#pure pining and murder mystery

[kindred-spirit-93]

me when the bois: muffin? sorry. muffin? sorry. muffin? sorry. muffi-

Courtship Collection

the 4 pieces of courting @kindred-spirit-93

[bridenore]

HD fic recs : Curses (part 2)

Here are a few recs dealing heavily with curses. This is part two of three and focuses on fics ranging from 30k to 50k words. Listed in alphabetical order, as always. Part one can be found here.

Aeternus Solem by @onbeinganangel  [36k]

On December 1st, Harry Potter gets sent halfway across the world to attempt to break a possibly fatal curse on an unnamed British Unspeakable — except said Unspeakable is not unnamed at all and Harry has been in love with him for over four years.

The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell [30k]

After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right.

Catfished by Saras_Girl [32k]

Draco is in deep water, Harry can see straight through him, and that’s not even the full scale of the problem.

Darkest Before the Dawn by @dualwieldteacup [47k]

The last thing Draco wanted was to show up at Harry Potter’s door, cursed blind and holding a boxful of his friends Transfigured into snakes, but here he was. Between breaking the curse, adjusting to life without sight, and teaching his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, Draco’s got his hands full. Being forced to live with Harry Potter might just be the death of him. This is a story about the bonds of friendship, fairy tale endings, and learning to ask for help (even from Gryffindors).

Draco Malfoy, It’s Your Lucky Day by @faith2wood [37k]

Even though he’s unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

En Passant by @dodgerkedavra [41k]

Harry and Draco survive the apocalypse. This is what happens after.

Fearless by Bounding-Heart (Brief_and_Dreamy) [34k]

“There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance.” – John Lennon

Hades Paradox by @romaine2424 [32k]

For reasons unknown to most, Draco Malfoy came to Hogwarts soon after the battle and for five years had never left its premises. Auror Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts to deal with his psychological daemons, but soon realises Professor Draco Malfoy has his own magical and physical daemons to deal with. However, much to Harry’s surprise, Draco is coping well with help from the person Harry aspires to be.

In Our Blood by @secretsalex [37k]

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra [38k]

Harry Potter has been running away since the War, disappearing into his job as a freelance curse-breaker. Work is his life. Home doesn’t exist. He’s about to disappear again when he runs into Death Eater-turned-Healer Draco Malfoy. It’s supposed to be a one-night-stand. They’re not supposed to pine for each other. Harry’s not supposed to sleep with Draco a second time. Or a third. Or a fourth. But when a nasty curse sends Harry back into Draco’s arms, he might be forced to admit that home’s been waiting for him all along… Or: Harry wants to go home. Draco wants to be a home. It’s hard to say it out loud.

Orion in the Sky by space_wingding [30k]

Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter.

Potential Gravity by @lol-zeitgeistic [32k]

Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

Renaissance by @dysonrules [33k]

Harry awakens after a long sleep to find things terribly changed. He’s not in an alternate universe… it just seems like it.

The Rules of War by calrissian18 [40k]

“After having his tentative advance rebuffed, Harry has been Imperius-ing Draco into having a relationship with him. He’s needed to make the curse stronger and stronger, the more he wants – desire, sex, love, marriage, baby. However, when Draco falls pregnant, the power of the curse starts diminishing, no matter what Harry tries. What happens when the curse finally fails?”

Somebody to Love by khasael [31k]

Draco’s life after the war is quite different than it used to be. When he finds himself cursed, with little hope for lifting the spell, he sets out to make the most of the time he has left. Getting to know his Aunt Andromeda and his young cousin Teddy feels like a good thing to do, even if it can’t help him in the long run…or can it?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[galaxiasgreen]

About Me

Hello everyone! My name is Green (she/her), I'm a Hufflepuff with a gremlin streak, and my hobbies include reading, writing, and collecting more books than I can read.

I primarily write humour, angst, fluff, and a bit of spice. At the moment all my work is Canon Character/ Reader OCs, who never have a name (only a nickname, no Y/N). I'm slowly working on porting everything over to tumblr, but you can check out the links to AO3 and Wattpad in the meantime.

As a quick note, I never copy game dialogue. Besides some iconic lines, all writing is original and entirely my own.

Tags & Info

My AO3 account and my Wattpad account have the most up-to-date archives of my work.

My writing (for all my fics and oneshots)

My oneshots (for all my oneshots not listed here)

My stuff (for all my fics, oneshots, game photos and posts)

Gibby | Prim | Missy | the bar girl (for specific characters)

ACVASverse (for all writing and posts relating to the stories set within the A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet universe)

Multi-Chapter Fics

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

In which, against the wishes of his staunchly pure-blood supremacist family, Ominis Gaunt befriends you, a naive Muggle-born Hufflepuff, and his life inexplicably changes. Or, what happens when a pure-blood from an anti-Muggle family falls in love with a Muggle-born?

[Ominis/Reader (Gibby), T-Rated, 127k, complete] A retelling-turned-original-story from Ominis’ POV that expands his role in the main questlines and beyond. Parallels his life story with relevant flashbacks.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, comas, trauma, blood/injury, grief/death, torture, magical prejudice/ racism.

[Tumblr masterlist] [Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🍺🖤This Hell We Create

The freckled stranger has been visiting your pub for three months now, drinking to forget the worst times. You might be the person he needs to remember the best.

[Sebastian/Reader (the bar girl), E-rated, 19k, ongoing] A short series following a Muggle barmaid and the freckled stranger who visits her pub every night. Trigger warnings vary per chapter. Completely unrelated to the ACVASverse.

Tropes: angst/ drama/ romance, eventual smut, wizard x Muggle, different worlds, dark secret, Magic from a Muggle POV, oblivious to magic.

Trigger warnings: alcoholism, coarse language, non-explicit sexual assault, dementia/ Alzheimer's disease, blood/ injury, gendered language, explicit smut.

[Tumblr masterlist] [Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🐦‍🔥🍰Stay With Me

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring. But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

[Garreth/Reader (Prim), T-rated, 111k, ongoing] A mystery-romcom following sixth-year Garreth Weasley when he is foisted a frosty and lonesome tutor hiding secrets of her own. Can be read entirely independently from ACVAS but does reference some of the events.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, blood/injury.

[Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🥀🔮Shelter of Our Night

After being released from Azkaban for the murder of his uncle four years ago, Sebastian Sallow finally sees his chance to start anew. But when ancient magic starts to corrupt you, the Hero of Hogwarts and his long-time crush, Sebastian and you must face the vengeful spirit of Isidora Morganach, discovering the hard way that the shadows of one’s past never really leave you. Most of the time, in fact… they bite back.

[Sebastian/Reader (Missy), M-Rated, 48k, ongoing] A sequel to the game storyline where Sebastian went to Azkaban and the MC absorbed the Repository – with a piece of Isidora Morganach's soul. Directly follows the events of ACVAS but can be read separately.

Tropes: angst/ drama/ romance, slow burn, mutual pining, lovers in denial, Couples Who Kill Together..., second chance, childhood friends-to-lovers, redemption, dark secret.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, trauma, grief/death, murder, blood/injury, non-explicit smut.

[AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🦡✨Troublesome and Unladylike

In which, your life changes twice in quick succession: the first, when you discover you have magic, and the second, when you meet an enigmatic blind Slytherin.

[Ominis/Reader (Gibby), T-rated, 45k, complete] ACVAS from the Reader's perspective, with all original content and much lighter tone. Recommended after ACVAS, however you can read it separately.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, hijinks and shenanigans, Muggle culture, Magic from a Muggle POV, canon rewrite.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, comas, trauma, torture, magical prejudice/ racism.

[Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

Commissioned Art

👗❤️‍🔥 Garreth & Prim in Potions/ at the Valentine's Ball for Stay with Me [Lyworth]

💥⚡ Sebastian, Missy and Isidora Fight for Shelter of Our Night [yoshitsuno]

🖤🍺 Sebastian at the bar from this hell we create [FlamboyantJelly]

Thanks for checking out my work. You can support me by reblogging and/ or commenting, which are hugely appreciated 💚

[Last Update November 2024] Banner and divider credits: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-]

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER ONE - WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS

series masterlist | chapter two ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, lots of mentions of self deprecation, reader talking about an emotionally exhausting past bf, steve talking shit abt his parents, cursing, steve & reader crushing on each other so mutual pining, lots of sweetness and fluff <3

summary: you make friends with a girl named Robin who politely and hilariously mistakes some red paint on your jeans as blood. Who knew it would lead to you and her becoming friends and her inviting you to meet her other ones? The even bigger mystery is how her best friend, Steve, is starting to become someone you’re falling for.

Steve Harrington’s living room was packed. Not that it was particularly out of the ordinary since his place was the go-to spot for hangouts, but today it had been packed for a different reason and a new arrival. Though it seemed Robin was the only uneasy person even when she was the one who had begged for this to happen.

Trying to cope, she began fluffing up the couch pillows and straightening the books on the coffee table while she rambled. 

“She’s cool. I mean, she paints, for one, like totally realistic paintings, but she also really loves baking!”

Mike rolled his eyes, puffing dramatically and deciding to take a flop down on the couch where she just tidied up, “She sounds like my grandma.” 

“Piss off!” Robin hissed, smacking his knee as the rest of their friends watched on at the repartee. 

Steve was the skeptical one about the whole situation, considering what could happen if Robin’s new friend wasn’t entirely who she was supposed to be. It’s not that he didn’t trust Robin’s whole intuition about people, but you seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy because the person Robin described to all of them for the past few weeks was pure perfection.

Even everyone else was beginning to question if meeting at Steve’s house for the first time was a good idea, realizing that you could be a creep or a murderer, but they were just being a tad bit dramatic. Before he could think too much into it than he already was, the doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention and eyes that darted towards the front door.

“I’ll get it!”

Robin clapped her hands excitedly, darting to the door and unlocking it with vigor before opening it wide enough so she and everyone else could get a good look at you. 

You stood in the doorway with a big smile and your hands full. One balancing a bright yellow ceramic dish on your palm, and your other arm busy holding a covered frame between your body. 

You wore a white skirt, decorated with itty bitty eyelets that resembled a daisy cutout and a white top with the same pattern to match. A brown shoulder bag draped across your chest and a pair of strappy sandals on your feet. 

Only when you inched forward, meeting cheek to cheek with Robin, in an endearing hello, did they finally get a good glance at what you looked like.

Bright eyes, wispy lashes, and lids covered in the tiniest amount of sheer glitter. A glow from within on your cheeks and high points, like the sun and pretty pink petals were rushing to the surface of your skin. Dewy lips coated in gloss and flickers of sparkles that shined through your smile that you wore throughout the interaction.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth and the first time they had heard your voice. 

Robin shook her head, opening the door wider and prompting you in, “don’t be!”

You looked around in curiosity, taking in the architecture and feel of the home before being greeted with a few smiles and waves from the strangers around the living room.

You returned it, though it never really dared to leave your face to begin with. Softly speaking out a few, “hi’s” and “hello’s” to them before turning towards Robin and holding out a big frame towards her.  

“Happy Birthday!” You declared gleefully as she stared at you confused.

The rest of her friends murmuring something about possibly forgetting her birthday, just as puzzled as her. 

She stuttered, trying to recall if she might have told you the wrong date or something, “I-It’s not my birthday?” 

Your cheek met your shoulder shrewdly, once again pushing the gift towards her, “I know! But I wanted an excuse to give you this.” 

You juggled the canvas into your hands, trying your best not to drop the pie pan. Robin reached her hands out, taking the pie from you as you flashed her a thankful smile, pulling the cover off the canvas to present her with a small gift of gratitude. 

“Tah-Dah!” You singsonged, turning the canvas towards her and watching the shock and amazement that covered her face before a wide smile appeared followed by the “oh’s” and “ah’s” of her friends that you completely forgot about.

Robin spun her arms to the left of her, hastily handing the pie to Steve who took it and placed it on the coffee table. The front entrance of his home, now the new crowded spot as everyone marveled at the artwork. He quickly joined in, not wanting to miss an ounce of it, finding an open spot between you and Robin. 

He took it all in, eyes fixed on the print that was gushing with blossoms of her favorite colors: sage green, mauve, and pale yellow. But it wasn’t an ordinary painting—the petals were formed with dollops of the paint, and it probably took days to dry. It was rare, something that he and the others had never seen before. 

His fingers brushed the paint petals, careful not to mess up your handwork,“This is incredible….” 

Flickering his gaze to you, he flashed you a toothy smile, letting his hand pull back from the canvas and stick out towards you.

“I’m Steve, by the way.” He extended his arm, making a sweeping gesture to catch your attention.

Tearing your eyes away from Robin’s heartwarming reaction, your sights drifted to the hand, then to the owner of it, instantly captivated by his friendliness and allure. Your stare lingered a bit too long, lost in trying to memorize him, so you shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the trance you fell into. 

“Oh, sorry! It’s nice to meet you!” Quickly you handed the entire piece to Robin, adverting your full attention to the new acquaintance whose house you just barged into. 

You knew just from the looks of it that he was Steve Harrington, the guy that Robin had described to you as being her insanely attractive yet idiotic best friend.

His hair, like Robin had described, was unquestionably perfect, falling into place as if he didn’t even try. Robin let you in on a secret that he was infamously called “King Steve” throughout high school for being so good with the ladies—now you were sure you knew why.

He chuckled when you grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it with vigor like how a father would but without the cynical look on your face. Instead, you looked genuinely thrilled, twinkling eyes and a broad smile gracing your lips. 

“Great to finally meet you. Robin’s been yapping all week about her new friend.” 

You laughed quietly, finally letting go of his hand and reaching over to sling your arm across Robin’s shoulder. She leaned into you, nuzzling her head against yours with a content look on her radiant face.

“Well, she’s been raving about all of her friends, so I just knew I had to meet you all.” 

Robin smirked, finally giving you a hug and murmuring a curt thank you for the generous gift and turning to all of her friends while keeping you close to her side. 

“Everyone, this is my new friend. I met her last week and now we’re attached to the hip!” Robin announced, her voice carrying a mix of affection and playful teasing.

Steve feigned a gasp, holding a hand over his heart, “Replacing me already?”

“Oh shut up, dingus!” Robin reached forward, whacking him with her palm as he yelped and pretended to be offended. 

A curly-headed boy sporting a baseball cap stepped forward, “Ignore those two, they’re literal children…I’m Dustin!”

You reached your hand out, shaking his before casually everyone began introducing themselves to you. 

Part of you was trying to remember each name connected to a face, but it was also a tad bit overwhelming with so many of them. Making friends was never an easy task for you, but you liked your own solitude, so you didn’t mind. But that also didn’t mean you didn’t long to have friends who you could talk to or hang out with from time to time and share your life with. 

So when Robin tapped you on the shoulder at the grocery store to inform you your period had arrived you were visibly horrified but relieved that she offered you her jacket as you two found the restroom. And in the bathroom you let out a ridiculous laugh, covering your mouth as she stared at you in the mirror’s reflection confused. 

“Red paint! This is paint! I must have sat on it or something!” 

You and Robin hit it off, talking for what seemed like hours inside that grocery store bathroom. The two of you had a habit of over sharing, but it helped you bond and grow closer. After exchanging numbers and spending afternoons on the phone talking and getting to know each other better , she invited you over to a hangout with her friends.

“You guys must have scared her or something.” Robin shook you a bit in her hold to grab you away from a little daydream.

You blinked, looking over at her, then back to her friends watching until you came through, “sorry! sorry! I zone out sometimes…I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. She does it all the time.” Steve pointed at Robin who stuck her tongue out at him. 

Nancy, the brunette who you remembered as one of the kids’ older sister, stepped forward hooking her arm inside yours, “Okaaaay, here, why don’t you come sit?”

She wore a warm smile and guided you further into the living room. Her touch was gentle, and the gesture alone made you feel like she was happy to have you here, easing a bit of your anxiety. When she unhooked her arm from yours, you mouthed a “thank you,” and she shook it off, just smiling and patting the empty seat beside her. 

You placed your purse down on your lap, while Robin sat on the other side of you. The rest of the friends finding their own area on the opposite couch or on the floor, making you feel less suffocated and more like an inviting circle. 

