as simple as taking a nap and reciting a few words beforehand seeing as the name of the god was Sleep after all. “Is there not any that we can do now?” You ask leaning closer to Elliot, getting lost in those eyes that held the blue Atlantic in them.

He chuckles lightly, a blush slowly forming from his neck up to his ears, he turns nervously looking around the cave taking in its beautiful details. He began mumbling softly, avoiding your question, not prepared to answer it truthfully. 

With a head tilt, you reach out to Elliot, gently touching at his knee trying to pull his attention back to you and your question. The male jumps at the touch causing you to pull your hand away from him, not wanting to cross any type of boundary there may be.  The dark-haired man sighs softly, clearing his throat before looking back at you, the blush now slowly fading. 

“Well, there is another way…” You nod urging for him to continue, “I can show you but I would need your consent to touch you first my dear.”

You thought for a second, allowing the words of the other to mix together to form a sentence. Elliot was talking about sex, a practice of worshipping through combining two bodies. This wasn’t abnormal for most gods, any believing sex and intercourse to be a high form of worship. In fact, you have done things that were more out there then something as simple as having sex with someone.

With a soft hum, you look Elliot in the eyes, smirking seductively as you whisper just loud enough he could hear you, ‘I give you my consent Elliot…” 

He clears his throat at hearing this, standing up to his full 6’2 height, towering over your sitting form. He crouches down closer to you, getting in your face, brushing his nose against yours. “Good pet…” He whispers softly before kissing you passionately, spreading your legs as you return the kiss with a soft moan at the intensity. He pushes your legs over his hips, gently guiding you to lay down flat against the blanket, his hips now flush with your own. 

He wraps his hand around your throat, lightly resting it there as he nips at your lip, drawing a gasp from you, allowing him access to your mouth. Elliot licks into your mouth before pulling away leaving a string of spit between the two of you. You whine softly reaching for him, pulling him down by the edges of his long jacket, kissing him again, drawing it out much longer. 

Your hips buck up against his as he slowly trails the kisses down from your lips to your neck, there he bites softly, bruising a hickey into your skin. Your face, warm as the blush travels upwards, a soft moan leaving your mouth as Elliot uses his mouth on your hip. 

“So good underneath me…” He whispers in your ear after leaning back, kisses it softly before moving back to pull at your shirt, looking at you for permission to continue. You give him a small nod, putting your arms up helping aid him in getting the offensive shirt off. He groans so lowly it can only be described as a growl at the sight of your skin, so smooth as ready for him to litter with marks of his own. 

Elliot takes off his jacket, necklaces still on hitting the smooth skin of his pecks and stomach, your mouth watering slightly at the sight now that you were truly able to look disrespectfully. Wanting to trace your tongue over the muscles of the other’s stomach, you lean forward, tracing your hand over his flexing stomach.

He flinches softly but groans lowly in the back of his throat, enjoying the touch of you to his skin. He grabs your hand and moves it closer to his semi-hard cock, sex twitching in your hand as your own begins to scream for attention. You whine softly and squeeze, palming it gently in your palm, bringing the male to a full hard-on. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back against the blanket, arching your back and spreading your legs to grab the other’s attention. Elliot moves forward, grabbing at your pants and underwear, looking at you for permission to take them off with slightly shaking hands. You give him a pleading look before pushing your hips up, allowing for him to quickly pull them down, exposing your needy sex.

You moan into the cave, your voice echoing due to the cold air lapping at your need. Elliot laughs softly and kisses your stomach, looking up at you with hooded lust-filled eyes, “Darling you’re so needy for me already.” 

He kisses further down to your hip, to your thighs then finally reaching the spot you wanted it the most. He teasingly blows the cold night air against your entrance before sitting up with a smile on his face. You whine as he pulls away, wanting him to give you exactly what you need, knowing that the man probably could pick you apart so easily. Spreading your legs further you bat your eyes up at Elliot, pleads falling from your kissed red lips, “Please please oh god please…” Elliot only chuckles softly, and shakes his head, “There is no god here but Sleep my love.” He purrs gently, reaching down to brush two of his fingers against your lips, pushing them past them into your mouth. You moan around the digits, licking and sucking on them as you would if it were to be his cock.

“That’s enough…” He growls out, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, moving them closer to your entrance. The man rubs them around your hole, wetting it before pushing one finger in slowly, carefully to make sure you are not hurting. He looks at your pleasure-filled face, your hips pushing down against the intrusion, needing and wanting more than what he is giving you. You sigh softly and wiggle your hips down further, signaling to him that it was okay.

Elliot slowly pulls his finger out, pushing it back in at a slow but steady pace, stretching the cute hole of yours, all for him to break and use it. He sighs softly, palming his own cock at the sight in front of him. 

You push your hips down one more time and whine loudly as he hips the little bundle of nerves inside of you by accident. The other smiles widely before leaning down and spitting at your entrance, slipping in another finger to prepare you.

It wasn’t long before he was fucking you roughly with his fingers, pushing them in and out while spreading them to stretch you perfectly for his cock. Every inward thrust was an attack on your sweet spot, rubbing and playing with it as though he had nothing better to do. Your whines and whimpers of pleasure growing louder the closer you get.

Everything was wet, ready, and needy for Elliot to touch, but he purposely ignored you, focusing on spreading out your already prepared hole. “Elliot, please.. For the love of everything fuck me!” You snap, sitting up on your elbows to look at the other. 

That is when you take note of his actions, his cock was beautifully on display for you, glistening with precum that had dripped down his shaft as he played with his balls. He looks up at you as though he had been caught, caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Elliot whines softly before getting closer to you, pushing you to lie flat.

He edges closer to you, pulling his fingers out and wiping the wetness onto his cock, groaning lowly in his throat at the sensitive touch. The beautiful eyes from before look at you, almost pleading as he whines the tip of his cock up with your entrance, staring into your eyes, asking for permission to push in. 

“Please… Come on you can fuck me good~” You moan out softly, trying to entice the worshipper. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, holds it, and pushes inside of you.

The two of you both moan softly at the spark of pleasure, bodies growing even warmer as he stops to look down at where you are connected. He laughs in pleasure, a hand grabbing at your hip to hold you down as he pushes halfway in. You whimper softly, covering your mouth to hide the pleasurable pain from the stretch. Looking up at him with eyes full of lust as he thrust the rest of his cock in, filling you nicely. 

Elliot stays still for a second, allowing you to readjust to his girth, smiling softly at the soft pleasured moans escaping your mouth. He leans down close to your ear, nipping at it softly while whispering sweet praises, “Taking me so well love…”

The pace starts slow, his hips pulling his wet cock out before he plunges it back inside of you, shots of pleasure running up your spine. You move your hand to wrap around his back, digging and clawing your way into his back, marking him up as yours. A soft whine escapes your mouth as he angles his hips to slowly but deeply pound into your sweet spot. 

You moan loudly, the wet noises of your entrance squishing around his cock, taking him in so deeply. Whimpering softly you push your hips down, trying to buck up to quicken the pace. The grip on your hips tightens, pushing your hips to the ground keeping you from moving, keeping you from speeding up the achingly slow pace. 

“What’s wrong pet? Can’t handle it slow? But you’re handling my cock buried inside of you” He teases in your ear, nipping and licking at it slowly, kissing down from your ear to your jaw. He leaves small hickies here and there, bruising you as his as you had him.

Elliot bites down roughly on your shoulder blade, teeth sinking into the skin as his cock slows down to a barely moving pace. The bite slowly starts to ooze blood causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure due to the unexpected pain. He chuckles as he pulls back to lap at the blood now making its way down your shoulder.

You whine moving your hips, trying to push the other to move again. He takes the hint and picks up the pace, fucking into your hole with a much rougher pace than before. Elliot chuckles softly and tilts his head at you, smiling with those sharp fang-like teeth. “You tasted so fucking good darling…”

With your eyes rolling back, you arch your back in pleasure feeling as the male above you pounds into your sweet spot again, drilling you and filling you full all at the same time.

The wet sounds of your entrance sucking him in further echo through the cave, his and your moans mixing together into a sweet melody. Elliot softly groaning in pleasure, eyes closed as he leans down into your shoulder, licking at the bite mark again, trying to draw more blood from it. You whimper as you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, the pounding of the cock inside of you making your insides quiver. Just as you were about to reach your peak, panting with short “ah”s as he pounded into you, Elliot forcefully wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing tightly as he continued chasing his own pleasure.

A pathetic whimper leaves your mouth as the pressure around your throat slowly increases to a point of worry. You try tapping at the male’s arm, signaling for him to let go, but he refuses, giving you a soft almost lovingly smile as the world around you begins to look spotty. Your head begins to feel fuzzy, the dark black spots during into you slowly losing the last bit of air in your lungs. Darkness taking over as you feel Elliot still moving inside of you.

When you wake you feel the heaviness of your body, everything hurting as though you had been dragged from hell and earth again. Voices, there were so many voices to be heard, talking as though they were pleading and begging for someone. 

“Vessel, please! I want first dibs!” A voice whines loudly, causing your ears to ring at how thick and loud the accent was. You tried moving your head to look at the source of the sound, but your head was heavy with fog from losing oxygen. A soft whine leaves your throat, no one picking up on it due to the arguing from another voice.

“You always ask for first dibs III, it's my turn now.” Another softer voice argues back, keeping a calm tone but with an edge of irritation.

Someone clears their throat and all of the voices stop, everyone seems to hold respect for the person, “I decide who goes first, I think our lovely IV deserves first for once.” That voice, you knew that voice, it was Elliot, the same man who choked you to the point of passing out during a “ritual” for his god he seemed to worship. 

Finally, you were able to look up, opening your blurry eyes to see that you were being held by someone, the final person who didn’t seem to be speaking at all. And there stood Elliot, wearing the same red and white floral mask you had seen from before. But now the male seemed to be holding power, the way he stands shows he was relaxed but also in control of the situation. 

He notices you are awake, slowly walking closer to you, you attempt to struggle out of the 4th person’s arms, struggling with all of your might but failing miserably due to him being stronger than you. Elliot looks down at you, taking note of the bruising around your neck, finding it turning a deep purple and black from where his hand had wrapped tightly. “Looks like the sacrifice finally awoke,” He says loud enough for everyone to hear, he grabs your face and lifts it up, making it so you are forced to look around you.

There stood two other masked men, their faces covered by a black material that had a symbol painted on, the same damn symbol on Elliot’s mask. 

One of these masked men stood at an impressive 6’4 in height, his bright blue eyes staring down at you in a creepy excitement, something no one should have to see. The other stood much shorter than the rest of them, standing at an almost cute height of 5’6.

The leader of the group, Elliot now deemed Vessel, grabbed you by the shirt, lifting you up a little bit taller so your feet were dangling off the ground. He stared at you for a second before gently petting your chest. You cringed and kept quiet to hopefully be able to survive whatever was going to happen.

Vessel glares at the one behind you, still holding your hands to your hand so you couldn’t escape even if you struggled more. The hand on your chest began to push and push, taking your breath away as you silently screamed. The pain growing heavier and deeper as the tears fall down your eyes, your feet kicked in the air as you tried your best to get away from the pain. Sadly you weren’t able to, feeling the deep crack of your bones in your chest, they gave way to the pressure of Vessel’s hand.

The deep red blood of your blood coats Elliot’s hand, your chest ached as his hand dove deeper and deeper inside of you. You screamed loudly, begging for him to stop slowly losing consciousness yet again, this time you didn’t wake up. Once Elliot had reached through your chest, he dug around searching for the right organ, the heart. The others sit back and watch as your body falls limp, no longer having any resistance. II, the shorter one perks up, eyeing the organ in his leader’s hand, craving the delicious taste of blood straight from the heart. 