“Robin tells us that you’re mega cool!” Dustin exclaims followed by a thwack on the head by the red head Max and her boyfriend Lucas who sports the bucket hat. 

Timidly, you swung your head low, feeling a mix of bashfulness and gratitude for her words when you weren’t around. You glanced towards Robin, who beamed with pride because she genuinely thought you were the coolest person she had ever met—probably even on the planet. 

“I don’t think I’m cool…like at all.” You admitted, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

Robin rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friends then looking back at you, “She’s too humble, I mean really, she is so super duper cool and I’m shocked she’d even consider being my friend.” 

Jokingly, you nudged her, making her laugh, “Don’t sell yourself short, Robin—“ 

Before you could continue uplifting the spirts of self esteem, the boy with the unruly hair…Mick? Mike! 

Mike cuts in, eyes zeroing in on your torso where you begin to follow. 

“What’s that on your shirt?” He squinted, pointing at the recent stains on your top. 

Peeping your eyes down and looking meticulously, the stain was barely noticeable unless someone was really looking—anyway, the white color was a bit off from the shade of your actual top, and there had been some sort of residue left. 

Nancy realized it at first, seeing that the stain couldn’t be seen to the naked eye, unless her brother was being a disgusting little shithead. She swiftly grabbed the decorative pillow behind her, chucking it towards him.

“You’re such a pig, Mike!” 

Everyone switched their attention from you, and instead pestered and teased Mike for being so “observant” with you here in a spaghetti strap top.

But you attempted to stifle your laughter, not wanting him to feel so embarrassed despite his sudden interjection. You were hoping he wasn’t being a stereotypical depraved teen who couldn’t focus when your shoulders were out.

Instead, you attempted to swipe at it with your fingertips, but alas it didn’t budge and stubbornly clung to the fabric, “ It’s just paint and apparently…” You tugged the portion closer to your nose, scrunching it up, “Sugar. Powdered sugar.” 

The young boy almost looked impressed at your ability to articulate the specific ingredient despite the verbal onslaught he had just faced. “Sick.” 

Robin clicked her tongue, jutting her chin out toward Steve who sat across from you in a recliner. 

“Steve, give her something to change into,” she told him, prompting him to sit up, looking at you and instantly nodding. 

“Yeah, of course, follow me,” He motioned you to follow his lead as he stood up, yet you remained sitting, tipping your head slightly up at him.

You raised one of your brows, “Are you sure? I’m totally ok with it. It’s my fault, anyway.” 

“I’m sure…c’mon, it’s the least I could do.” Steve nodded again, waving his arm towards himself, and you got up.

Trailing behind Steve up the stairs, you marveled at the simplicity of the home despite its expanse. The wallpaper was a muted gray with cream accents and walls encasing the space leading up were decorated with a few framed photographs that you assumed were Steve and his family.

From what Robin had told you, his parents weren’t home too often, if at all, which explained why the photos were outdated and mostly from his childhood, having no evidence of recent portraits.

The hallway towards the bedrooms had a running rug across the wooden floors. The fuzzy textile felt worn yet homey against your feet. Steve’s bedroom was located at the end of the hall, and when he opened up the door, you seemed to feel more of his personality shining in that space. 

“Ignore the mess.” He apologized, twisting open the door to let you in first.

In contrast to the living room and main quarters of the house, his room felt more like himself. 

The wallpaper in his room, plaid with white, green, and black accents and, of course, matching curtains. His bed was somewhat neatly made with the pillows fluffed and gray sheets on the mattress. A few drawers to hold what you assumed were part of his closet and other belongings.

But his desk, which looked to be the most messy yet contained spot of his room, littered with tapes, books, and other papers. The only thing hanging on his wall was a photo of a vintage car that you couldn’t name for the life of you. 

You turned your head to look at him, where he stood, watching you taking in the space with a grin,“You’re actually really neat…neater than I am.” 

Steve let out a grunt, chuckling to himself as he turned to his accordion wardrobe doors and opened them in search of finding you something without a stain. It didn’t help that he had forgotten to do a fresh load of laundry, but that the rest of his clean shirts were polos and hoodies. 

“So are you from Hawkins?” He wondered, sifting through the hangers. 

“No, I’m from Roane, actually! I only really come to Hawkins for the art store but last weekend I decided to run my errands here since I was already in town and that’s how I met Robin.”

You explained, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your shirt between the stain still trying to get it out.

Steve plucked a hoodie from the rack, holding it up in front of you, trying to decipher its comfort. The fabric was way too thick, and he was certain that in this Hawkins weather you’d be drowning in not only a puddle of fleece but sweat too.

Shaking his head, he gave you an apologetic glance that you didn’t seem to catch.

“You live alone?” He planted the item back on the hanger and continued to look. 

“Yeah, but I actually used to live with my boyfriend…or ex-boyfriend now,” You clarified, giving up on the stubborn stain and sighing, “we were together for a little while but he just decided things weren’t working out and so he left.” 

He looked back briefly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, “How many years were you guys together…if you don’t mind me asking.” 

You shook your head, reassuring him that it was alright, “Six years.” 

The widening of his eyes made you giggle, but it wasn’t unexpected considering someone your age having a relationship that long wasn’t typically normal.

“Excuse me? Six years! I don’t even think I’ve had a single friend stay in my life for six years.” 

“Seems like a lifetime, right?” You joked with a comical lift to your voice and he nodded like it was the obvious answer, which it was. 

He knew that you both weren’t too far apart in age, both in your early twenties, but it was just shocking to hear that you were in a six year relationship at your age. The longest relationship he had was a year with Nancy Wheeler and even then that seemed like forever, but you must have really fallen deeply in love with your ex if you lasted that long. 

“We kinda just grew out of each other.  It’s kinda inevitable after dating all four years of high school then two years after that. We just realized that we wanted different things in life and by different, he wanted me to “finally start taking life seriously,” or whatever the fuck that meant.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, making air quotes with your fingers.

So that explains it, he thought to himself.

“He wanted to move out of Indiana?” Steve questioned, turning his attention back to his closet. 

You made a noise, unsure if that fully answered his question. But you moved up beside him, silently asking if it was okay to help him sift through the hangers. Nodding, he shifted over, giving you space to look through the untouched hangers.

You went back to his question, giving him an actual answer, that you hoped would sum up the story that was way too long to tell in whole. 

“Not necessarily…but he just didn’t like the fact that art was not only my hobby, but my passion. He always wanted me to get a real job, you know, those boring ones where you sit at a desk all day and think about what you did so wrong in your past life to be doing paperwork for the rest of it.” 

His eyes followed as your face contorted with revulsion as if that was one of the most heinous jobs in the world, but for someone like you who thrived off creative free rein, it truly was. Steve threw his head, laughing at your expression, finding it truly amusing because for someone like him, he also realized that even if he was a lost young adult, he’d much rather keep working at a VHS store than walk into work everyday wearing an uncomfortable suit and dozing off in meetings. 

His amusement turned your scorned face upside down, abruptly reeling in the fact that he actually found what you said to be funny. And you hoped that he wasn’t being overdramatic just to make you feel better, but you were positive that it wasn’t because it was the type of laughter that had the skin by his eyes creased because of how hard he was laughing—even his arm slinging over his torso, like the laughter was so infectious that it hurt. 

The sound of his hilarity, leaping off the walls of his room like music to your ears, wishing you possessed the ability to always make people laugh this freely, just to witness moments like this. Eventually, though, he settled down, snapping his fingers at you and pointing with a still carefree smile on his lips. 

“That was a good one! Now I’ve gotta use that when my dad keeps bugging me about getting a real job.” He praised, finally turning back the original spot in his closet and plucking it off the rod.

It was a bright yellow long sleeve, the fabric not too thick or thin, but just about right. You reached for the sleeve of it, feeling the material between your fingers, and Steve’s eyes waited for your approval. 

“Feels nice.” You said with a nod, dropping it from your fingertips and letting him slide the garment off the plastic hanger before placing it in your hands. 

He glanced back at the bedroom door, then back to you, “I’ll wait outside the door so you can change.” He offered, letting himself out and closing it behind him.

Inside the room, Steve could hear the soft rustling as you moved, wondering if what he gave you was good enough or if you were being too nice and not wanting to offend him by saying the yellow color was awful. Meanwhile, you placed your top on the lid of his hamper, making a mental note to come back here and retrieve it before you headed back home. 

His voice came through on the other side of the door, breaking the brief silence.

“Sooo…your ex-boyfriend. I’m sure he was a computer science major, right? Totally douchey with a superiority complex?” 

You snorted, pulling the garment over your body and slipping your arms through the sleeves. “You think computer science is douchey?” 

He leaned up against the door frame, humming a reply and then finding the words.

“Yeah, totally, I mean nothing screams douchey than a guy who thinks he’s better than someone because he works with computers and not a paintbrush.” 

Your movements slowed as you pulled your hair free from the collar and fitted the excess material underneath itself so it wasn’t drowning over you. 

There was suddenly that fond pleasant feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and in the cage of your chest. When Robin had mentioned that Steve was charming, she wasn’t kidding. There was no reason he should have this much of an effect on you so soon. Yet, here he was, effortlessly tearing down your ex-boyfriend and making you feel better about your own endeavors. 

After a few seconds of taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you reached for the doorknob, turning it open to see his body supported by the one arm propped against the wooden frame. You bit your lip, watching his gaze fall down your face to his shirt on your body. 

“Then I’d say you’re right…you guessed it,” Your arms flared out before coming down to your sides, standing there not knowing what else to say considering he had hit the nail head-on. 

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes since he met you, this was the only time you seemed so sheepish. Out in the living room you looked so confident, even when it was obvious that the attention towards you was a little overwhelming, you still could change the subject or revert it somewhere else. Here with your eyes glued to your feet, not meeting him, he felt like you were trapped — that he might have said something that hit a little too close to home and made you uncomfortable. 

His eyes softened, clearly full of regret for being so upfront about a situation he only knew surface level stuff about. Just because you had talked to him a little about the horrible stuff your ex said, didn’t mean he understood the whole story. That there clearly was something deeper, possibly trauma that he didn’t know about and here you were forced to endure the awkward silence and flooding memories of what had happened all because he couldn’t shut up. 

Your view of your feet against the wooden floor was suddenly interrupted by Steve’s hands reaching forward, accompanied by his voice.

“I—I’m sorry, for bringing it up…I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything! I-It’s just, he sounds like a total dick and you should know that what he told you isn’t true—“ 

He spoke rapidly, stumbling over his words and making short pauses, making sense because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy. 

You furrowed your brows, snapping your eyes up to his.

“No, no! You’re fine, it’s just that, no one has really said that stuff about him…about him being an asshole. And…I don’t know, it kinda feels nice to hear.”

Underneath your reassuring expression, your lips twitched up and Steve swore you were about to burst into a full on prideful smirk because of the jabs he took at your ex. So his words indeed took you aback, but in a good way.

He validated your feelings about your past relationship and suddenly there was a shift in the mood, and Steve closed his eyes, taking a relieved breath, grateful that he hadn’t scared you away with that conversation.

Meanwhile, you laughed softly to yourself, feeling a rush of giggles bubble up in your chest, seeing him relax under your certainty.

He opened his eyes, looking at you, trying to look stone-faced, “But, seriously, he’s sounds like a huge asshole,” He couldn’t help the cackle that escaped through his lips, breaking his solemn face, followed by you pushing a hand out and pressing his shoulder gingerly. 

“The hugest! I’m being so serious!” You added, only making the two of you laugh harder, not caring to contain it in the small space between the bedroom and the hallway. 

A simple moment in time was all you needed to know that Steve was genuinely a good guy, not just a pretty face with an idiotic mind attached to him. As the laughter died down, Steve stepped back, holding his hand out and gesturing you into the hallway with him and back down the stairs where you two were met with the noise of your friends chatting in the living room. 

Robin slapped a hand over her forehead once the two of you came into view, earning a raised eyebrow from you and Steve, both of whom stopped a few feet into the area. She exaggeratedly dropped her hand to her side, feigning exasperation.

“What’s the matter?” You crossed your arms across your chest, looking genuinely troubled and waiting for an explanation. 

All eyes turned to you and Steve now, grunts and smothered laughs coming from everyone, while you guys both stood there, oblivious to their reactions. Dustin, unable to contain himself, started convulsing with laughter and clutching his stomach, even going as far as to throw himself into Mike’s lap before getting shoved off.

Then he stood up in front of both of you, pointing an accusing finger at Steve’s shirt he lent you. 

“What did you do to make him hate you so much that he gave you that horrid shirt?”

His face twisted in disgust, and he mockingly gagged, sticking out his tongue and dramatically turning away. Steve should’ve seen this one coming. He swatted Dustin’s hand away from you, shaking his head with a playful scowl. Then placed his hands on his hips, adopting a father-like pose, something else they also teased him for.

He had worn the long sleeve a couple of times before, and each time he did, everyone poked fun at him. Commenting on the revolting color, comparing it to poop or vomit instead of the ground seed condiment he claimed it paralleled, according to the saleswomen at Macy’s who convinced him enough to buy it. And now that’s why he stopped wearing it, growing tired of the kids, but especially Robin and Eddie, calling him ‘Baby Poop Harrington’ in the middle of Star Court and Family Video.

“You guys just don’t get fashion,” Steve argued, raising his eyebrows and forehead toward the others in an unconvincing manner. He fanned his arm, gesturing at you.

“It’s mustard, and it clearly looks good on her.”

The compliment was sudden, causing your eyes to enlarge somewhat and cheeks to blush. You hoped that no one caught it, being too busy to notice you looking downward at the shirt pretending to examine it in order to play it off when in fact you were rubbing your lips together to stop the smile from rising with your cheeks.

The banter continued to go on, which made you relieved, as you were able to get some composure and flicker your sights back up to everyone else arguing with Steve. Eddie huffed out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head where he lounged on the opposite couch. He pointedly stared at you and the outfit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Nobody said it doesn’t look good on her. We just said the color isn’t very pretty.”

Nancy tilted her head, observing you and the shirt closely. Her eyes widened in realization, and she nodded in agreement.

“Actually, it does look really good on you. Maybe the styling was the issue.” She glanced at Steve with a grimace before waving it off and marveling at the color.

Steve raised his voice, as if trying to convince them through sheer volume. “I wore it with blue sweatpants!”

“Exactly!” the group chorused, their voices overlapping in mock protest.

You couldn’t help but snort out a short laugh, finding the entire situation amusing. You exchanged glances with Steve, realizing that this was obviously a very passionate but lighthearted topic within the friend group, kinda like their own inside joke.

Steve ignored the rest of the laughter and teasing, falling back into his comfortable recliner as you sat yourself back in between Nancy and Robin.

Lucas, the one seated next to the redhead who was his girlfriend, tapped his fist on the coffee table. “Can we cut into the pie? It smells delicious, and it’s been calling my name for the past thirty minutes.”

You nodded excitedly, rubbing your hands together, “Sure, it’s cherry by the way, so hopefully you all like that!” Your hands fell into your lap, looking over at Steve.

“I just need a knife to cut into it and some plates and forks.” 

Steve rose up, giving you a nod, “I’ll go get it,” he said before walking through the archway into what you assumed was the kitchen. 

The kids had gathered around the coffee table, smelling the air to get a whiff of the baked good you had spent the whole morning baking, and even Eddie got up from his relaxed state to push the kids aside and get a smell. 

You felt a little bad seeing as though Steve had already gone out of his way to open up his home to you and then lend you clothing after a mishap that was entirely your fault, yet you were still sitting here, not helping. 

You looked over at Robin, patting her knee smoothly, “I’ll go help Steve.” 

Before you could stand up, she grasped onto your wrist, waving the other in the air, signing off that he could handle it alone, “He’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

But of course you insisted with a reassuring laugh, feeling her touch drop your hand, as you got up. “No, it’s fine, I really should!” 

Before she could protest or take your spot, you were already striding away, following into the archway that Steve had just gone through. His back was facing you, arms reaching into the cupboard to grab a stack of plates that clinked together. 

“Let me help,” you announced your presence with eagerness, walking up beside him. 