Vessel takes your heart, biting into it, chewing and swallowing the fleshy still slowly beating heart. He hums in delight when IV shifts around, looking at him with needy eyes. The red and white masked man grabbed your heart, sipping the blood as it spills from it, grabbing the man that had been holding you up. He carefully pulls the other’s mask up and watches as he opens his mouth. IV staring between Vessel and your body, opening his mouth for the other.

The leader of the cult spits the blood into the 4th vessel’s mouth, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. IV hums softly, bowing his head as he lets go of your body, dropping you to the cold forest floor. Your body hit with a thump, going limply everywhere, with blood and bits of bone messing up Vessel’s body paint.

After he finished spitting into IV’s mouth, he walked over to II, the shorter looking up at Vessel with a tired but eager expression, loving the moments of blood sacrifices. II sighs softly and pulls up his mask, reaching up and grabbing lovingly at Vessel’s cloak. The taller laughs softly and leans down, pecking II on the lips before slipping his tongue into the other’s mouth, letting the blood spill into his mouth. The drummer moans softly and swallows the blood, pulling away from Vessel to look over at IV who was now staring back at him. Creepy. 

III, the tallest masked member bounces back and forth on his heels, ready to get on his knees for the other when it was his turn. Vessel, slowly turning away from II, turns to III rolling his eyes with a soft but bloody smile. He bites into the heart again, getting more blood to fill his mouth, walking over to the taller. III kneels quickly, wrapping his arms around Vessel’s legs, pulling him closer with a pathetic needy expression. He whines softly and lets Elliot lift his mask up, your blood still being held inside of his mouth, growing colder than it was supposed to be.  Vessel leans down and looks at III’s beautiful blue eyes, forcing the other to open his mouth, leaning down even further to spit the blood into his mouth, letting the thick liquid coat his throat happily. The singer pulls away from III and stands in the middle of the circle, bowing his hand and clasping his hands together, praying.

All at once, all four of the vessels hear a loud booming voice in their heads, growing antsy with the anxiety that comes with it.

“Good job my vessels. We will rise soon”

[blkkizzat]

Hi kali,

GRE studying is going....OK. I was reminded that I SUCCCK at math. Will be working on my critical writing paper starting next week as well as studying. I did not miss this part of school. I'm not going for a phD in writing. Though writing is a big part of it. I am in the arts though. You know my handle just check my blog description if you're curious.

But speaking of PHD....professor Nanami and Professor Geto.

Professor Nanami is low key sexy. He doesn't show off but one time you saw him remove his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves and you about fainted. You're a grad student (Not his grad student- Not even in the same department) so it's not exactly unprofessional for him to date you. And when he asks you out, you can't think of any reason to say no. What you don't expect is to have the time of your life. Nanami is really fun outside of classes. He takes you to a local festival. A one night event. He wins you a stuffed bear and a gold fish. You weren't sure about giving him a kiss when the date first started but by the end of it you have butterflies as you lean up and give him a peck on the cheek. He moves his head though and you end up with a short peck on the lips. It's sweet and hot at the same time. When you guys come out as dating You're the talk of the both your departments.

Professor Geto, however, is in your department. He's not your advisor, though. You see him everywhere. And your conversations are good. Deep and incitful. When he asks you for dinner the last thing you expect is to be fucking him in his car outside the restaurant. You got there early. You were just in his car talking when he leaned over and kissed you. He apologized at first and said he just couldn't help himself. But he knew what he was doing. He gives you these beautiful puppy dog eyes and suddenly your kissing him again. And again. And then you're full on making out. Ten minutes later you've moved to the back of the car. You're glad his windows are tinted because as long as you don't move too much, no one will know that you're getting railed in the back seat of a professor's car. And he does go hard. You hardly notice that the man hasn't bothered to use protection until you're walking into the restaurant (cause he's hungry now), and you feel him leaking out of you. You're glad your dress is long enough that no one can see your legs. You can't even chastise him cause you were both caught in the moment. And you continue to date through graduation. One thing about Suguru is that his ass is stubborn. When he makes up his mind that he wants something, he's going for it. He keeps your ass under lock and key. Everyone knows your dating, though no one will say shit to your face. No one is surprised when a week after graduation, you have a rock on your hand. But you'll never be Mrs. You're Dr and Dr Geto. And Suguru finds it hot!

Respectfully, I needed this - 🧠

🧠 nonny... u may not have figured this out yet...but im slower than thee fuck fjklshfkdjhgkfd. i never figure out who my anons are unless they tell me. u gonna have to let me know fam. msg me 😭😭.

omg these ideas are delicious...

prof nanami, i love how innocent and whimsy it is going on a first date to a festival and him winning you prizes and the kiss was! ahhh im such a slut i would have to fuck him night one but when it comes to be slow courted i wouldnt mind if it was nanami. he wants to let you know what you mean to him and i find that saurrrr cuteee.

prof geto, i also adoreeee because he was wasting NO time lmfao. Dr. & Dr. Geto okfjdhvksdhfvksjdb IMMA SCREAM thats so perf 🥹🥹. also lmfao at him just raw nutting in us day ONE. he definitely knew wtf he was doing. lmfao he didnt even care to ask if we were on the pill just busted fkjhfkjhrsfkjrshbdfj.

also i just had a thot...