He looked over at you, relaxing his arms back down,“Hey, no, you're not supposed to be helping!” 

Your fingers tugged the bottom of his borrowed long sleeve, the fabric dancing between your fingers as you shot him a mischievous smirk, “Oh, c’mon, it’s the least I could do.”

He smiled at your mocking tone having no choice but to give in, “Fine, but just this once,” pretending to let out an exasperated sigh like you were a nuance, when in fact you weren’t. 

He nodded his chin to the set of drawers where the utensils were prompting you to grab the needed amount of forks while he gathered the remainder of the plates.

“Does it ever get lonely living alone?” He asked, voice carrying a hint of interest, while shutting the cupboard and walking to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a knife.

“Hmmm,” You thought for a second, shrugging as you bumped your hip into the drawer, shutting it gently.

“Sometimes, but I’ve grown pretty used to it. There’s some positives like not feeling so bad when you forget to start the dishwasher.” 

He chuckled, grunting an agreement for the simple joys that living along could bring, but he also wondered about the negatives, “And the cons?” 

Your heart skipped a beat already knowing the answer right off the top of your head because it was something that ate away at your heart every day. Leaving and coming home to the same space, roaming the halls and rooms—all of yours but only yours, the kind that was lonely.

“Not having someone you can go home to, or at least looking forward to coming to.” You confessed with a frown. 

Steve sympathized, knowing that feeling all too well considering the home life he had been living since he was a teenager. Left alone with no parents around to really parent him in the first place, there was a fine line between being a teen and also being the adult to make the house a home. 

He’d try to, even when his parents were away on trips, doing a load of dishes and laundry. Cleaning out the overgrown weeds in the yard. Vacuuming and mopping the floors. All of this in hopes that when his parents did come home and see how it had been maintained, that maybe they’d want to stay home and spend time with their son. 

But alas, that meant nothing to them. If anything, it proved his parents’ thoughts that Steve was more than capable of being home all by himself. Making the home even emptier that it already was knowing that his parents would purposefully be gone longer now. 

“Y’know, it’s nice having this house all to myself, but it gets lonely too. My uh—my parents aren’t really home much, my mom follows my dad on all his work trips…kinda making sure he doesn’t cheat on her or something.” 

He let out a dry laugh while you cringed, expecting that it is in fact a joke, but he continues letting you know it isn’t.

“Anyway, ummm, it’s nice and all being able to throw parties and invite people whenever, but sometimes I just wished there was more here.” 

Looking around the room, he gestured all around and exhaled, “Like family dinners where we actually talk or even just coming home from work and seeing my parents watching tv on the couch. I swear, I haven’t seen them sit in the living room or turn on the tv since I was like twelve.” 

Placing the forks on the stack of plates, you turned apologetically to him, resting a comforting hand on his arm, seeing the way his face fell and his voice wavered on the edge between resentment and misery. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You withdrew, apologizing, though none of this was your fault. 

Steve cleared his throat with a hoarse cough, swinging his head. Placing the knife down on the plates, as he ran his hand down his face, “No, don’t apologize, it’s stupid. I should be grateful they left me with a house to myself, right?” 

He let out a laugh, as if that was going to make you feel any better for the way that he was feeling. Robin only mentioned little about the absence of Steve’s parents, and you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but it made you feel for him. For how lonesome it must be for him to be estranged from the people who gave him life, yet left him under their roof and pretended like he didn’t exist. 

You, however, made the choice to live alone. After you graduated high school, you hightailed it out of your parents’ house and got a lease to your now apartment all by yourself. It wasn’t until a few months later that your then boyfriend moved in, but still after the breakup you got to keep the place all to yourself, which was valuable in a lot of ways. 

But it was also sad.

You didn’t have many friends that you kept in touch with from high school. If anything, they weren’t really the nicest nor supportive types of friends that you wanted to keep anyways. They agreed with your ex that you had to start taking life seriously and cease pursuing art, but you never listened to them. So maybe it was better off to live alone in your own seclusion rather than just keeping them around for company. 

In spite of those not so kind friends of that past, things felt a lot different with the group that you met today. Like you could let your walls down and finally open up the door.

Your finger twiddled against one another, letting out a proposition, “M-Maybe you can come to my place and hangout? All of you…I mean!” 

You were crossing your fingers that he didn’t catch the slip up that made it sound like you only wanted him to come over. 

His hands stop at his jaw, fanning over the skin there, before turning slightly towards you with a surprised look on his face. 

“Really?” 

You nodded eagerly, “I haven’t had guests around for a while and I would really love for you—you guys to come and visit.” 

There was that slip again, but Steve was too engrossed to catch it. 

“I would love—“ 

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long!?”

The holler coming from the living room burst that bubble between you and Steve, ultimately making you giggle when he groaned heavily, muttering an, “I’m so sorry about them,” to you while you shook your head and followed behind him while he grabbed the kitchenware. 

“You guys were taking forever!” Mike wailed, making Steve roll his eyes as you gave a gentle laugh at his impatience. 

“We were barely gone two minutes.” Steve replied, placing the plates down on the table while you carefully grabbed the knife. 

“It’s my fault. I was talking to Steve about having you guys over sometime.” You said, looking up at the boy before making the first cut into the pie. 

Robin gasped behind you, clapping her hands ecstatically, “Oh my gosh, please! Steve and I are off on Thursday!”

She turned towards Steve, looking at him dubiously. “We’re off on Thursday, right?” 

“Yeah,” He snickered, nodding his head as he slid you a plate to lay the first slice on. 

Steve picked up the plate, giving it to El just to spite the impatient Mike who sat beside her and groaned until you finished cutting the next slice which was given to Lucas. So you continued to cut as Steve served everyone. 

“Jonathan and I have a half day on Thursday, so we should be able to swing by during the afternoon.” Nancy spoke before digging into her slice. 

The last two slices remained as everyone dug into their portion while you plated it up. Passing Steve a plate, “You first.” You said quietly with a smile.

He grinned, thanking you with a nod before taking a seat on the recliner. You got yourself the last plate, scooting back towards your original seat. 

“Where do you guys work?” You looked towards Nance and Jonathan.

He swallowed his piece before speaking. “Hawkins Post. I work on photography and she writes.” his fork pointed to her before she nodded and continued. 

“Technically, we’re still interning, but we’re hoping to secure a permanent job once our internship is up.” She told you as you nodded your head. 

“That’s cool! Roane has a weekly paper, but it’s usually just filled with the same political crap about our Mayor trying to drive out local businesses and replace them with big chain stores.” You said wistfully, shaking your head. 

She chewed faster, murmuring out a reply before she was able to respond with actual words.

“Our Mayor, Mayor Kline, is actually doing the same thing! Jonathan and I have been begging to do a story about it to help save the mom-and-pop businesses, but our boss Tom,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head with annoyance, “he agrees with the Mayor and totally shuts us down every time.” 

You pouted, placing down your untouched plate, and placing a warm hand on her shoulders, “God, I bet you they’re such assholes…I wish I could help, but seriously, if at any point you guys do figure out a way to make it happen, I’ll be happy to help any way I can.” 

Your voice was somehow sweeter than the pie that Steve was scarfing down as he watched and listened on. Everyone was too busy in their own conversations to care about the one you and Nancy were having, but not him, though he was more so focused on you. He just hoped he didn’t look like a sloppy toddler that was too distracted to realize food was all over his mouth.

Steve was just so enamored by your grace and everything that was new to him. 

He noticed the way your eyes would trickle over with all of these different sentiments while Nance confided in you about the struggles at Hawkins Post. But he assumed this was just how you usually were, a part of you, so invest in people and wanting them to know that they could talk to you and you would do your bestest to give your deepest empathy.

Only one thing he couldn’t understand was how anyone, let alone your ex-boyfriend, let go of someone who was as pure and generous as you. Steve Harrington was sure, even after only meeting you today, that you were the sweetest person he had ever had the honor of encountering. That if he really knew you were too good to be true like this, he would’ve begged Robin to invite you sooner.

“Can I have your slice if you’re not going to eat it?” Dustin’s voice broke in, his plate already finished with only crumbs left behind.

Tearing your gaze away from Nancy and switching to the boy who looked on at your untouched plate on the table. You grinned, leaning forward to push the plate closer to him, “Go crazy, I’m not hungry, anyway.” 

So not only were you kind, you were also patient—Steve was making a mental list without even realizing it and knowing what for.

Here you were giving up your slice for the little teenage twerp that just insulted the top you were borrowing only a few minutes ago. If Steve were in your shoes, he’d tell the little shit to think about making fun of mustard again before thinking he’d give up a slice of his pie for him, but then again, you weren’t Steve and you definitely weren’t an asshole. 

“Dude, let her have her slice!” Eddie chastised with a mouth full of cherries and pie pastry. 

Max flicked him on the head with a grunt. “Yeah Dusty, no wonder Suzie broke up with you.” 

Dustin glared, pulling your plate to him, “Oh shut up, I told you me and Suzie are perfectly fine and still together!” he hissed, not hesitating to take a bite of his pie. 

You shifted yourself to face forward, eyes on the kids who were thoroughly not convinced about Dustin’s so-called girlfriend. 

“Suzie?” You spoke curiously, “Does she live in Hawkins?” 

They all shook their heads, and Dustin spoke with a full mouth, but still you could hear him clearly. “She lives in Utah! Her family is crazy Mormon though, so I can only call during certain hours to speak to her through my Cerebro.” 

Your eyes widened, “Cerebro? Like from X-Men?” 

“You know X-Men?” the kids all shouted. 

You laughed, nodding your head undoubtedly. “I only have a few, but X-Men #7 is one of my favorites.” 

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was mega cool.” Dustin’s eyes darted to Robin’s, which made you laugh.

“So tell me more about Cerebro.” 

Honestly, it was hard for any of the kids to find other people who understood or got them the way that their older siblings and friends did. It’s mainly the reason why their friend group was so small and tight-knit in the first place and they’d be lying to say they weren’t the first to oppose the idea of bringing in a new person to the group.

But you seemed genuinely engrossed in the kids’ lives, not just instinctively nodding your head and humming so that they could feel like you cared, but you really did. Asking questions about Dustin’s summer camp where he and Suzie met and finding it quite adorable that he would go out of his way to build something to speak to a girl on the other side of the country.

Halfway through your conversation with the kids, Steve got up, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding you something to eat, seeing as though Dustin took hostage of your food. It didn’t help that he absolutely sucked at cooking and had nothing in his fridge to offer you other than a coke which definitely wouldn’t make up for your pie loss. 

With his back turned to the fridge, he could feel a presence behind him, trying to be quiet, yet failing, and he knew it was you, or at least thought it was because of the earlier instance.

“I thought I told you that you were a guest and you should be enjoying yourself in the—what the fuck Robs!”

She cackled, hunched over laughing to herself once Steve finally turned around and noticed it was, in fact, not you but her. 

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on me like that!” He crossed his arms over his chest at Robin who was trying to settle down. 

“You’re so gullible! Like I wasn’t even trying! I was just trying to see what you were up to and you thought that I was her!” She laughed maniacally, failing to contain herself. 

“Yeah, I came in here to try to find something she can eat, seeing as though Dustin lacks consideration and didn’t think to ask if she ate anything before coming here.” He sighed, turning around and opening back up the fridge, like something would magically appear before his eyes. 

Robin calmed down, nudging him away from the refrigerator so that she could get a look. Her fingers instantly pulled open one of the drawers where the fresh fruit that were barely touched were.

“This will do.” She grabbed an apple and orange, passing it off to Steve. 

He raised his brows, “Don’t you think she wants something else?” 

She shook her head. “Nope, she loves fresh fruit! Told me how much she loves them in her salads and how she picks up fresh ones from the market to make sweets and drinks with them.” 

“Fine. Just go back in there and I’ll cut these up.” 

She held her hands up in defense, slightly mocking in a higher pitched voice as she walked backwards, “Oh okay, Chef Harrington, thank you so much for your service to our pretty guest.” 

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard a snicker come from Robin before she fully exited and gave him the kitchen all to himself where he cut and peeled the fruit, neatly placing them on a plate for you. Steve wished you would have snuck in just to get another chance to talk to you alone because he wasn’t quite sure if he could hold a conversation with you when everyone was around.

You didn’t intimidate him per se, but he liked speaking to you one-on-one when there were no idiotic teens around to make him feel weird for asking such silly questions. But you didn’t sneak in, still holding the conversation with the teens as he walked out and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of you.

“Here you go,” Steve announced softly, not wanting to break the conversation.

You looked up at him, seeing the plated fruit slices he had arranged in a circle, “Oh, you didn’t have to! But thank you!”

“No problem.” He grinned, heading back to his seat.

“So what about you?” You turned your gaze towards El, the quiet one of the bunch who sat and listened for the most part. “What do you like to do?” 

“Poetry.” She said faintly, making you smile as you popped an apple slice in your mouth. 

“I used to do a lot of poetry too when I was your age.” You told her, and she looked at you curiously. 

“I have a ton of journals from when I was in high school, but ultimately I think my calling has always been art.” You smiled at her, seeing the way she lit up at that. 

“What did you write about?”

“Typical teenage stuff. Growing up. Strict parents. Bullies. Boys.” 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max cut in. 

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to bring this up, “Umm, well, I uh, y-yeah—well, no yeah! I meant no! I don’t have one! But I used to, but we broke up.” 

“How long were you together?” Mike asked. 

“Stop being invasive, Michael!” Nancy quietly scolded, earning a glare from Mike who paid her no mind and went back to you waiting for an answer. 

“Umm, you know, a really long time, but it was so long ago that—“ 

“Estimate?” Lucas countered. 

You swallowed anxiously, not really wanting to talk about this, but feeling you had to answer before it got awkward, “Like six—“ 

“Jesus, you twerps are nosey. Just let her and El talk about poetry.” Steve surged into the conversation, getting up to retrieve an orange slice from the plate as he ruffled the hair on the teen’s head walking back to his seat in order to play it off.

You took a deep breath through your light-hearted smile, eyes dancing towards him to shoot him a grateful glance for his quick thinking.

The last thing you wanted to talk to the teens about was your tumultuous relationship that came to a world crumbling end. Plus, the teens were in their own relationships. You didn’t want to jeopardize their ideas of their own relationships because of your past one. They were smart and kind, and didn’t need to hear about your ex to know that about themselves. 

Steve didn’t quite know what else your ex did to make you freeze up like this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up in the first place and he had to make up for that, to let you know that he had your back, even when it came to his own friends who were just as innocently curious as him.

He got the chance to peel back a layer of your history in private, something that he knew was a privilege to learn about, but he wouldn’t let you be put on the spot like this when you weren’t ready. 

There was an ease to the room once Steve made it clear that your love life wasn’t up for discussion right now. Everyone just seemed to forget it was even brought up in the first place. El smoothly shifted topics back to poetry and took the moment to ask you if you still wrote from time to time, which you happily gave her the answer to. 

Thankfully, poetry wasn’t the only topic of discussion. 

Eddie had told you about his band Corroded Coffin that played every Tuesday and Sunday at the Hideout Bar where he also worked. The kids had been begging to go to a show in order to see him and his friends live, but since the bar had a very obvious and strict age limit, they’d just have to wait until they were 21. 

Robin finally told you about her and Steve’s creepy manager Keith who had been smuggling R rated tapes from Family Video, which they then used against him in order to get days off whenever they wanted. Things only got funnier when Steve revealed that Keith had accidentally forgotten to switch the tapes back to the original casing, which led to a very angry mother coming in and demanding to speak to the manager when her son had brought home “Star Whores: Attack of the Silicone.” 

At some point, you found yourself excessively laughing with Nancy and Robin while Jonathan reenacted his father, Hopper’s reaction to a stash of weed that he had bought off of Eddie. Hopper actually sounded pretty cool considering he was police chief and didn’t make the boy flush it down the toilet. Instead, just asking for a bit because he wanted to try to make weed brownies. 

You definitely needed to meet him one day and hopefully ask him how the baking process was. 

Lucas, on the other hand, had vented about the captain of the basketball team, Jason, who was a total asshole and didn’t know how to shoot a three pointer to save his life. Max suggested that one of them attack him from behind and break his leg so that Lucas could be the star player for the season.

But somehow Mike had an even more vicious plan, to poison him and take him out for good—but of course he looked at you, with cautious hands held out, “We’re just kidding by the way!” 

To say that you enjoyed yourself this afternoon would be an understatement because, for the first time in forever, it felt as though your social battery wasn’t draining. You would want to spend the rest of the day here in Steve’s living room listening to them talk about their lives and ask you about your mundane one.

But time always went by fast when you were spending it with people who were so fun and carefree, so when you caught the hour on Steve’s clock, you knew you had to get going. 

Everyone gave you a hug, thanking you for stopping by and of course bringing the pie, the same one that they were begging you to bring the next time you would come into Hawkins. And you sure did promise you would. Robin, being the sweet friend she was, attempted to convince you to stay a little while longer, but you knew you had to go, and you’d make it up to her another time—hopefully a girls’ night in the coming weeks. 

Steve was the only one missing from the living room having excused himself to the kitchen a little while earlier to get the dirty dishes done. He even warned everyone to make sure you stayed in your seat and didn’t come in to help him clean up, knowing you would sneak up and try to offer it. After releasing a very tight and giggly hug from Robin, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.

“Steve?” You knocked your fist against the archway, catching his attention as he turned to look over his shoulder. 

“Hey, need something?” He asked, quickly shutting off the faucet and drying his hands on the kitchen towel hanging near the sink. 

You shook your head, gesturing down to your purse slung over your shoulder, “I’m actually heading out now. Gotta get home before rush hour.” 

He stooped dramatically, making you laugh as you offered your most sarcastic yet sincerest apologies for the departure of your presence. 

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He gestured, leading the way while you waved goodbye to everyone in the living room before following Steve out the front door. 

“Thanks again for letting me come over.” You chirped, with your shoulders coming in shyly.

He waved it off, smiling down at you, “It’s no problem, it was really nice meeting you…I can’t wait to come over to your place.” 

“I’m looking forward to it too…I just don’t know if I’ll be half the host that you were.” 

“Don’t, you’re gonna be fine. Drive safe alright?” 

You brushed your hair back behind your ear, nodding as you smiled once more, “I will, see you around Steve.” 

Your arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around his neck, hugging him ardently. Even if you were wearing his clothes, smothered in the scent of his detergent and him, his senses were filled with you.

A bright vanilla aroma coming from you, and with your hair blowing in his face, he could help but drown in it, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to hug you like this. 

But alas, he had to let go, his large hands giving your shoulders a warm one over before finally pulling away and seeing your smiley face. 

He stood by the porch, watching as you got into your car, taking note of every little detail of your movements.

Placing your purse in the passengers and checking the contents making sure you didn’t leave anything behind buckling in. You checked your mirrors while twirling the ends of your hair between your fingers, securing the locks against your back and the chair. After a few seconds, he could hear the gear change and watched as you twiddle your fingers upon the steering wheel, waving one last goodbye as you reversed out of his driveway. 

“See ya…” He mouthed, with a tight smile, waving before you drove off. 

The distance between Hawkins and Roane Country was almost an hour, which gave you a lot of time to think about today and especially wonder about Steve Harrington.

Honest to God, every time you’d catch him in your peripheral, beaming and nodding along at your conversations, you found yourself almost tumbling over your words. He was that distracting, in the best way possible.

There was something endearing about him, perhaps his ability to read your social cues or maybe the fact that he actually showed interest in you and whatever you were talking about. Even if he didn’t get it, you could tell he was listening intently, eyes following you wherever your hands and sights drifted, like a willow bending right to the wind.

You wished you had the guts to strike up a conversation with him in front of everyone else, but you were sure that if you did everyone would take note of how your shyness reached a whole other level with a pretty guy sitting in front of you. Steve was easy to talk to, but you didn’t know if you were easy to react when it came to anything he said.

His words. His smile. His laughter.

All of it trickled with a honey so sweet that it made your stomach ache and blood rush hot. A feeling that was so foreign after all of this time, yet you couldn’t help but want more. To get to talk to him, even if it was just him insulting your ex with low blows because he deserved it.

But his raw emotions. Him letting his guard down. His thoughtfulness.

It exuded the warmth of freshly ground cinnamon, something that had layers to it. Like a punch in the gut that surprised you in a way that was too profound to explain further. He didn’t even hesitate telling you about his parents and how troubling it felt to be given so much from them yet so little at the same time.

It felt like you were throwing a bunch of colors onto a canvas, not knowing where this was headed, maybe off a cliff or down a dead-end street. Or maybe back home with you where everything would be bliss. You could never really tell.

With Steve, it felt different, very complicated.

Perhaps you were getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, his actions weren’t too far fetched from the others who made you feel just as comfortable and made you laugh just as hard. Yet you didn’t feel this way towards Eddie or Robin and definitely not towards Nancy and Jonathan. 

But feelings like these oftentimes just over complicated things, like this very moment right now where you shouldn’t be contemplating this in the first place.

It was too soon to ever know and you could bank on it being counterfeit. Something you’d look back on and laugh at because maybe it was better off with you and Steve being friends, just like everyone else. Nothing more, nothing less, just friends.

The afternoon glow cascaded your kitchen, a soft ochre hue bouncing off your window pane and showering your body in the warmth. Stevie Nicks’ voice sang through the space on your radio while you stirred the florals in the boiling water.

A few knocks echoed through your door, accompanied by various voices that grew louder. Looking over at the time on the microwave, it read “3:12p.m.” in bright neon green lights. 

They were on time. 

“Coming!” you shrieked out, cutting the music and lowering the heat on the stove before you walked over the door, undoing the latch and twisting the lock open.

With a wide grin, you stretched the door open, and their chatter subsided, turning their attention towards you, their eyes glittering with anticipation. 

Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most lavish, but it was undeniably you. Just from the front door alone, your personality was oozing among the space—plants were displayed on a shelf near the door alongside a handmade pottery bowl for keys and small belongings that rested on a small table. 

Straight ahead was your kitchen just as personalized as the entrance. The counters complimented with a delicate flower-patterned backsplash along with wooden cabinets you had stained to wash out the unpleasant color that came with the place originally.

It was so very much you.

“Come in! Come in!” You ushered them with animated welcoming arms. 

The teens stepped through first, peering around as they traveled further into your home. Your living room another lively space with an olive green couch and swinging chair you splurged on and surprisingly hung all by yourself. And of course, unfinished and half-painted canvases decked the walls.

You met cheek to cheek with Robin and Nancy, the same fond welcome you had gotten accustomed to giving to your lady friends. Eddie and Jonathan took you in for a side hug, giving you a smile.

Steve was the last one to enter with a vase carrying a blend of lively flowers in one of his hands. He wore a striped polo, one of the many that you saw hanging in his closet, a pair of blue jeans, Nike’s Cortez’ that was totally his style, and of course his world famous smile.

“I’m so glad you made it.” You murmured, opening your arms as he walked into you and wrapped his arms snuggly across your back.

You squeeze your arms around him affectionately, inhaling the subtle aroma of mint and sandalwood that he wore. Something that you became familiar with since your last interaction where he walked you out to your car and said goodbye to you in the same way he was saying hello. 

Of course, Steve had made it. There was no way he was going to miss it. Not after you graced his home with your presence. If anything, Steve was the one who rushed everyone into Eddie’s van to get here on time to see you.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes flutter open as you both released the hug, yet never stepped back to open the proximity.

“Been looking forward to it all week,” he brought the hand holding the vase up, prompting them towards you with a grin, “…and these are for you.”

You let go, wrapping your fingertips around the glass, admiring the blues, pinks, whites, and greens of the arrangements. Summer flowers, the kind that bloom the entire season before spring comes along and cuts their time too short before winter arrives.

You had been busy for the past couple of weeks that you didn’t even realize that you had forgotten to take a trip to your local florist to pick up some of your favorites, nevertheless Steve’s would suffice.

Closing your eyes, you breathed in the citrusy sweet fragrance from the baby pink peonies in the bunch, then you opened them back up, orbs filled with gratitude as you stared at him.

“Steve, these are beautiful. Thank you!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Unfortunately, none of us are good bakers, so I’m glad you like it.” 

Laughing, you gestured him towards the living room where everyone had already gotten themselves comfortable, while you made a quick pit stop towards the kitchen to place the flowers on the windowsill to get some sunshine. 

Making your way back to everyone you saw Nancy and Jonathan sat on the couch looking worriedly at the teens, “Guys, don’t break anything!”

They both warned in unison, watching as the youngsters made a beeline to the comics and magazines you had lying around on the coffee table. 

“No worries, I break something like every other day in here. Totally klutz!” You assured her with a wave, seeing her take a sigh of relief and Jonathan sending you a gracious nod.

“This place is cooler than you described!” Robin blurted, fidgeting her fingertips against each other as she continued to look around trying to spot some things that she remembered you telling her about over the phone. 

Striding towards the cluttered coffee table, you noticed the kids not having much space to flip the books and magazines. You had spent the entire morning doing laundry and touching up a painting for your upcoming gallery that you had skipped cleaning the mess up before they had arrived. 

You apologized, moving to pick up some paint bottles you had lying around “Sorry it’s a little messy…I was busy all morning,” placing them back in their designated bin underneath the table, while they waved you off, not bothered by the mess at all. 

“Did you paint this today?” Will sought, setting down the comic and shuffling towards the easel where a semi-wet canvas laid. 

You nodded, walking over and standing next to the piece, and holding your hands behind your back shyly.

“It’s supposed to look like the sunset from a few days ago.” 

The sky filled with purple, orange, and yellow tinges to encapsulate the sundown you caught on the drive back to Roane from Hawkins.

“Did you use a photo as a reference?” Mike inquired, squinting his eyes to really take in the detail of the sky and hues used. 

You shook your head, knocking your temple with your finger, “I have a really good photographic memory…once I see something I can usually replicate it when my brush hits the canvas.” 

“How fascinating.” Will murmured, allowing himself to walk along the walls, looking at all your other paintings you had hanging up. 

You clasped your hands together, a genuine sense of respite washing over you as you noticed everyone appearing at ease.

Robin was completely in her own world, fascinated with your overflowing vinyl collection that littered your tv stand.

Nancy and Jonathan were talking softly amongst themselves, smiling as they pointed and admired parts of your apartment, hoping they could have their own one day.

Eddie had taken a seat on the floor, back resting on the couch cushions as he flipped through a comic he picked up.

Steve looked to be just as comfortable, swinging slightly in the hanging chair admiring everyone else, happy that his friends were comfortable in the new space.

You clapped your hands together faintly, just enough for yourself to hear the celebration, “Just feel free to look around! I have a patio over there, but there’s nothing much out there except plants and a little table.”

They looked up to where your finger pointed at the sliding door on the other side of the living room, a cream meshed curtain pulled back to let in the natural sunlight. 

Then, you turned your attention to Eddie, bending down a bit to tap his shoulder and point again at the terrace outside, “Eddie, I put out a small glass dish out there if you wanted to take a smoke, just in case.”

You noticed that he had excused himself to Steve’s backyard in order to take a smoke break, so you figured you get that set up for him just in case.

He flashed you a sincere smile, nodding “Thank you,”

You nodded, patting his shoulder before standing straight and excusing yourself to the kitchen to get things prepared.

Steve didn’t quite know if he was more so appreciating his friends finally opening up to a new place that wasn’t his own or seeing you being so welcoming to people you only met a few days ago. Nevertheless, it felt nice, a little warm feeling inside to know that you were so kind and open to them.

He also didn’t know if it made him a weirdo for wanting to stray wherever you went, getting up to follow you into the kitchen just to get a chance to talk to you without the lingering ears of his friends.

You stood there with one hand on your hip and the other stirring some mixture in the pot before turning off the heat completely.

“What’s this?” his soft voice whispered over your shoulder, producing you to bounce slightly before glancing back. 

He had a small apologetic smile on his face, almost like a wince.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve said as you shook your head, lips curled into a grin when you turned back to stir the liquid. 

“Lavender and mint.” You bubbled, drawing the saucepan off the stove and holding it out, just enough to get a sniff of the aroma. 

His hand cupped together in the air, wafting the sweet steam towards him, “And it’s tea?” 

“Yeah!…Or you could refrigerate it and make it into lemonade, though I should’ve done this hours ago so that I could…you don’t think it’s too hot for tea do you?” 

Your forehead scrunched up in woe, setting the pot back down and reaching to slide the window in front of you open. Sticking your hand out, you flipped it back and forth, trying to feel the air and its warmth. 

It was totally warm out, but Steve wouldn’t let you know that. He just shook his head, following your actions and sticking his hand out to feel the air, “No, it’s like the perfect weather…I could go for some tea.” 

You looked toward him, giving him a sickly sweet smile as you turned to the opposite side of the kitchen, heading into one of the cupboards to grab mugs. 

“Let me help you.” Steve offered, taking the ones from your hand with ease and placing them onto the counter. 

He didn’t allow you to grab the other seven remaining mugs, as he did it himself, lining them up perfectly so it would be easier to pour and serve. 

“Do you like milk in your tea?” You questioned, padding over to the fridge and seizing every bottle of milk you had. 

He thought for a second, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to recall a memory, but he was sure that the last time he had milk and tea was when he attended one of his father's boring business conferences when he was a child.

“I’ve never tried it, is it any good?” Steve asked, leaning against the counter’s edge to watch you clutch the mason jars against your chest. 

You smiled with a nod, fingers holding up one of the glass jars you had labeled, “almond” before placing them all right next to the mugs. 

“You make your own milk?” He looked surprised, picking up the jar and inspecting the liquids that looked store-bought. 

“It’s super easy and because it doesn’t take my time I just make a new glass every week.” You told him as you waltzed over to the boiler, picking up the pot before cautiously pouring a serving into each mug. 

He watched you closely, noting how you bit your lip in concentration, making sure each mug got the same amount of tea, not wanting anyone to have less or too much than they wanted. You smiled to yourself, eventually letting go of your bottom lip when the last mug was filled perfectly, spinning around in your sock covered feet to place the remaining liquid back on the stove.

He did his best to hide his smile, endeared with your behavior for something as simple as pouring some tea. You rubbed your hands together, finally turning back to him and nodding your chin at the mugs.

“You should get the first taste!”

“You sure?” He asked, already reaching for the ridiculously adorable strawberry mug that you usually always drank out of. 

You giggled, bowing your head as he finally took a sip. His lips smacked against each other to search the flavor profile in an attempt to impress you with the enhanced taste buds that he clearly didn’t possess, but somehow he was still able to make you laugh, which was enough.

“It’s sweet but still a little minty—what milk do you usually go for?” He sat his cup down, fingers brushing over the jars, looking over the different milks you had. 

Oat. Almond. Cashew. 

“Oat, it’s the most neutral out of all of them and doesn’t disturb the flavor, in my opinion.” You responded, letting your elbow rest onto the counter to place your chin in your palm.

You watched him crack open the jar, pouring a tiny bit into his cup before looking at you, silently asking if it was enough. The jutting of your chin and smile prompted him to pour a little more, just until you squeaked and you both laughed before he sealed the jar shut.

The two of you watched the milk flow over the once sheer lilac brew as if it was going to stir itself. Only remembering now, you gasped dramatically, moving up to pull open the drawers on the opposite side of the kitchen in order to grab a handful of spoons.

“Sorry, I totally forgot!” You apologized, handing one to Steve as he snickered, shaking his head while he stirred his drink. 

“Don’t have to apologize. You’re too nice of a host already.” He encouraged you, taking another sip of the tea and giving you wide eyes when it rushed down his larynx. 

“Holy shit…this is good!” He said surprisingly, as you smirked, moving towards him to make yourself a cup. 

Your fingers grabbed onto the vintage basketball mug before pouring in your own splash of oat milk. “Oh! I forgot to mention, I like to add honey sometimes. Do you wanna try?” 

You tiptoed, attempting to grab the bear shaped bottle of honey, and Steve had easily raised his arm up, clutching it for you. 

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, taking it from him.

Steve was just happy to help, beaming warmly and watching you squeeze a tiny bit of honey into your cup and he happily did the same when you passed him the bottle. 