we never get prof sukuna and i know in AU people tend to write him as a bad boy/criminal/fuck-up and although he IS a villain he's not a dumb one. he's very smart and intellectual, he just doesn't give a fuck. i think he would teach something like physics. i can see him being an astrophysicist for some reason, ex-NASA (i'd like to think he got fired bc he ended up knocking out an astronaut who thought he knew more than Sukuna cause he's been up in space before and almost jeopardized lives because of it). But prof Sukuna is notorious for being a huge hard ass and making his already insanely difficult classes, due to the subject matter, even harder than they need to be. you, a future astrophysicist in the making, are determined to learn from the best and your cheery disposition is not discouraged by him. in fact you like the challenge and arguing with him. however he IS your adviser which makes the situation a bit more scandalous. especially since it was in one of your advisory meetings where one minute you were arguing about your thesis topic and the next you are spread out on his desk, your thesis papers everywhere and Sukuna's head between your legs. but you don't get caught. if anything, once you do start dating Sukuna is harder on you. he wants you to succeed but he wont coddle you, he'll critique you more—expect perfection from you. However he will be there to tutor you and take you on special field trips. He knows the person who runs the observatory near campus and gets a special private viewing for you when conditions are clear and you can see the pretty gaseous clouds from the next galaxy from the powerful hub telescope.... all while seated so pretty on his cock. He'll rub slow tortuous circles on your clit with his rough thumb while he making you list various constellations and quizzing you on basic chemical composition of stars and planets—which you would usually spout off flawlessly but when he is making you see your own stars as your eyes cross into the back of your head there's no way you could focus on the ones in the sky. now i kinda wanna write professor sukuna kfhdadskjfhaskjf.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 1 - Prompt: Fire @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 987 words

**Series 3/5 in a continuous multi-ship story**

<<<Previous Series OR Beginning

As soon as Pandora saw the preview of the notification pop up, she rushed to her contacts and Face-Timed him. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she muttered, flinging her long braid over her shoulder.

“Hi Panda,” Regulus said. “Bit early, yeah?”

“What's going on?” she demanded.

“Shhh!”

“Regulus, you can’t text me something cryptic like ‘I’m on fire’ without explanation! Now, spill. Is it about bi-boy?”

He pressed his lips together in a failed attempt to hide a grin. Before Pandora could chastise him for keeping secrets from her, he tipped the phone down toward his chest. A squeal left her lips the moment dark curls appeared at his collarbone.

“Panda! Hush! He’s still asleep.”

She shimmied excitedly and giggled into her hand. “How was it? You desperately need it, ami.”

Regulus’s face flushed bright pink as he lifted the mobile. “I don’t have the words to explain it. Like…Like drowning, but I want to become part-fish?”

She stifled a laugh and shook her head. Leave it to a poet to create an unhinged description for sex. “That good? Oh, I hate you!”

“You love me,” he replied, grinning wide.

Pandora hadn’t seen him this happy since…well, ever. Her chest clenched hard as she fought back the urge to cry. If she started crying, he would too.

Regulus huffed and pointed at the screen. “Stop it! I cannot go all weepy again.”

“I’m just so happy for you,” she whispered, cradling the phone in both hands. “You deserve a good one, Reg.”

“So do you.”

“Yes, well.” Pandora shrugged dismissively, then smiled. “Unless your new beau has a sibling…”

Regulus scrunched his nose in that incredibly adorable way of his. “No, sorry. Only child.”

“Zut alors.” Pandora sighed and sprawled on her bed. “When is it my turn?”

He levelled a thoroughly unimpressed frown at her. “You could have anyone you wanted, if you’d stop saying weird shite.”

“It’s not my fault people take me seriously! Speaking of Sirius, how is he handling this…development,” she asked, wriggling her fingers at the screen. “He better not interfere, or I swear-”

“No, no. He’s fine with it, better than fine, actually.” Regulus appeared mildly amused. “The prat even gave James his ‘blessing’ to kiss me.”

Pandora bit her bottom lip hard to keep her emotions in check. The relationship between Regulus and his brother had been strained for years. Seeing them reconnect and watching Regulus’s eyes soften when he mentioned Sirius melted her heart.

“By the way, he’s seeing someone here too.”

“Sirius? As in Sirius-Sirius?” she spluttered, blinking rapidly. “The one who vowed to-”

“-die single? The very same.”

“What’s in the water in Wales? Can you send me some, or do I need to drink it on location?”

“I don’t know about the water, but the locals are charming,” a deep voice mumbled. “Who’s that?”

Regulus rolled his eyes and tipped his phone down again. James turned his head and blinked at him in confusion, then squinted at the screen.

“Do I know you?”

“No. This is Pandora. She’s-”

“Delighted to meet you. James, right?” she interrupted, circling her hand in front of the screen. “I strongly approve of all of this and I’m a big fan of your work.”

He smirked, then laid his head on Regulus’s chest. “That’s good. How soon can you get here, Pandora?”

“Oh, I’m not-”

“She was just-”

James arched an eyebrow as his gaze flicked between them. “I’ll buy the ticket, if necessary.”

Regulus hummed thoughtfully. “Well, you did say that you wanted to get away from your brother.”

Pandora sat bolt upright, her heart in her throat. “Wait, really? You wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“I’ll set it up,” James mumbled, burying his face in Regulus’s chest. “Need to win you over too.”

“That’s true,” Regulus agreed. He stroked his fingers through James’s curls. “It’s not a bad idea, actually. You can meet James properly…and there’s a group of girls-”

“You like girls?” James said, his voice muffled. “Would she like Lily? She seems nice.”

Pandora slid off the bed and stumbled over the shoes splayed across her floor. “I’m packing right now! James, are you a decent wing-man? Regulus is shite at it.”

“Panda!”

“What? It’s true!”

James chuckled and nodded against Regulus. “He’s too pretty, right? Distracts the target.”

“Exactly.”

Regulus pouted, but his lips twitched to hold back a smile. Holding back was Regulus’s mantra. He rarely let himself slip, yet he was failing to hide how charmed he was by this man.

“What’s she like, Reg?” she said, setting her phone on the dresser to dig through her closet. “Lily?”

“Sirius knows her better than I do. He’s dating one of her friends.”

Pandora’s head snapped up. “Oh this I have to see! When’s the first train?”

“Every thirty minutes or so, isn’t it?” James said, turning his head to yawn.

“I can be ready in an hour.”

Regulus’s face lit up as he craned his neck to see James. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yep. Do you see my phone? Thank you.” James squinted at the screen, then smiled when Regulus pressed his glasses onto his nose. “I’ll have Reg email the tickets to you, Pandora.”

“Merde, I can’t believe it! Reg, thank him properly for me, will you?”

“My pleasure.”

James dropped his phone, then scrambled to pick it back up. “Fuck. Wait until I pay for it, mi amor, or I'll forget how to sign my name.”

Pandora ended the call before the couple got too involved. Only an hour to pack, arrange a ride to the train station, and come up with an excuse to skip the mind-numbing boring holiday party her parents planned every year.

Next Part>>>

[clangenrising]

Month 9 - Leaffall

Scrap still wasn’t used to eating animals with fur and feathers and everything. She wished that these Clan cats had kibbles or sausage or cheese. Luckily, Branchbark had taken her fishing that morning. She was terrible at it, but he wasn’t that bad and had managed to snag her a small river fish he called a dace which she had scarfed down so quickly she had nearly choked. If she weren’t so worried about upsetting her new hosts, she would have devoured the entire prey pile, fur and feathers be damned. 

Now she sat on the edge of the little clearing, grooming her paws over and over and over again. Last night, Goldenstar had come to her and discussed the possibility of her joining the Clan, officially changing her name and becoming one of their ‘warriors’. She couldn’t imagine herself being a warrior, a fighter. She pictured Razor and his bruisers, or even Van Pelt and the other zealous Chaff, and her legs started to shake. But Goldenstar had assured her that being a Clan warrior was very different from that. If she wanted to, she wouldn’t be required to fight so long as she helped keep the prey flowing and the dens clean and that didn’t sound so bad. Goldenstar had even offered to change her name which was an exciting idea. 

After a bit of thought, she had agreed, and Goldenstar had told her there would be an official ceremony the next day. Scrap was consumed by nerves. She couldn’t help but worry she would muck the whole thing up. What would the Clan cats do? Would they laugh at her? Would they beat her? Starve her? All three? Branchbark had assured her no harm would come to her but, any time she sat still, the thoughts began to overflow. 

And so she sat, grooming her paws over and over and over again. 

Nearby, she spied Branchbark’s friend, Oddstripe, grooming her- his kits similarly. It was still odd to Scrap, being so close to a pretender like that. Back home, Razor would have taken the cat’s massive ears or worse until she had renounced her foolishness. But here she was free- he was free to do as he pleased. Dammit! She had to remember! He, he, he, he, he. She was a he, or- curses! He was a he. Shaking her head, Scrap gave herself a few quick whacks over the head to try and drill it into her brain. 

“Oh, don’t do that,” Oddstripe said, startling her. 

“Sorry,” Scrap said quickly, pulling both her paws beneath her. 

“Oh, It’s alright,” Oddstripe said, blushing. “I didn’t mean- I just meant it makes me sad to see you hurt yourself like that.” 

“Yeah, you gotta be nice to yourself,” chirped the fluffiest of the kits. 

“It didn’t really hurt,” Scrap laughed anxiously. To tell the truth, she liked the pain of it, it was satisfying in a way. 

“Okay,” Oddstripe said gently, “As long as it doesn’t hurt.” 

“Papa!” the girl of the litter whined, “My feathers aren’t right!” Oddstripe turned back to his kits and leaned down to help fix a series of cardinal feathers into the kit’s fur. 

“Here,” he said, placing a few more licks over her shoulders to get the feathers to lie straight. “How’s that?” 

“Better,” frowned the girl. “Thank you, Papa.” 

“Look!” the blue boy whispered loudly, “Goldenstar’s coming out of her den! It’s time!” 

“Shh! She’ll hear you!” hissed the other boy. Oddstripe chuckled and gave them a few more licks over the head. Scrap gave her own paws a few more licks, wincing slightly as her tongue pulled at the skin her previous grooming had made raw. She pulled her paws underneath her and curled her tail close around her, hoping to be as small as possible until she was called upon. Her eyes flitted across the camp to Goldenstar who was speaking softly with Scorch. 

Scrap swallowed dryly. In the time they had shared the camp, Scorch had mostly avoided her, thank the folk, and had not been nearly as smooth and gregarious as she was used to. Still, it seemed she had once again found favor with the local leader. She wondered if Goldenstar had the same kind of fondness for her that Razor had. Given their tolerance for pretenders, there was a decent chance they didn’t mind that kind of behavior either. There had always been rumors Scorch went both ways so Scrap wouldn’t be surprised. 

After exchanging a few words, Goldenstar bunched her powerful muscles and leapt onto the stone above her den. Scrap flinched as Scorch’s eyes fixed on her for a moment. Thankfully, they just as quickly moved away as Scorch turned and padded to the edge of the clearing and settled down. 

On top of the stone, Goldenstar raised her tail and called out, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!” Her voice cut clearly through the open air of the plains and soon all of the cats had emerged from their dens to listen. Scrap felt a strange prickle of unease when she realized how relaxed they all were. Some were excited, sure, but none were afraid. It was like she had stumbled into a garden meeting somehow and she felt intensely out of place. Unconsciously, she gave her tender paws a few more licks. 

“Today,” Goldenstar said, smiling proudly, “We gather together to name three apprentices, the first since we survived the Red Gut plague and my first as Leader. I know we have all been looking forward to this. Naming new apprentices is a sign that our Clan is still strong and thriving and lets us look forward to the day three new warriors are welcomed into our ranks.” Looking down at the kits, who were fidgeting by their father, Goldenstar said, “Barleykit, Sparrowkit, Floodkit, would you please step forward?” 

The two boys bounded eagerly into the middle of the clearing, staring up at Goldenstar with their tail tips curling excitedly. The girl paused nervously until Oddstripe gave her a gentle nudge forward and she scrambled to stand between her brothers.

Goldenstar purred, “The three of you have reached the age of six moons and today you will begin your training to become warriors. Sparrowkit, from this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sparrowpaw.” The fluffy brown tom grinned and nodded, puffing up his chest with pride. Scrap watched the ceremony enthralled. What strange traditions these Clan cats had. 