You both took a sip at the same time, smiling tightly as you watched each other before swallowing. It was silly. So the two of you chuckled. Shaking your head at how silly it was. 

“I didn’t mean to stare at you while you…sorry, that was weird of me.” You palmed your forehead dumbly, closing your eyes with a slight smile as Steve chuckled and hummed something that sounded like a “no” as he took another sip of the sweetness.

He shook his head, waving your worries away as he kept his hand on the handle of the mug when the other came down to rest on his hip, “I didn’t mean to stare either…I just didn’t want to look away from your tea-drinking skills.”

You cocked your head to the side, letting both sets of hands wrap around your warm mug as you rose a brow at him.

“My tea drinking skills?”

He smirked, nodding confidently, “Yeah, you know it’s a real art to not spill all over yourself. People do it all the time.”

There was a playful look coating your features, your eyes squinting shut as the smile took over before your laugh, shaking your head ridiculously at him.

“You’re impressed way too easily, Steve.”

Maybe it was the fact that you both were sipping tea in the middle of summer or perhaps the airflow in your kitchen was poor, but either way it didn’t take much for you both to notice the fervor that developed. You two were only inches apart. The space could be closed just by one sway towards each other’s bodies.

The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, watching you take another sip as you tore your eyes away with the heat rushing to the apples of your cheeks. You looked pretty like this; he was sure you always did, but something about you here in your own kitchen surrounded by everything that was you felt just about right.

“I can’t help it…” You snapped your eyes back up at him, seeing him lift his shoulder with a placid grin on his face as he spoke.

“I’m always going to be impressed when it comes to you. Even when it’s just tea and a pretty—”

“What’s this!?”

The two of you jerked your eyes to Robin, leading the rest of the pact behind her into your kitchen. You swore he was just about to call you a pretty girl, certain even, but there were a million things he could’ve said.

Pretty mug.

Pretty kitchen.

Pretty apartment.

Pretty girl.

Pretty you.

No! He wasn’t. There was no way.

You quickly leaned off the counter, gesturing to them as Steve scooted over to make way for everyone else. They all picked up a mug, conversing amongst each other as they began drinking and popping open the milk and honey, serving themselves.

“It’s Lavender mint tea! I also have homemade oak, almond, and cashew milk so hopefully none of you are allergic…but if you want, I could run to the store and pick up some whole milk, it’s only down the road anyway so it won’t be long—“ 

Steve could sense the anxiety in your ramble, unsure if it was because of him and the line he had casted out towards you, or maybe because of the sudden intrusion of his friends that made it feel like you two had been caught when in actuality you both weren’t doing anything wrong.

Steve halted the jabber, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder as everyone helped themselves to the tea, not aware of what you had been saying.

“None of them are allergic, so you’re fine…don’t need to go all out for some kids from Hawkins,” he looked around at his friends who were too busy to care, “everything you’re doing is perfect.” 

You clutched the mug in your hands, taking a sip again feeling your heart thump at his words. You didn’t understand what sorcery was going on, but you did know that Steve Harrington had a way with words and every sweet thing that left his lips made you feel like you were floating. 

Steve swore that he could see a pink blush creeping onto your face, but the mug you had tilted closer to your face hid it. It was cute; he didn’t know why you took so weirdly to compliments. It was something that he noticed right off the bat when you two first met. The way that if anyone said something nice about you, you felt the need to downplay it or not respond at all.

But Steve would keep complimenting you because you truly were someone that deserved to know their worth. So he smiled, continuing to watch the way you tried to hide your blush, while he sipped on his tea. 

Robin wasn’t clueless to the two of you, sure she didn’t have the best timing, but she could read the both of you. The way you and he would stare at each other for too long and even how you’d both stray to each other if the other ran off somewhere else.

She knew where this was going.

Coughing lightly to clear her throat, she tapped you on the shoulder.

“Do you mind showing me the bathroom?” 

You nodded, a tight smile on your face as you brushed past Steve, but not without your arms grazing before you led her out of the kitchen and into the opposite hallway where your bedroom and the bathroom was. 

“It’s in here,” reaching forward and twisting the door open to reveal the bathroom. 

Robin smirked wickedly, seizing one of your arms and pulling you into the restroom before shutting the door. 

You shrieked and snorted all in one, startled at her action and trying to steady the mug in your hand so you didn’t spill any.

“Robs!” 

She pressed her back against the door, a woozy smile on her face as she widened her eyes at you, “What the hell was that in there?!” 

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically, “Oh my god, shush, he could hear you! It was nothing!”

Robin laughed, as you tugged her a ways bit from the door, hoping that no one, and especially Steve, didn't hear the conversation that was happening inside here. She opted to close the toilet lid, sitting on top of it while you leaned against the counter, still sipping on your tea to avoid talking about this, but Robin seemed to have no plans to stop. 

“It didn’t look like nothing! You guys were like milliliters apart, and his eyes were all dreamy and full of stars when he was staring at you!”

Her hands twiddled around in the air, trying to show you what she meant, and you knew exactly what she meant because you saw his orbs in the same light. Like an ocean of stars and glitter every time he had his eyes on you long enough for you to catch it—to make a wish on them.

“His eyes are always dreamy.” You countered out loud, instantly regretting that statement as Robin clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal. 

You bit back a smile, turning your head the other way so she couldn’t see the way you were absolutely blushing out of your mind.  

“I knew it! I could feel the tension in that kitchen and I just knew it! And the other day? You two just couldn’t stop looking at each other. You guys are totally crushing and are gonna fall in love!”

God, you couldn’t even remember when’s the last time you actually had a crush on someone attainable. All the guys you liked were fictional, from books, tv shows, and movies, because at least those guys were mesmerizing and actually respectable people. But Steve felt like that too, that one out of a million that you could actually see and have the privilege of being around let alone talking to.

He was so out of your league, there was no possible way he could’ve meant what he was going to say as a genuine romantic compliment. He was just being friendly. Just being the same Steve that Robin described to you before you had even met him. The same Steve who graciously covered for you when you didn’t want to talk about your asshole ex boyfriend.

The Steve that had you thinking about him on your drive back home wishing you were watching the sunset with him—

You heard the snap of her fingers, before feeling her stand up and make her way in front of you where she stood and clutched your shoulders, causing you to look at her. Shaking your head, you sighed heavily, finally prompting her a response after those grueling composing seconds.

“He’s just nice, Robin, and I’m sure he’s being kind because we just met. I barely know him! You said it yourself, remember? Steve’s a nice guy.” You said seriously, setting down your mug on the open counter space as she pouted and shook her head. 

“No, I mean yeah, Steve is nice, but he’s being abnormally kind to you. The kind of kindness where it’s all sappy and lovey. It kinda makes me want to throw up, but also makes me want to kick my legs like an idiot because seeing him this way after all this time is actually nice.”

She explained with a complicated look that quickly turned into smiles and fondness, realizing that Steve was actually putting himself out there and you just were too foreign to it all. She watched as you took another deep breath, letting your shoulders stoop against her hold as you held your head in your hands.

“I stood there like an idiot Robs. He said something really nice to me and I…I just stood there! Gosh, he probably thinks I'm totally dumbass or something.” 

She scoffed, shaking her head, giving your skin an encouraging squeeze when you finally looked up at her.

“Trust me, Steve doesn’t think you’re an idiot or a dumbass, or anything bad. He's genuinely so enthralled by you. And this is the same guy whose attention span is shorter than mine, so that’s saying quite a lot if, after the first hangout he’s already asking more about you.”

Your eyebrows curled into a frown before raising curiously, silently asking Robin to tell you what she meant before she licked her lips, eyes darting around the bathroom trying to pick one out of the many scenarios where Steve had asked about you.

“Umm, okay, this one!” She decided confidently, nodding her head and furrowing her brows roughly to mimic Steve earlier this morning at the florist.

“Which flowers do you think she likes best? She’s like super into florals, right? Is she allergic to anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to show up with flowers that she’s allergic to. That’s like fucking embarrassing Robs. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna pick the prettiest flowers and hope she doesn’t end up sneezing or anything.”

You snickered at her impression of Steve’s voice and mannerisms, feeling your heart swarm as you thought it was pretty sweet that he was taking the time to ask about you, let alone think about putting in so much effort into those flowers he had brought for you.

“That’s actually really adorable,” you admitted, while Robin smiled and tilted her head, watching you thoughtfully. 

She removed her grip for your shoulders, hands softly clapped while she shrieked while you rolled your eyes playfully at her delight. “See! I’m like cupid or something! Just yennooo…try throwing out a compliment and if it feels weird or wrong, then you’ll know. But I think we both know how it’s gonna go!” 

“Sure cupid,” You rolled your eyes lovingly before going deep again, “I just don’t want to mess things up, alright? If somehow we’re both reading this wrong, I don’t want to lose him as a friend. It’s gonna put me in an awkward position if he doesn’t feel the same, so just for my sake, let’s just keep this conversation between us?”

You held out your pinky finger towards her, where she immediately crossed her fingers over her heart and proceeded to hook her pinky with yours. 

“Promise!” she vowed, kissing her thumb as you giggled and did the same to yours. 

When you two unhooked fingers, she crossed her arms and looked back at the toilet then at you, “I still really gotta pee, so…” 

You tsked, chuckling lightly as you picked up your mug and gave her a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom to give her some privacy. When you walked down the hallway back into your living room, everyone looked relaxed, sitting on the couch or just hanging around the floor enjoying their cups of homemade tea while they talked amongst themselves. 

Steve was in his previous seat, rocking back and forth in the hanging chair still nursing his lavender mint tea. When you came into view, he flashed you a smile, almost a questioning one, asking if everything was alright considering you were just in the bathroom with his best friend for quite some time. You assured him a nod and a small curl of your lips, ushering him to nod back.

That god he didn’t seem phased by the previous kitchen interaction.

“What’s that?” You requested, settling on the carpeted floor where Will and the rest of the teenagers were sitting near the coffee table flipping through a book. 

Will glanced over with a shrug, sliding the book towards you, giving you a chance to see the art that covered the pages. You were amazed, setting down your mug and pulling the book closer as you looked into each stroke of the pencil and all the shading. 

“Will, these are beautiful.” You nudged him casually with your elbow, making him smile, while he watched you flip through the next few pages where more illustrations filled the sheet. 

One of the pages that caught your eye was a figure, one dressed in a cloak with a pointy wizard hat, and it looked a bit like Will. Maybe a self-portrait of some kind for that fantasy game he and the boys played.

“They’re not as good as yours, but I wanted to bring it so I could show you what I’ve been working on.” He told you, while you frowned and reached to rest your hand onto his, giving it a squeeze. 

“No, these are amazing. I mean, this is just incredible…when I was your age all I could draw were stick figures.” 

The laugh that Will let out made you smile and so did the reinforcing words coming from his friends, egging him on and telling him how awesome all of his sketches were. You knew that art was subjective, and even when you yourself were hard on the work that you made, you also had to find it within yourself to be kind.

And you wanted Will to feel the same way, because he truly had a talent for art and you wished you had someone when you were younger who encouraged you to pursue it sooner. 

“I actually have a bunch of spare paints and brushes, and other supplies that you can take home.” You told him.

Shifting to your knees as you began reaching under the coffee table where some storage bins were located, filled with some paints you hadn’t yet used. You began pulling them out one by one, setting them on the coffee table and talking to Will about each of the brands and colors.

From Steve’s place, he could see more of you than Will whose back was facing him. He saw the way your nose crinkled distastefully as you expressed your dislike of certain paint brands because of the opacity and smell. Then how quickly the look of disgust was replaced by a bark of hilarity as Will told you something about his mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee to battle the horrible smell of some of the paints he used.

Steve hoped it didn’t make him a creep for always watching you, but it was out of admiration than it was out of flirtation. He preferred watching you because there was a way about you—an ease, almost one that even yourself didn’t quite notice, but he did.

To him, the best way to describe the feeling he got around you was almost like a secret garden.

One filled with every kind of flower blooming under the radiating sun. Trees growing so tall with birds settling on the stretching branches. The air the perfect kind of cool where bees and butterflies pass through as they soar through the sky. A calm waterfall trickling into a pond that calls out to everyone to jump in freely.

For Steve, it’s like jumping in and getting lost in you…exactly as he’s doing right now.

In simpler terms, people gravitated towards you, not solely for your sweetness or kindness, but for how genuine you actually were.

Even in Steve’s own experiences, he knew he was guilty of just nodding along and pretending to understand what any of the teens were talking to him about.

Video games. Computers. Poetry. Skateboarding. Dungeons and Dragons. Painting. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Crushes. Whatever it was; just going in one ear and out the other while they kept talking and talking and talking.

But not you.

If anything, you immersed yourself into their world even when it wasn’t something that you could fully wrap your head around like that fantasy game. Yet you never failed to ask questions in order to learn more about it, but it was mostly because you loved to see their faced light up when talking about something that they enjoyed without needing to worry about sounding nerdy.

He wished he could talk to you about anything, and he knew he could, but just not right now. Not with everyone sitting here when all he wanted to do was tell you how down to earth you were and how it was even impossible for you to be real.

But indeed real you were meeting his eyes for only a split second before you turned it all back to Will as he spoke.

“Do you think I could try to paint something?” Will asked you timidly, almost anxious of being a nuance, but you bubbled out an excited yelp, scrambling to your feet as you rushed to your bedroom in order to grab a blank canvas that you were sure you weren’t going to use. 

“Where is it?” You puffed, hauling open your closet door in hopes of you finding it in some bin that you stored all your excess supplies in. 

A knock sounded on the doorway wall, prompting you to call out a reply instead of actually looking at who it was, just assuming that it was Will or one of the other kids. 

“Need any help?” 

Steve’s voice had you ceasing all movements, encouraging you to take a deep breath and realize that the whole kitchen thing was over. Right now, you needed to get it together and not make things weird. You exhaled softly, peeping back from behind your closet to see him leaning against your door frame with a small smile before you nodded. 

“It’s so bare in here.”

He joked, looking around the room where the only piece of artwork hanging was one above your bed. A total lunar eclipse with its blood-red moon shining bright against a dark sky with tiny stars scatters around it. 

You gasped subsequently, finding the smaller canvas and standing up from the ground, “I like that my bedroom is sorta away from all the chaos out there.”

Your hands motioned to the outside of the door, making circles and rolling your eyes, as if the living room was such a chaotic mess, when it really wasn’t. He chuckled, shaking his head before raising his brow at you.

“Anything else we need?” 

Yeah, some fucking composure, Steve, because now I’m thinking of a compliment to spit out so we can get a feel of whatever the fuck we have going on.

You nodded, dropping the canvas on your bed and strolling over to the bottom drawers of your dresser where more supplies were stored.

“Yeah, some new brushes and a paint pallet for him.”

He watched you, totally oblivious of your nerves and instead in awe of how considerate you were being, by lending Will new items rather than just letting him borrow what you already had. 

“You’re going to spoil the kid rotten.” He quipped, seeing as you couldn’t pick between two different shades of blue paint tubes and instead, just threw both of them into the pile you were amassing for Will. 

You looked up, looking as innocent as ever and shaking your head, more than happy to spoil the kid.

“These have just been sitting here waiting to be used and Will will probably use it more than I ever will.” 

He chuckled, coming down beside you, kneeling on the floor to help gather the paint tubes in his hands knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry it all by yourself. Your fingers brushed each other as you both grabbed a few, eyes flickering up to each other with a quiet laugh, continuing on before he spoke just as delicately.

“You’re really too sweet.” 

Now’s the opening…just be smooth and throw it out there.

“I’d like to think I am,” you replied, snickering to yourself, when on the inside you were screaming.

He looked to you, seeing as though you tried to brush it off, “No, really, I mean it, you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met…no one has ever put this much thought into a hang out before.” 

You looked almost smitten under his gaze, tucking your cheek into your shoulder and trying to play it off as a shrug despite the smile he could see seeping upon your face. He found it cute. Though he didn’t know why you tried to hide it, he wanted to make you smile and make you feel good about yourself. 

“You really think so?” You asked unabashedly, following his head nod with a grin. 

“I’d go as far as saying you’re the sweetest girl I think I’ll ever meet.” 

Play it cool.

“You must not have met many girls then?” You stood up, hearing his chuckle as he followed your lead. 

“Don’t really want to meet any other ones anymore.” He countered. 

Strike and get a feel of it.

You grabbed the canvas off your bed as you swooped by. “Robin wasn’t kidding when she said you were charming.” 

“She said that?” He said comically, and you giggled nodding and walking out of your bedroom with him trailing behind you. 

Throw it out there.

“Yeah, which isn’t totally surprising, considering the fact that you’re pretty sweet yourself.” 

There was a glint of teasing to your voice, not that it was too different from the sweetness that dripped from it regularly, but he could tell there was something more there. He didn’t want to think too hard about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his never-ending questions, so instead he clung to it, hoping he’d get the chance to hear something like that coming from only you ever again. 

“Here you go, Will,” you crooned cheerfully, entering the living room with Steve trailing behind you with the paints. 

Will’s eyes lit up with excitement, sitting up on his knees as you two placed the items on the coffee table. You sat beside him while Steve went back to the chair, watching in on you explaining to Will each of the pigments and their properties.

This time he wasn’t doing a lot of listening, his mind still caught up in your words and if it meant what he thought it did. He was going to call you a pretty girl back in the kitchen, that is before Robin and the rest of the gang had stumbled in to stop him.

Was that compliment supposed to be a response to his?

Was what you said even a compliment?

Of course it was…hell you could’ve you said he  reminded you of a golden retriever and he’d take it with pride and brag to everyone that a pretty girl compared him to a cuddly animal.

But was he just maybe reading into it too much?

You were always dishing out compliments to everyone, saying how great and talented they were, but not with the undertone you had spoken to him with. Perhaps he had misheard you and now he was doing all of this overthinking just to end off at the same place you both started, which was friends.

Just friends.

“Steve, could you come with me and Eddie to the kitchen, please?”

Robin and Eddie both stood, looking at him sharply as they shuffled into the kitchen, signaling for Steve to follow their lead.

He furrowed his brows, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen, “What’s up?” 

“You’re being fucking weird!” Eddie's whisper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. 

Steve looked taken aback, looking at his two friends puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re thinking too hard. What’s the matter?” Robin softly prodded, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“W-what? No, I’m fine…I’m just thinking…” He said, avoiding Robin’s knowing eyes as he looked at Eddie instead.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “You keep following her everywhere, yet you’re not making a move. Everyone in that damn living room can feel the tension between you guys.” 

“There is no tension!” Steve claimed quietly, peering back and making sure you still were laser focused on the painting.

He looked back at his two friends, resting his hands on his hips, “I’m being friendly alright. I want to make her feel comfortable and help out the same way she did. That’s all.” 

Robin threw an unconvinced look his way, before gesturing towards Eddie, “When you met Eddie, you made fun of him for nicknaming his guitar sweetheart, it’s not the same.” 

“Because Eddie isn’t a girl!” Steve argued, only causing Eddie to raise a brow, holding a hand over his heart pretending he had just been wounded. 

“Are you saying I’m ugly, Harrington?” 

“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his temples. 

Robin reached forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her, “Dude…stop thinking so hard about it. If you like her, just be cool about it. Ask her out if you want. I don’t know…j-just do anything besides what you were doing out there because you looked like you were in pain and it was just weird.”

Did he really looked pained?

Steve blinked, trying to process debating if he wanted to ask Robin if he really looked that bad or for some fucking advice to man up and ask you out already. He didn’t know what he was avoiding, knowing that usually if he liked a girl, he’d just go in and take the shot to ask, but with you, he just couldn’t.

There was too much to lose if something went south.

His thinking was cut short by Eddie who began snapping his fingers, pointing victoriously like he and Robin cracked some sort of secret Russian code or something.

“We were right!” He started poking at Robin’s cheek as she grumbled yet bit back a smile.

Eddie pointed towards Steve again, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “What’d I tell you? Harrington is usually so quick to slide on in and ask a girl out and now suddenly he meets a gorgeous down-to-earth-painter-baker-girl and now he’s whipped!”

He drummed his fingers on Robin’s shoulder, making her laugh before turning to her best friend, suddenly bright pink in the cheeks. 

“You must really really like her if you’re not using those god awful pickup lines to make her fall for you.” She said half jokingly. 

Steve shrugged, moving away from the two and instead reached for his tea mug and taking a sip of the now semi-warm liquid. “Maybe…I—I dunno…I just don’t want to rush things because she knows about King Steve and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” 

Robin tilted her head, looking apologetic, “She told you I told her about that?” 

He shook his head, looking at her dully, “No, but she did say you said I was charming, which pretty much gives it away…also you’re such a terrible liar.” 

“Am not!” She gasped, lightly punching him in the arm.

Steve didn’t look so convinced, arguing back without hitting her, “Yeah you are!” 

“Fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie sighed, rocking his head at the two. 

“Is everything ok?” Your cool speech came ringing in the small kitchen, making the three of them stutter, trying to not look so suspicious. 

“Y-yeah, fine! Umm, they were just wondering if you had more tea!” Steve lied, turning his eyes back to Robin and widening them, signaling for her to let go of his shoulders, which she did. 

He made his way over to the stove, peeking into the pot that had only a bit of tea left.

“Oh, I can make some more if you’d like?” You responded, moving further into the kitchen to meet Steve at the stove. 

With your back turned to Robin and Eddie, they both motioned their way out of the space to give him more time with you, but not before shooting him a suggestive wink. 

“Uh, no, no need for that. I’ll just take what’s left…Eddie and Robin have ummm, small bladders! I don’t want them complaining the whole way home later.” 

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself while you attempted to stifle a laugh reaching for his mug and pouring the rest of the tea into his cup. 

“Here you go,” you said, turning to him with his mug filled.

He flashed you an apologetic smile, saying a quiet “thank you” while you shake it off. 

“Need anything else? A snack?” 

His ears heard you loud and clear, but his eyes were stuck on the living room where Eddie and Robin were wildly gesturing their hands in the air, mouthing, “Just do it!”

For my friends to stop being dumbasses is what he wanted to say, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the two friends and giving his sights back to you. 

“No, this is all. Thanks again.” He reassured you, earning a smile as you both walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room. 

Taking your place between Max and Will who were painting, you were able to get a glimpse of the work they had completed for the short time you were gone. Max had wanted to join in after getting tired of the comic she was reading.

“Oh, this is amazing—shoot, I’m so sorry!” 

You weren’t quite sure why you were here apologizing at the fact that Max had accidentally turned towards you with a paintbrush in her hand, smearing gold all over the front of your shirt, but here you were.

“Shit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” The red head said, clutching a hand over her mouth as you shook your head. 

“No, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. It’s okay, the paint comes off easily in the wash, I’ll go get changed!” You yelped, getting up and jogging down the hallway into your room.

Max turned to Steve, glaring at him.

“Really? Eddie and Robin have small bladders? That’s the best excuse you came up with?” 

He scratched the back of his neck, leaning forward, “W-what?” 

“Max just bought us some time to tell you how weird you’re being.” Lucas smirked, glancing at Max who looked proud of her quick idea.

Dustin snorted in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from his comic, “If you’re gonna keep staring at her and following her around like a minion you might as well as her out!”

“I’m not asking her out on a date with all of you here!” Steve countered, staring at all of his friends like they were insane.

Robin rolled her eyes, looking at Nancy, then him, “You asked Nancy to have six kids that time we went road tripping a few years ago. What difference does that make now?” 

Mike groaned, covering his face in discomfort remembering overhearing that conversation. “I didn’t have to be reminded of my sister hypothetically having six babies with Steve.”

Jonathan snapped his eyes to Nancy who widened her eyes at Robin, “When was this?” He asked. 

Nancy shook her head, brushing him off, “A long time ago, so it doesn’t matter. And they’re right, you and her obviously have chemistry, so why not just stop wasting time and get it over with?”

“No, we don’t,” Steve shook his head, not sounding as convincing as he’d like. 

Nance tilted her head, giving him those doubtful eyes, “Really? Do you actually believe that for one second?”

“You keep following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jonathan admitted, forgetting about the stupid six children thing and saving it for another day, seeing as though Steve really expected that they all couldn’t see right through you and him. 

“Every time I look over at her to see if I’m doing something right, you’re in my peripheral ogling at her like a piece of art.” Will responded, tearing his eyes away from his canvas. 

“It’s kinda cute.” El said with a giddy smile. 

“She’s always smiling at you for some reason.” Max continued. 

“Which is funny considering that you’re not that pretty to look at,” Eddie quipped, earning a scowl from Harrington. 

Robin rolled her eyes at the men’s consistent banter, knowing she had to work fast before you came back out.

“What we’re trying to say is that she clearly likes you and you like her. You can try denying how you feel, but we know how you get when you start crushing on a girl, so don’t think your lying is going to fool any of us.”

She told him, which would've been reassuring, but asking a girl out in front of a crowd of people wasn’t something that sounded like a good time for him or you. It was just going to put you in that sticky spot with all the attention and most likely to say yes to save him the embarrassment.

He couldn’t do that to you.

“Well, I’m still not asking her out with you guys down my throat. Her and I are just friends. I need to get to know her first. Hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is or if she likes sports? These are things I should know before I ask a girl out!”

Who was Steve kidding and when did he start caring about frivolous shit like that? You and him could have nothing in common and still he would fawn over you and snowball this crush into something more. Even going as far to turn himself into Picasso's reincarnation if that would make you like him better. 

“I’m back!” You grinned, sauntering down the corridor sporting none other than a cropped Red Sox t-shirt. 

Steve’s favorite team, of course. 

Eddie grunted, already on the tip of making a subtle note, just to see if he was right.

“Nice shirt, but didn’t they lose—“

“Oh, don’t even get me started! The game was totally rigged and if Buckner didn’t mess up that inning, Boston would’ve taken that championship home.” You said intensely, taking your seat between Max and Will once again. 

Everyone’s eyes turned to Steve’s, watching them muddle with even more affection than before. You were his total dream girl. He knew it, and so did everyone else.

“Everything alright?” You chuckled after the short seconds of silence. 

Grunts and hums came from everybody attempting to not fixate their gaze solely between you and Steve, but it was a bit tough considering the stare that Steve had locked on you. 

“Peachy, just trying to remember that date because it was so memorable, and I wished that someone here would make a move and remember it.”

Robin emphasized her words sharply, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention in order for him to stop staring at you before you caught him.

Eddie joined in, coughing loudly to “clear” his throat only stopping when Steve finally snapped his eyes away from you.

“Yeah, you know what’s so funny about dates is that they mark something special and really help solidly the—“ 

You lifted your eyes from Will’s painting just in time as Steve shook it off the stare.

“October 27th 1986 but the series went from October 18th through the 27th if we want to get specific.” 

Holy fuck. Holy shit. Holy Mother Of God.

“I—I gotta go to the bathroom!” Steve spat out speedily, resting his mug on the cramped coffee table and shooting up. 

You creased your brows together, watching him trudge down the hallway, clumsily, “The first door on your right—“ 

“Right! Yep! Got it!” He called out, reaching for the handle and nearly propelling himself through the door and slamming it shut. 

You tilted your head, letting out a grunt before turning your eyes to Robin, “I—Is he okay?”

She nodded with a broad smile, sitting up from the couch and knocking Eddie’s arm with her elbow, “He’s actually the one with a small bladder so…yenno, when nature calls am I right?” 

“He and the toilet are gonna be awhile, a date if you will,” Eddie snorted, making you choke on a laugh before giving them a slow head nod and turning your attention back to Will and Max. 

This was by the far the longest time Steve had ever spent staring at himself in the mirror for something not related to his looks. This time around, he was staring for another reason, trying to find the Steve within him that would actually pull the trigger and ask you out already. It was clear as day that he liked you. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of it, he knew his feelings.

But he also knew you were worth more than this and more than the old Steve. 

The old Steve could easily swoon you with a pickup line and flirty eyes: the King Steve that you had heard about from Robin. But that wasn’t who Steve was anymore and it sure as hell wasn’t the version of himself he wanted to be when he was with you.

He wanted to be better, to show you that you actually did deserve someone with character within them. Even after all this improvement and trying to actually search for a relationship that consisted of love rather than just sex, he didn’t know if he was good enough for you. If you’d even want to go on a date with him. 

He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a chance. 

But what if all you wanted was to be friends? 

Would that ruin your friendship with Robin? 

Could you possibly imagine yourself ever being friends with her again after her best friend made a pass at you?

He liked you, but he loved Robin and knew this friendship meant a lot to her. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize it because of a crush even if Robin was fully in support of it.

Maybe you and him were supposed to be just friends. 

“Steve! Dude, c’mon we gotta go.” Dustin’s voice came from the outside of the door, knocking firmly against the wood. 

He furrowed his brows, unlocking the door and pulling it open, “Go? Go where? We just got here.” 

Dustin sighed, gesturing back to the living room where you were helping the others clean up, “Nance called home and Mrs. Wheeler said that Holly had an allergic reaction. We gotta get home ASAP!” 

“So why can’t Nancy and Mike go home and we stay?” Steve hissed more harshly than intended. 

The boy shook his head in incredulity, crossing his arms over his chest, “Need I remind you we drove here in Eddie’s van? We all need to leave together or else you’re stranded in Roane, but by the sound of it, you wouldn’t mind at all.” 

Dustin wore a knowing sneer while Steve bit down on his tongue, not really wanting to lash out on the kid who was pointing out the very obvious feelings that he did a horrible job at hiding. 

“C’mon lover boy, we got a hive covered six-year-old who needs the hospital and we gotta house sit for a few hours.” Dustin said, finally patting Steve on the arm before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room. 

He followed closely behind, seeing everyone begin the file out the door where you hugged each of them. 

“I hope everything is ok with your sister! Please, just don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do to help!”

You tightly wrapped your arms around Nance, closing your eyes as you rubbed her back affectionately and heard her murmur a “thank you so much,” before pulling away. 

“Bye! Thanks for having us, again!” Dustin saluted with a toothy grin before you giggled and hugged him. 

Steve was the last one left in the doorway with you, keeping his hands to his side not knowing if he should open up to hug you first or not. 

“Oh! Hold on, don’t go anywhere. I gotta give you something!” You pointed your finger at him and jogged through your apartment into your room, coming out a few seconds later with his yellow pullover folded neatly in your hands. 

You held it out to him, wearing a smile on your face. “I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles. Sorry if it smells like honeysuckle, it’s just the detergent I use!” 

His heart ached even more knowing this thing would smell like you until the next time it’d be washed. Only fueling the crush he had and taking every ounce in his body not to jump at the opportunity to tell you how down to earth you were and how much he’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let him. But instead, he could only muster out a few sentences. 

“T-thanks! I won’t mind at all…and thanks for having us over, even if it was only for a little.” He laughed, watching you shake your head. 

“No, it was really fun having your guys over, and umm, I invited everyone to come to my art gallery this weekend, and it would really mean a lot if you could make it, if you’re free.” You said tenderly, rubbing your hand over your opposite arm watching a smile break on his face. 

He nodded, “I’m free this weekend so I’ll definitely be there.” 

“Thanks! Robin has the directions and whatnot.” You spoke, nodding your head as you both stood there for a second totally forgetting that he had to go until Eddie beeped his horn. 

You snapped out of your stance, instantly apologizing, “Shit, sorry! Okay, I’ll see you!’ 

Steve wasn’t at all prepared for your arms to wrap around his neck, hugging him closely, feeling your breath fan again his skin as he hurriedly draped his arms across your back, squeezing you tight, “Y-yeah! See you then…” 

Pulling away from Steve felt difficult just as hard as it would be knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. It didn’t help that you and him didn’t get to speak as much as you’d like because you really wanted to get to know him more. To ask him about life in Hawkins and how he liked Roane so far.

It just didn’t help that you felt like you crossed a line after telling Steve that he was “pretty sweet himself.” 

Was that too forward of you? 

Maybe it was too corny? 

Did it throw him off? 