“Russetfrond,” Goldenstar said, and Scrap followed her gaze to a burly ginger tom with handsome cheeks and cardinal feathers in his tail. “You have proven yourself to be a dedicated and loyal warrior and I believe it is time for you to take another apprentice. You will mentor Sparrowpaw. I hope that you will teach him to focus his enthusiasm into a similar dedication to his Clan.” Russetfrond grunted with a nod and stood to join the apprentices in the middle of the circle of cats. He leaned down to touch noses with Sparrowpaw who beamed up at him, golden eyes sparkling. 

The rest of the cats suddenly called out, “Sparrowpaw! Sparrowpaw!”, startling Scrap. She took a deep breath and held her ground, wishing there was something close by to hide under. 

Once they had finished, Russetfrond murmured in his apprentice’s ear, “This way.” Laying his tail over Sparrowpaw’s back, he guided the young cat off to the side to sit and then the ceremony continued. 

“Barleykit,” Goldenstar said, causing the kit in question to squeak and straighten herself. “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Barleypaw. Your mentor will need to be able to teach you a warrior’s skill and how to have confidence in it, and for that reason, I have chosen Yarrowshade to be your mentor.” The creamy ginger cat who had greeted Scrap at the border sat up excitedly, seemingly surprised by the news. “Yarrowshade, I expect you to look out for Barleypaw and help her grow into a brave and powerful warrior.” 

“I won’t let you down,” Yarrowshade said, moving to touch noses with Barleypaw. Again, the cats began to cheer the young cat’s name until she and her new mentor moved off to the side - the opposite side, Scrap noted. The final kit of the litter squirmed in anticipation as he waited for Goldenstar to resume.

“Floodkit,” she said, “From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Floodpaw. After some consideration and discussion with Nightfrost and your father, I have decided that I myself will be your mentor. I look forward to working with you to teach you the skills and mindset of a warrior.” 

Floodpaw was stiff with excitement as Goldenstar leaped down to touch noses with him. The cats raised their voices again to chant his name. Goldenstar smiled, giving her new apprentice a playful cuff over the ear, and then leapt back up onto the Stoneperch. Scrap’s stomach flipped when she realized that she was next. 

“In addition to these new apprentices,” said Goldenstar, “we are proud to name a new warrior. While Scrap has come to us for protection and would be welcome to stay regardless, she has expressed interest in taking a warrior name and learning to follow our code.” Scrap tried to lift her head proudly but she couldn’t manage to rise from her crouch and ended up feeling like a ridiculous turtle. 

Goldenstar continued, “Now, the last time I inducted a cat into the Clan, I changed the words of the ceremony in order to make them more comfortable and I know that that upset many of you. It was never my intention to permanently change the oaths our warriors swear or to turn my back on StarClan and I apologize for giving you all that impression. I simply did not want to ask a cat to swear to something that they don’t fully understand, especially to the death. For that reason, I propose a Soft Oath that new cats can swear. The oath would allow them to take a name and participate in Clan duties until they feel comfortable swearing the True Oath that our warrior apprentices will swear. Are there any objections?” 

Cats shifted, considering the thought. The big ginger tom, Russetfrond, opened his mouth and then closed it. 

After another moment, he said, “No, I see the logic in that.” 

“Agreed,” nodded Nightfrost, the big she-cat who seemed to be second in command. The rest of the cats all nodded or shrugged, except for the elderly Healer sitting near the edge of her den who sat silently, eyes closed. 

“Good,” Goldenstar sighed in relief. “With that in mind, Scrap, could you please step forward?” Scrap flinched at the sound of her name, instinctively. Forcing herself to stand and step forward. The moment she left the safety of the crowd, her skin began to crawl. An overwhelming compulsion to clean her pelt began to tug on her brain. It felt like a fog was closing around her psyche and it took all of her effort to stare through it and focus on Goldenstar’s voice.

“Scrap,” said Goldenstar, “is it your wish to join RisingClan as a warrior, to learn our ways, and to serve your fellow warriors?” 

Scrap had agreed to this last night, but somehow her throat wouldn’t move. Fighting against her own nerves, she managed to eke out a shaky, “Yes.”

“In return, the Clan will serve you in kind,” said Goldenstar. “Would you like to take a new name or keep the one you already have?” 

“Um,” Scrap shifted. “A new one, please.” She had no attachment to her name. It had always been a point of mockery for her, or a term of derision. She honestly wondered what these strange cats would think to call her. Suddenly, she was struck by the fear that they would give her something even worse than scrap. Why hadn’t she considered that sooner? They had all been so kind, but that didn’t mean-

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you a warrior name. From this day forward, you will be known as Aldertail. Your resilience and bravery shine through and we welcome you as a member of RisingClan.” 

The cats cheered her new name. “Aldertail! Aldertail!” The cries were slightly less enthusiastic than those given to the kits, which was to be expected, but they surprised her nonetheless. She looked around in awe. Goldenstar jumped down again and pressed her nose to Scrap- no, Aldertail’s forehead gently. Aldertail blinked up at her, unsure what to do. 

“With that our meeting is concluded,” Goldenstar said to the crowd then, more softly, she added, “I hope you like the name. I tried to pick out a good one.” 

“I’m sure it’s a good one, your excellence,” the new warrior said, bowing her head. 

“No need to use titles,” Goldenstar reminded her, “we’re friends here.” 

“Right!” winced Aldertail. “I’ll remember, I promise.”

“It’s fine, really,” Goldenstar said with a little laugh. 

Floodpaw, who had been waiting nearby, finally decided to cut in. “Goldenstar, can we go do battle training or something?” 

“Ah, yeah, sure, one second,” Goldenstar said, looking down at him. “Why don’t you go grab the others and we’ll talk about what we want to do on your first day.” 

“Okay!” he nodded and sprinted off to the spot where Russetfrond was talking with Sparrowpaw. 

“I have to go,” Goldenstar said, “but make yourself comfortable. Our home is yours now too.” 

“Thank you,” Aldertail nodded. “I will.” With that, Goldenstar headed off, and the rest of the crowd dispersed as well. Branchbark and his friend, Ospreymask, approached. 