It probably did throw him off. It had to have been that. After you replied with that sad excuse of what was supposed to be a compliment, Steve started acting weird. Strolling off to the kitchen with Robin and Eddie, probably telling them all about how you sucked at flirting. Even excusing himself to the bathroom in a haste when he clearly didn’t have to use it.

For a minute, you thought that you really did blow your chances with him, but it all drifted away when you caught the smile and wave that he threw at you from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 

He looked happy, yet sad to be taking off, kinda like how you looked after needing to leave the Harrington house. You just didn’t want to get your hopes up living for something that had a small probable chance of ever coming to life. There was no telling what mood you and Steve would be feeling the next time you saw each other, and you didn’t want to jinx it before it was too late.

You just closed the door, pressing your back against the wood knowing that everything in your system was dying for the moment you and Steve would see each other next.

For now, you’d have to pad across your apartment thinking about him wherever you strayed, wishing he was following close behind like he always was. But he wasn’t.

The only trace he left behind was his scent lingering in the air and the strawberry cup that was yours, but you didn’t mind if it belonged to him now.

Truly, you were screwed, living for the hope of it all.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated 💌

a/n: chapter one is here!!! ive been working on this for a while and was actually supposed to make this series only 3 parts but i love it so much (and tumblr is laggy lately) that i wanted to split them up into more parts and ill also be opening my inbox to blurbs for what im coining "glitch universe" very soon!!! i hope you all love this chapter and stick around for the rest!! a big thanks to effie again for helping me proof-read and hyping me up through all this!!!! happy reading to all!!!!! 🍰🍓🧸

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

[silverzoomies]

Antithesis

james patrick march x reader smut

warnings: smut, slow burn-ish, oral sex, one-sided pining, devotion, body worship, hand jobs, slight choking, pet names, oneshot

word count: 7640

a/n: my apologies if james seems at all ooc here. i try my goddamn hardest to keep characters as close to their source material as possible. but, when it comes to self indulgent smut, sometimes you gotta pull a few strings!!! oh, and i'd also like to apologize for the long length of this fic. and for how abruptly it ends hdsghkjdshkgsg it's a mess, sorry !!

bonus note ig: in 1920's slang, a "goof" is an idiot. james basically thinks of you as naive and dumb here. sorry!

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March doesn’t dislike you. “Dislike” is much too strong a word.

No, he tolerates you. Dare he think it, he might even be somewhat…fond of you. The two of you were born nearly a hundred years apart. And so, as expected, you were the absolute antithesis of one another. March built himself from the ground up. He started with little to nothing. Carrying with him a background he so dreaded to recall. Childhood memories best left buried deep. Never to see the shining light of day again. March walked with a prestigious elegance. Something all but lost to the world in modern times, he thought. He was high-class. New money incarnate. Fancy, social affairs and aesthetic, art-deco decor were his most treasured hobbies. Amongst his other, more…contentious interests. And you. What were you?

Some little goof. You poor thing. Your story was quite the tragedy, really. Born almost one hundred years later to middle class stock. An entirely different world from the one in which March knew. Your arrival to the hotel Cortez was…unfortunate. You were the embodiment of innocence. Overly polite to a fault. Kind to the staff and the hotel’s mysterious residents. Never going out of your way to disturb a single soul. And you always made sure to apologize for the times you did.

And like all lives brought to the Cortez, yours ended there. A shame. A pity. Truly. What a waste. After you died, you drifted aimlessly for a while. Exploring every inch of the hotel you could. Bearing witness to the unspeakable horror that burned like scorching fire from inside. The hotel Cortez was nothing short of the infernal regions made earthly.

Even so, you weren’t the least bit fazed by this fact. Death changed you. It changed your moral perspective.

But you were missing something. A purpose. Every soul, lost adrift, needed purpose.

Liz knew all. 

She knew everything about everyone. Including you. You’d sit at the bar, talking to her for hours on end. About your life. Liz’s life. The lives of the Cortez’s other, ghostly residents. She’d tell you of the hotel and its history. And you learned all there was to know. But in sharing your deepest thoughts, desires, and fears, you’d been a little too open. And Liz learned enough that, had a curious party asked about you? She could easily act as an informant.

You were a poor sap. Harboring a deep rooted, psychological need to please.

In death, you told Liz, you wanted nothing more than, simply…a person. Someone to dedicate yourself to entirely. Someone to love, to adore, to spend all of eternity caring for. Such an innocent desire, from such an unsullied soul.

You heard of him only in passing. James Patrick March.

You knew of his murderous atrocities. And you’d heard whispers of his bloodied history in hushed tones. Liz told you of everything March built, and what he’d become in the process. 

March assumed you thought nothing of it. Nothing of him. Because at the Cortez, he was often that. Nothing more than a rumor. Only making himself present whenever necessary. Any other day? He remained a chilling, ghost story. And that’s all he’d been to you.

Until the two of you crossed paths, that is.

March was polite and courteous, as he always is. And the soulless, empty void of his dark eyes met yours. Pure, beautiful, and innocent. The two of you couldn’t have been more different from one another. You, his polar opposite. If he were the infernal reaches of hell itself, you were the luminous kingdom of heaven.

Whatever you felt for him, it must have been instantaneous.

Because suddenly, your sorrow dissipated. A lifetime of suffering and anguish faded away into thin air. And finally, you were free. Joyous. You, the little goof. Your demeanor somehow became all the more polite and inviting. Ironic, really. Considering…the source of your happiness was the very personification of evil itself.

You’d skip around the hotel with a spring in your step. Greeting everyone who passed you in the halls with a chipper, sunny disposition. Parading around in those loose-fitting clothes. Your skin decorated in ink reminiscent of your rather quirky interests. Appalling, if you were to ask him. 

You were vexatious. And yet…

March found he appreciated your company.

You really were too sweet. Sickeningly so. Like cavity-inducing candy. Truly good at heart. There wasn’t a hateful, nefarious bone in your body. But you were deeply loyal to a fault. It was a weakness that kept you chained. It held you down. Never allowing you to reach your true potential. March could see it. He saw right through you, straight into your delicate soul. He saw your aura. Unsullied purity.

March learned all he could about you from Liz.

And once he had, he felt the need to test your unbroken clarity.

He showed you everything. Every secret. Every piece of gory history which revealed his past, his life’s purpose, his true intentions. The never-ending, torturous suffering he brought upon the innocent lives of the world. He confessed to you his killings. Even going into the dark, gritty details. March stared you down with an empty, far off look in his shady eyes. An uncanny gaze. And he expressed to you all his crazed, degenerate passions.

He expected you to react accordingly. Like any soul so pure and unblemished as yours should.

But death…

Death truly did change you. The hotel Cortez? It corrupted your moral code.

Perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as you often seemed.

You treated his passions like any other hobby. And you engaged in conversation about them casually. Beaming the brightest, most curious, smile. Your eyes glimmered with genuine interest and fascination. And March found he was more than happy to share that part of himself with you. Delighted to discuss his exploits with a newfound friend. A trusted friend.

He did long for someone to talk to…

And it was then, he realized. He knew. He was woefully fucked.

Because you. Naive, little goof that you were…

You’d found your purpose.

The one person whom you’d give your undying devotion, for forever and into eternity.

No one, not a single soul in the hotel had expected it. When you sat at the bar, sipping on your sweet sodas instead of anything alcoholic (ever the carefree babe, you were). You spoke of having ‘found’ your purpose. And there were smiles all around. “ Ooh’s ” and “ Aah’s ” exchanged through hushed gossip. Who could this person be, they asked themselves.

Imagine the residents’ surprise once they put two and two together.

Of all people. Him? Really? Were you mad as a hatter?

From then on, you followed March everywhere. Attached at his side like a leech. And though he considered you a dear friend, you weren’t much more to him than a loyal dog. You offered your help whenever you saw fit. And, somewhat reluctantly, he allowed it.

To his surprise, March found you respected his personal space. You’d disappear when he found your company too overwhelming. Sometimes, you were gone for days. Or even weeks. Off to explore the hotel again. Or to drift aimlessly as you did in the days before you’d found him. Uncertain as to what you should do in your lonesome. Sometimes, you’d listen to music. Clamorous racket of the modern era.

And eventually, always, you returned.

Sometimes, March found he missed your presence when you were gone.

And despite the admiration you carried for him, you valued March’s love for his dearest wife. The Countess. Often, you’d go so far as to listen to him drone on and on about her. And he could. If March were allowed the opportunity, he’d speak of her for centuries. He’d reminisce about his most cherished memories of her. His Elizabeth. Mrs. March. When March had his monthly dinners with his dearest, you felt it necessary to assist. You were insistent upon it, actually. Helping alongside Ms. Evers, you did what you could to make those nights as grand and romantic as possible. And when he banished Ms. Evers, you didn’t hesitate to take over entirely. Every one of those special nights, you were there to help him prepare.

Once the dinners themselves started, you’d run off. Leaving the pair undisturbed. And he wouldn’t see you again until the next morning. 

One night, March sat across from the countess at the table. She glared at him with a half-lidded, miserable expression. But March missed this glare. Because he’d been busy watching you leave. He smiled, raising his glass to you. And you waved him off, wishing him luck, before closing the door.

At that very moment, he made a decision.

The next night came, and there he sat. Present at the dinner table again. Only, you were his cherished guest of the evening. Dinner lay before you both. Though, in death, you never ate. March watched with a grin as you sipped some champagne. You fluttered delicate lashes his way. Devotion leaking like tears from your eyes. A delighted smile played across your lips. One always present in his company, he found.

“Darling! I assume you’re wondering why it is I’ve called you here tonight, hm?” He posed the question rather excitedly.

Your pretty, doe eyes widened at that. You poor thing. Your cheeks burned in a flurry of rose red. Even in the dim, candle-lit light of the room. Even at a distance, across the table, March could see your blush clear as day. He smirked into his glass. 

Never, in all the years since the two of you met, had he ever addressed you as darling.

The effect this seemed to have on you was very much apparent. He could see the shift in your expression. The way you’d fallen breathless under his cold-blooded gaze. March couldn’t help but find your obvious desire for him…amusing.

“Uhm…y-...yes. Well…sorta? I figured this was just another…casual, hang-out night for us!” Your quiet, timid voice spoke aloud.

March lowered his glass, and he hummed.

“Casual? I suppose one could consider this casual, if they’d prefer.” March said, “All the same, I’ve called you here because…I have a proposition for you!”

“Wh-uh…what kinda proposition, sir?” 

“Let’s not dance around the matter any longer, dear. Simply put, I’m well aware.” He said.

Confusion overtook your delicate features, and your brows knitted together. March sat still in his seat with a knowing smirk. You tilted your head, bringing your own glass down to the table.

“I’m…confused. You’re aware of what, exactly?” 

“Why, that you’re in love with me, of course.” March stated.

Your eyes widened further. March caught the awkward movement of one of your hands. It trembled where it lay on the table. And when you spoke again, you did so shyly. Your voice was as soft as the pink in your cheeks.

“A-Am I?” You dared to ask. As though he hadn't known all these years.

March’s knowing grin spread wider. A dark, domineering color washed over his eyes. And he fixed you with an intimidating look. One that could so easily kill, had you been anyone else. Even in death, you felt your stomach twist in fluttery knots at the sight. You dropped your bashful gaze to the table, too nervous to look him in the eye. You were being avoidant, March knew. And your denial only heightened his desire to bait you.

“I’m not stupid, old friend. For how long?” He asked.

“Since…” You swallowed nervously, shrinking in on yourself, “...the moment I saw you.”

March’s expression remained unchanged. His cold gaze unblinking.

“All this time?”

Taking a brave chance at looking him in the eye, you glanced upward. And you were met with that empty, black gaze. Pools of ink, much like an abyss, stared intensely at you. You didn’t need to say anything further. His suspicions were confirmed then. March’s brows pressed together in thought.

“I…see.” He said, and he brought his hand to his chin, “Well, in all those years? You’ve proven yourself undoubtedly loyal to me. You see, so often, when Ms. Evers was around. Though, I did care for her. She had these…maddening tendencies. She’d express her apparent distaste for my darling wife. And she was incredibly passive. Selfishly so.”

As March spoke, his tone shifted. Infected with a venomous sting, and unbridled hatred. His other hand, resting on the table, clenched into a fist. 

“As you’re aware…Ms. Evers…she deceived me. In the name of love, was her excuse. Such a…disappointing betrayal.” March lingered on the statement for a moment longer. 

He snapped himself out of his spiteful rage. Blinking, March perked up. And his handsome grin returned.

“But, you! You’re quite the opposite of her, aren’t you? Wouldn’t you say? Never once have you said an unkind word. You’ve always been so polite to my dearest Mrs. March. And so generous to me! I can't recall you ever acting selfishly. And for that, I must tell you, I am profoundly grateful. It's so dreadfully difficult to find someone you can trust these days.”

“O-Of course!” You nodded, speaking in a gentle tone, “I guess…I just don’t really care if you-uh…if you never feel the same way I do. Being by your side, sir…getting to see you every day…”

Dreamily, you sighed. Like a dame in a daze of infatuation. The sweetest smile graced your blushing face.

“To see that smile of yours. And those eyes…” You sighed once more, “To hear your heavenly voice…that’s enough for me.”

You allowed a little…indulgence to slip through your confessions. Admiration and adoration for March permeated within your every word. Looking at you, he could practically see with his own eyes the unconditional love scorching with a passionate fury in your eyes. He might’ve even felt for himself your amorous desire. It exuded like pheromones from your admittedly fetching body.

He almost found it…endearing.

March blinked, clearing his throat. He tugged at his collar.

“Yes…I trust your devotion knows no earthly bounds, my dear.” He said, bringing his hands together before him, “Which is why, I’d like to present to you…that proposition! I’m nothing, if not a man of mercy. And if anyone is more than deserving of my mercy, it’s you, old friend.” March pointed to you with a ring-clad finger. And curiously, you tilted your head. “If you recall…before my dearest passed? She and I often had those dinners together. One night a month! They were…so very special to me. Truly a gift. The only thing that kept me balanced in this endless, monotonous purgatory of my own design. …Such a treat it was…to share at least…one night with my beloved.”

“It must’ve been nice, sir. Especially after she passed? To have her around more often? I know that meant everything to you.”

“It did.” March smiled fondly. And yet, as quick as it came, his adoring smile fell.

A broken-hearted melancholy plagued his ghostly features.

“Though…our time together has…diminished these days. She avoids me anymore. Hasn’t spoken a word to me in…weeks. Do you know that, at last night’s dinner? She didn’t say a goddamn thing! And again, she’s run off in search of…the pleasures of other men…”

March stared off, his dead-eyed gaze dropping to the table.

“It’s a….barren feeling. The most desolate ache I’ve ever endured…” He confessed.

Sympathetic, little goof. You looked at him then with an expression of sympathy, and opened your mouth to speak. March interrupted you before you could even begin. The very, last thing he wanted was your pity. At the flip of a dime, March perked up once more. He clapped his hands together loudly, suddenly appearing chipper. Beaming a wide, uncannily sweet grin.

“But nevermind all that, darling! What I’m proposing…is of a similar nature. For you, if you’d like! If it’d satisfy your deepest, perverted desires? Then, for one night a month…I, James Patrick March, owner of the hotel Cortez and America’s most infamous executioner…am all yours!”

Your eyes flew open wide. Like a precious, vulnerable creature under the gaze of a vicious predator. And your darling face…it burned an even brighter shade of red. March’s smile crooked up into a smirk. Addicting it was…this influence he seemed to have over you. Precious thing.

“Wait…wh-...what??” You waved your hands, “Oh, no, no, no! I couldn’t ever ask that of you, sir! Please, really! Don’t even worry about it! I’m not-...I don’t have to have you in that way to survive our purgatory together!”

The silence that overtook the room was deafening. In the background, the ticking of an old clock rang on. Along with the distant, alluring melody of a gramophone. John McCormack. Roses of Picardy. March stood up after some time. And slowly, steadily, he made his way to you at the other end of the dining table. He approached you wordlessly, eyes like obsidian focused entirely on your own. Analyzing and observing. Once close enough, he reached a large hand out. His palm fell to your shoulder, squeezing you in a firm grip. Leaning in, March spoke in a low, gravelly tone.