“How are you feeling?” asked Branchbark. 

“Good,” Aldertail said, feeling nauseated. 

“Your name is so perfect!” chirped Ospreymask. “Your tail looks just like a catkin!” 

“A what?” Aldertail asked.

“A catkin!” Ospreymask said, “They’re the flowers that hang from alder trees.” 

“Oh,” she nodded in response. “That’s what the name means.” 

“Have you never seen an alder tree before?” Ospreymask asked. 

“We don’t get many trees in the city,” she said, shaking her head. 

“We can show you one,” offered Branchbark. “They might not have a lot of catkins on them though.” 

“S-sure,” Aldertail nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“It’s no trouble at all,” he smiled. “Come on!” 

The two Clan cats turned and led the way out of camp and Aldertail, turning her name over in her head like it was a toy, followed. She wasn’t sure she was happy, but she felt better than she had. Perhaps she could put the horrors she had seen behind her, out here in the open fields. Perhaps she could bury Scrap and start over. She liked the sound of that.

UPDATES:

Scrap joined RisingClan and took the name Aldertail. Floodkit, Sparrowkit, and Barleykit have been made apprentices! Floodpaw was apprenticed to Goldenstar Sparrowpaw was apprenticed to Russetfrond Barleypaw was apprenticed to Yarrowshade

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

Some random modern HotD headcanons :)

Hey y’all! So I kept thinking of some funny, and very specific headcanons for the HotD characters, so I decided to just make it a whole post. This will actually be my first “legit” post on here, lol! Anyways, this will include some headcanons about Aemond, Aegon II, Luke, Jace, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Helaena, etc. But hope y’all enjoy lol! :)

Ok, I am convinced that Aemond has a secret stash of tea hidden somewhere. He's even put them all in a very nice ornate, antique box. It's his guilty pleasure. He probably would have some Earl Gray, English Breakfast, maybe even some lavender mint for the evenings. He'd keep it secret because all the teas he's gotten are way too expensive, and special.

Luke is an avid Minecraft gamer. Like he's basically built Dragonstone, and the Red Keep in his server. He'll play sometimes with Jace, or maybe even Aegon. But he doesn't let them into that world. Aegon would probably blow it all up with TnT.

Speaking of gaming, I think some people are on the same page that Aegon would be some kind of gamer. He'd be up to date on all the new systems and gadgets. He'd be one of the firsts to have the PS5 when it came out. He probably plays a lot of Call of Duty. Maybe even some Valorant when he doesn't wanna fire up the PS. He'd definitely be cursing and yelling at the game, to the point where Alicent threatens to take it away.

While Rhaenyra watches her shows, House Wives, Rupaul's Drag Race, etc. Daemon pretends to be not interested, but really he's super invested. He'd be leaning against the couch, or the wall totally sucked in. And when Rhaenyra tells him to just sit down and watch with her, he's all like, "no no I don't even like this show". But then he'd say things like, "Well maybe if her gown was better made she wouldn't have been eliminated last episode".

Aegon gives me frat boy energy. And I know I'm not the first to say that lol. You already know he's planning all the parties, and picking the themes. I like to think he'd be very invested into picking the themes. They would be things like, dragon night, wear your fave dragon scale colors. Or something like, Dragonstone beach night, wear your swim suits and flip flops.

Alicent likes to knit. Or maybe crochet? It's her stress reliever activity after dealing with Aegon, and the rest of the boys. Helaena is always giving her new patterns or designs to try.

I think Alicent also likes to take the occasional Buzzfeed quiz. "If you were a cake flavor, here's what you'd be based on your star sign".

Helaena runs a very successful tik tok account. She'd post her outfits, and maybe some art or cool bugs she's found.

Aegon listens to a lot of Megan Thee Stallion and Kim Petras. He's blasting Kim Petras' Treat me like a Slut at least 5 times a day. He gets ready to it in the morning.

Aemond will get down to some Amy Winehouse.

Jace works at the local animal shelter as his summer job. He only got the job cause Rhaenyra said he needed to get out of the house. Plus Helaena also works there, so she helped him get hired.

Aemond would be a great bartender. Not with like actually interacting with customers, but he can make some great drinks. Like he's over here coming up with all these crazy cocktails. Although, like his tea obsession he keeps this on the low. He doesn't want Aegon asking him to make drinks all the time. Gods forbid he asks Aemond to bartend at one of the frat parties.

Helaena was a Monster High girl growing up.

Aemond has a motorcycle. It was his one rebellious purchase. Alicent hates it.

Luke can kick Aegon's ass in any game, video or otherwise. You name it, Call of Duty, UNO, Valorent, Go fish...

Rhaenyra has a bit of a sweet tooth, but she has to hide her candy stash, cause the boys will steal it in a heartbeat. Who would have thought Daemon would love lemon drops so much.

I really could go on forever, these are just too fun to write. But I'll leave it here for now lol.

[equallyshaw]

connor bedard x kailey hughes au!

↳ star crossed lovers au masterlist. ↳ throwback blurb to 2019 right after the draft (: warnings: swearing & an anxiety attack!.. this one is sad :/ word count: 1.5k

kailey had just come back from a soccer intensive out in los angeles, when jack had just come back from the devils development camp. quinn and kailey had just walked inside through the garage when jack waltzed through the front door demanding the family's attention. he wanted to let them all know what he had gotten up to. kailey silently groaned, and turned towards the kitchen to grab a snack. quinn watched her walk out of the family room and jack could not hide his distaste, "is that how you're gonna treat your brother who's been away for almost a month?" he chastised, referencing his non stop media touring and now development camp. she sighed knowing that this was a fight that he was gonna win, each and every time. she no longer had the energy or will to compete. "why yes jack, id love to know everything." she said sarcastically as she went to grab an apple and creamy peanut butter.

jack made a tsk noise, and began to ramble on for the next 45 minutes. by the time he was done, kailey had managed to slip out without so much as an eyebrow raised from the boy. luke found his way up to her bedroom, softly knocking before stepping inside. she had just finished putting her clothes away or in the laundry bin, and she shook her head. "its not even worth it lukey." she said not looking up at him as she fished through her carry on bag. "oh come on, we all know that you could have put him in his place and shut him up." he said plopping down on her bed. she sighed, standing up and putting her bag up on it's hook. there was a knock on the door as soon as she was about to speak up, "luke were getting food!" they heard jack on the other side. luke was about to speak up as she turned around, "just! go.." she said her voice raising slightly before softening. "just go, please. its whatever." she huffed, taking her towel and going into her connected washroom.

as soon as he shut the door, she shut her eyes and began to sob silently. and then it wasn't silent after a few minutes. she kneeled down and pulled her knees up to her chest, hyperventilating at this point.

ellen was walking past kaileys room when she heard the sobbing, and she quickly made her way in without knocking. however, her bedroom door was locked. "kailey sweetie, can you let me in please?" she said knocking on the washroom door. it only made kailey sob harder, "kailey baby, please. just let me be with you i wont say anything." ellen pleaded, as jim made his way down the hall after he heard ellen shouting. "no! i don't want to talk to you." she cried out, and jim's eyebrows furrowed. "'kiwi, please sweetie we just want to make sure you're ok!" jim added now. kailey shook her head, feeling her breathing become harder and harder. she was having an anxiety attack and felt as if she couldn't breathe. "i-i-i cant bre-breathe." she sobbed, and her parents looked at one another. they didn't know what to do besides breaking down the door. "call quinn!" ellen said in a hushed voice, and jim nodded pulling out his phone.

quinn was in the middle of driving towards their local chipotle, when he got a call. "hey dad, whats up?" he asked tapping the accept call on his phone. "hey uh, we need you to speak to or attempt to speak to kailey." jim said on speaker, before he took it off speaker and pulled it up to his ear. "is everything ok?" he questioned, his tone laced with concern. luke's head popped up from the backseat, quickly going to text kailey. quinn's hit the steering wheel twice, hearing that she was having an anxiety attack - well now, panic attack. "bro chill out." jack said not looking up from his phone. "put her on." quinn said, pulling into the parking lot. jack quickly hopped out as soon as quinn parked, with luke and quinn not moving from their seats. "lets go, i have plans later." jack said from where he stood just next to the passenger door. quinn waved him off as he heard sobbing from the other end, "she wont let us in the room. fuck!" jim swore as ellen continued to beg, with no luck.

"slide it under the door, ill try to talk to her." quinn said and jim nodded putting the phone on speaker and slid it under the door. kailey heard the scrape of the phone on the wood floor, and looked up to see her dads phone. she sniffled before quinn began to talk, "hey kiwi, is there any way i can get you to unlock the door for mom and dad?" he asked softly, and luke leaned in to hear her response. jack sighed, slamming the door and heading inside. kailey sniffled, "im so over it q...im done being treated as if i don't exist or matter." she sobbed taking the phone and bringing it closer. "i wanted to tell you guys what i did in los angeles, i wanted to tell you guys what food i tried or the colleges i visited..." she trailed off shutting her eyes tightly. "but its all about him, all about him!" she said frustratedly. "i know kiwi, i know." quinn said feeling his and luke's heart shatter. "im fine, i promise." she said wiping her nose, "im letting them in." she said hanging up on quinn. quinn swore, along with luke who sighed.

as soon as kailey unlocked the door, ellen made her way in quickly. jim stayed by the doorframe, watching as his wife pulled their daughter into her arms. she cried softly into ellen's arms, ellen's heart breaking at the sight. her happy-go-lucky daughter wasn't happy, and hadn't been for a while.

_

"no quinn, im sick and tired of him walking around here and telling people that im just another roommate to him? where does he get off by embarrassing me, huh?!" she screamed at her oldest brother. for the past ten minutes the two had been talking, and as it went on kailey's anger grew. "y'know what? im not dealing with this!" she said grabbing her car keys and wallet, and headed downstairs. "kails!" quinn called after her, and ignored him heading down the stairs before going to the garage. "kails wait!" quinn called after her, and she stopped to turn around. "stop defending him! stop it! just stop! next time i need someone to talk to ill know not to come to you, okay?" she screamed about to turn around, but he grabbed her arm before she could do so. she yanked her arm from him, giving him a death glare in the process. "who are we fighting about?" jack questioned cheekily from the living room, and she quickly started her descent towards the second eldest. quinn quickly scuffled after her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "no let go of me!" she screamed, trying to get away. she kicked her foot to his chin, and he let go of her. "dont you touch me luke!" she screamed, pointing a finger at her Irish twin. he held his hands up in innocence, backing away. she then looked towards jack who found all of this amusing.

"kailey." ellen said trying to settle her daughter.

"man if i could only wipe that childish smirk off your face, id be the one smirking. i'd be the one who is fucking happy in this household but NO! it has to be you, always. you have to suck it out of everybody else like goddamn vampire, jack and i only hope karma comes for you..as a rookie." she snapped, before turning around and walking out to the garage. quinn held up his hands, not letting anybody go after her. "you! you don't get to move an inch." he said threatening jack who tried to get up, "i've sat back too damn long and allowed you to treat our only sister like shit for the past three years. I've allowed mom and dad without success try to reprimand you without luck. im sick of you acting like an immature baby who believes that he is the only child in this family. do you realize how annoying it is to hear your voice 24/7? and don't act like i haven't noticed everything, I've just become so immune to it - its made me sick. i love you man but wake up, better yet- grow up!" quinn boomed at his brother, before walking outside. jack looked over towards luke, who only shook his head in response before heading outside after quinn.

ellen and jim looked at one another before they both shook their heads. they stood up, with ellen heading upstairs to kaileys room and jim to his office.

jack sat there alone, not truly understanding or comprehending the true weight of his words and actions to kailey over the years.

damn that was sad, but next blurb will be with connor and kailey!!

hope you liked, and if you did please reblog and like !