“Are you suggesting that you’re…ungrateful? You do realize this is…a gracious gesture…coming from a man of my status…” He didn’t break eye contact with you for even a second. March’s grip on your shoulder tightened, “...don’t you, little one?"

Despite the menacing nature of his actions, you let your eyes so shamelessly trail up and down his fancily-dressed form. And March saw all of it. Every movement of your eyes. The motion of your throat as you swallowed. The not-so-subtle way you leaned into his touch. How your thighs pressed together as if to relieve some…personal tension.

He raised a brow. Curious.

Your eyes sparkled innocently up at him. And again, you fluttered those delicate lashes. 

“I’m not ungrateful, sir! I’m so honored. I mean, obviously, I’m honored! But…” You scoffed, as if in disbelief, “But, me? I mean…come on… you ? With me??” With a soft huff of a laugh, you looked down at your lap, “But…I’m not…Mrs. March. I’m…nothin’ like her.”

March hummed a sound which suggested his pity for you.

“You’re right. You’re not…” He muttered in monotone, “You lack everything my dearest Elizabeth has. Her grace. Her ethereal elegance. She…is a creature of divinity.” March paused for a beat, “But you’ve no confidence nor class, I’m afraid. You’re more…a being of the mundane.” 

Again, a sinister loathing invaded his gaze. 

“But…unlike Ms. Evers…wretched, old bat…” He growled.

A wild grin spread across March’s lips, his teeth sinking into them. He brought his other hand to your chin, gently tilting it upward. Upon your face, he caught a broken-hearted frown.

“You, darling…” He hummed, “You have been blessed with certain…more pleasant qualities…”

His hand on your shoulder grazed a thumb across it. March let his eyes drop to your figure, as if to suggest something. And in that instant, you felt your lifeless heart skip a beat. As though your soul were springing to life again. Born anew.

“I…have?” You furrowed your brows, “So…what you’re sayin’ is…this is you settling? For someone lesser?”

March hummed again, considering your words. He pulled both hands from you.

“I prefer to think of it this way. In return for your undeniable devotion and loyalty throughout the tenure of our friendship. I’m giving you the opportunity to be with me. Consider it a reward, if you will. However you wish, my dear. One night a month, you can have me. Romantically. Physically. Intimately.” 

“Uh…okay…wow! That’s-...that’s…very kind of you, sir.” You stared up at March with those doting eyes. Biting your lip, you hesitated to ask, “So…wh-...when would we-uhm…when would we start?” A pause, and you nervously stammered over your words, “I-if I were to-uh…accept your…generous proposition?”

Immediate eagerness. Exactly the response he’d suspected from someone as smitten as yourself. March leered down at you smugly, his eyes falling half-lidded

Desperate, little thing, weren’t you?

“Tonight, if you’d prefer! Or…any night of your choosing. Whatever you want, darling. I insist. This courtesy is entirely yours.” He suggested.

A moment of contemplative quiet passed as you thought it over. And March watched you like a hawk, patiently waiting. Though, he already knew exactly what you were going to say. Even before you’d made a decision. The rosy color blooming darker in your cheeks ultimately gave you away.

“T-Tonight then? If you’ll…have me.” You stammered, “I’m honored, sir.”

March wanted to laugh. To boast that he could read you all too well. But calmly, he nodded.

“Very well!” 

He walked off then. March pulled at the fabric of his bowtie, tugging until it came completely undone. Following that motion, he shrugged his jacket off. Folding it neatly and setting it aside, he moved to unbutton the first, few buttons of his dress shirt. March disappeared into another room, out of sight. But you heard his familiar, smoky voice call out.

“Come!”

Hesitating, you stood from your seat at the table. And with tiny, careful steps, you followed the sound of March’s voice. In a vintage loveseat, you found him waiting. He sat with his chin in his hand, a cigarette burning between two fingers. His legs were spread open wide. And he patted his lap.

“Best not to waste anymore time, dear.”

“Wh-...What are we doin’?” You asked, looking down at your hands as you fiddled with them. 

Poor dear. You were standing in the room so timidly. Looking innocent, and so very delicate. Like a frightened, fluffy, little deer. Easy game, for a hunter like March.

“Isn’t this what you want?” He took a drag of his cigarette, his tone low and vibrating. March spread his legs open further, “Don’t be bashful, now, little one. I’ll only bite if you ask it of me.” 

You seemed hesitant. Fearful of making any sudden moves. But, with a facade of confidence March knew all too well you didn’t possess, you approached him. And you lowered yourself into his lap slowly, struggling to maintain eye contact. Eye contact was one of March’s many, gifted talents. And being such a shy dame, you could barely keep up. Once snug on his lap, you took time to admire March. Carefully, you trailed your hands down his chest. And you let your trembling fingers brush the fabrics of his perfectly tailored clothes. Clothes once deep-cleaned of blood-stains by the very maid he considered an abomination. 

Your hands moved upwards, first tracing over the bloody slit in his neck. Before cupping his cheeks for only a moment. You brushed a small thumb over one of his dimples. March smiled at you, hardly invested in what you were doing. Allowing you to have your fun. You touched March with careful, delicate movements. Handling him as if he were your most precious, priceless treasure. You looked at him as though you couldn’t fathom the reality before you. As though being with him like this was a foggy, distant dream. One you’d never ask to wake from.

Daringly, you leaned in. And you let your cool breath ghost over his lips.

“A-Are you sure about this, sir?” You asked, timid as ever.

March appeared unbothered and uncaring. Yet, admittedly, he felt somewhat curious of your next move. How far could a shy, innocent thing like you take this…intimate interaction? March assumed you’d clock out after a bit of heavy petting. With an equanimous smirk, he nodded.

“Positively certain.” He muttered, “And please, while we’re together like this, darling? Do call me James. You can forgo the formalities.” 

You blinked, amazed. Looking into his eyes with all the love and adulation in the ever-expanding cosmos. Marveling in his presence. Your nose brushed his, and you leaned even further in.

And you kissed him.

It was a clumsy, graceless kiss at first. But as you continued, you found your confidence. A heated flow enveloped your every movement. And for the first, few kisses, March didn’t reciprocate. He kept a hand at the armrest of the loveseat. His other occupied with that cigarette. He didn’t care to touch you yet. But as your kisses drew him in deeper, as you mewled little noises into his lips…March found himself giving in. One of his large hands found your hips, squeezing there first. Before moving to wrap his arm around your back. He pulled you in close. And you ran your hands up through his hair. Freeing those irresistible curls of his.

Finally, at long last, he kissed you back. And in that instant, you drank in the motions of a man far more cultivated and refined than you could ever hope to be. In a thousand lifetimes, you could never live up to his status. And yet, he kissed you anyway. If you could taste, his lips would’ve tasted of champagne and nicotine.

“Wow-” You breathlessly gasped into his lips.

A flash of fire burned in his lidded eyes, and he peered up at you. March let out a soft, vibrating chuckle. 

“Eager are we, darling?”

“Uh…” Poor, little goof. Still so lost in your lovestruck daze, “I just-”

The urge to kiss March again proved far too much for you to resist. You leaned in again, capturing his skilled lips in another flurry of deep kisses. And when you pulled back, you shook your head. For a moment, you simply stared at March. Taking in his ghostly features. Admiring his handsome face, his black eyes, the curls of his hair.

“Thank you, si-uhm…James. Thank you. I…never imagined…you’d ever let me touch you. Let alone k-uhm…kiss you like this…”

He chuckled again, humming a deep noise in his chest. The sound sent a spark of something gratifying straight to your core.

“I told you, didn’t I? I am, after all, a man of mercy…”

You brought a hand up to his cheek, stroking it gently with soft fingers. March noticed that, whenever you touched him, you did so as if he were a timeless lover. 

“You most certainly are…” Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his forehead, “...so gracious.”

March hadn’t expected you to wiggle backwards. And where did you think you were going? Were you giving up already? Giving into your paranoid worries? You let yourself sink off his lap and onto your knees. Scooting your way across the carpet and in between his legs, you gazed up at March with those lovely, doe eyes.

“You know…I’d do anything for you, don’t you James?” You trailed your hands up to his trousers, your fingers fiddling with the buttons, “...is this alright?”

To say he was caught off guard by your boldness, would be one hell of an understatement. His innocent, pure-of-heart, little goof? Submitting to him on their knees so easily like this? How had he never suspected this of you? March’s empty eyes widened, watching you from above with a dark, predatory gaze.

“If it’s what you so desire, then…do continue. I’m not going to stop you. This is your night, little one. Don’t you remember?”

You stared at him for a moment longer, uncertain of yourself. Before finally working the buttons of his trousers open. Bringing a small hand through the slit in the fabric, you felt around. And your fingers brushed across-

An adorable gasp escaped your lips.

You…hadn’t expected him to be hard. If the surprised, embarrassed look on your face was anything to go by. Because surely, the James Patrick March himself couldn’t possibly be aroused over someone as mundane as you. Could he?

Sucking in a slow breath, you continued. Your fingers snuck their way through the softness of his undergarments. A bit of movement, and you pulled his thick cock free. At the sight of the twitching length, those sparkling eyes of yours lit up brightly. Beaming, as if mesmerized. You were practically drooling over his cock. And you’d barely touched it at all.

March’s breath hitched from above. He watched you attentively, focused on the movement of your small hand. It stroked and squeezed around the thickness of him. Somewhat skillfully, he’d have to admit. Almost as though you knew exactly what you were doing. How is it that here, touching him intimately, you weren’t the least bit clumsy?

You bravely tilted your head upward, meeting his darkening gaze.

“You said…I could do whatever I wanted?” You asked. Your tone had fallen considerably lower. It sounded seductive, even, “May I sing your praises, James?” 

March had never heard you speak in that tone before. He hadn't realized you were even capable.

Wordlessly, he nodded. You gave a few more firm strokes of his cock, leaning in to kiss the tip gently. And as the soft wetness of your lips brushed it, you hummed. Reveling in every second you had March like this. Even in such a filthy, perverted position. With the head of his leaking cock at your lips. Your eyes glimmered, acting as windows. And your complete devotion for him shined through like the light of the sun. Holding eye contact (when did you get so good at that?), you generously peppered his cock in mouthy, wet kisses.

“Just let me worship you, James…” You sighed, dragging your free hand down one of his thighs. Your nails drew lines into the fabric, “Let me appreciate you. That’s…really the only thing I could ever ask for.”

He kept watching you, occasionally taking long drags from his cigarette. March found himself in awe of your boldness and honesty. Though, if there was one thing he knew about you for certain. You were always honest with him. Turning your attention to his aching cock, you pushed the head past your lips. You lapped up the bead of precum leaking from the tip, mewling in pure delight. Suckling for a few beats too short, you pulled away by an inch.

“You…are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. Did you know that, James? Have I ever told you? I could stare at you all day. Every day. Forever, if you let me. You’ve got the most stunning, beautiful, brown eyes…”

You paused in the midst of your praises to push the tip of his cock past your lips again. Letting your tongue dance around it, you stroked the remaining length with your hand. And just when he thought you might give him more, you pulled away.

“You can’t imagine how thrilling it is to have those ferocious eyes looking down on me right now. Oh, and I absolutely adore your smile. How full your lips are. Kissing them was like a gift of temptation, straight from the depths of hell. And I am in no way deserving of such a thing…”

March was steadily beginning to lose his composure. That calm, unbothered demeanor of his teetered on the edge. Threatening to fall with every cutesy noise you made, and every flick of your tongue. With each confession of your deepest admirations, he felt himself breaking. March knew you loved him. He knew you found purpose in serving him. And yet, somehow, he hadn’t been aware of the extent at which your worship of him ran. He took another drag of his cigarette. March’s free hand found your hair, and his oversized palm settled there. He didn’t yet tug, but merely braced himself.

“No modern man dresses nearly as elegantly as you do. Those men at those high-class fashion shows? The ones they have here? They can’t even begin to compare. It’s almost intimidating…how refined and elegant you truly are.”

You halted your confessions, only to take the entire length of his twitching cock into your mouth. Moaning around it, you sucked hard. Letting your tongue drag along the underside, across pulsing veins. You pulled off all over again. And March’s grip in your hair tightened only slightly. You continued to stroke his cock, spreading the wetness your tongue left behind.

“You’re so intimidating. So good at striking fear into those around you. But, god…it only makes me more attracted to you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough of you…”

Breaking eye contact, you focused on his cock. You stopped to admire the heavy weight of him on your tongue. And you had the nerve to giggle with the innocence of a dame in church. March remained speechless. He stared you down as you took his full length into your mouth again. Your praises fell short for a bit. Instead, you were fixated on pleasuring him with more enthusiasm. Your movements slowly grew rapid. But as you edged him further, you popped off. You nuzzled his soaked, aching cock with your cheek. And once more, you giggled. It was infuriating.

“I wish you could hear your voice. Fuck…your voice. Your accent. It’s to die for!” The smile you gave him radiated purity, and you bit your swollen lip between your teeth, “You’re to die for. Y’know? I’d die for you. Over and over again.”

Dragging your tongue up and down his cock, you peppered it in more, loving kisses. And you fluttered those pretty lashes.

“As many times as you wanted me to. If I could die by your hands, James, I would. If it’d make you happy? If cutting my throat and watching the life drain from my eyes would satisfy you…”

March’s grip in your hair tightened even further, clenching around your soft locks. 

Who knew his little goof could be such a shameless sycophant? Groveling over his deviant passions.

He was growing immensly impatient. You’d carried on this little charade of praises for far too long. When you lowered your mouth over his cock, March guided you. With the rough hold he had on your head, he forced you down. The action caught you by surprise. As the tip of his cock pressed into the back of your throat, you gagged, squeezing around the head. And a pleased grunt erupted off March’s tongue, cigarette smoke rising from his lips. Reaching over the arm of the loveseat, he put the cigarette out in an ashtray. And while doing so, March kept his half-lidded eyes, dark as burning coals, on you. His throbbing length filled your throat, and you took all of it. Every inch. You squeezed his thigh hard with a hand, letting your fingernails dig into the fabric of his trousers. As you clawed at his thigh for purchase, a wicked grin spread across his face. Salty tears stung your pretty eyes. They poured down your flushed cheeks completely out of your control. An embarrassing display. March’s breathing picked up in pace. He jerked you backwards, pulling you off his cock by your hair. Generously, he allowed you a moment to catch your breath. Not that you needed it, really. Being dead and all. Smirking down at you, he sank his teeth into his lip. And upon his pale cheeks, you caught the slightest hint of a pink hue.

You’d never once seen March blush on account of something you did.

“Y-You were…you were saying, darling?” March, usually so well spoken, stumbled over his words.

With a smile, you returned to your previous motions. Dragging your tongue lazily up and down his cock, you stroked him with a hand.

“U-Uhm…” That timid nature of yours returned. Perhaps on account of his manhandling? But you fought to shake it off, “Y’know somethin’ else I love about you, James? That look in your eye. I can’t even describe it. When you’re feelin’ bloodthirsty? When you’re thinkin’ about unleashin’ hell? You look divine like that.”

His gaze turned colder then. March’s fingers dug fingernails further into your skull. And the gesture was near painful. He didn’t seem to care, even when you hissed in response to the sting. Your puffy lips and mouth were drenched in drool. And your hair! His rough handling left it frazzled and wild. You looked an absolute mess of yourself. And in any other circumstance, March would’ve found it repulsive. At this moment, however…

“That…storm in your eyes. The passion that rages on once you’ve taken the life of another. There’s somethin’ so…irresistible about it. Makes me wish I could’ve dropped on my knees and worshiped you like this sooner.” You covered his cock in those mouthy, sloppy kisses, “I just want to submit myself to you, James. Let you have all of me.”

“Really now? Is that how you feel, little one? Truly? ” He spoke suddenly, catching you by surprise.

His fingers curled harshly into your hair, and he pulled you back in a rough, swift motion.

“Enough of this.” March said, “I realize, I said before, this was your night. And you should be the one calling the shots, with me at your leniency. However, since you seem to want my attention so desperately, darling. You’re going to listen to me now.”

You stared up at him with a wide-eyed, sinless gaze. And you didn't dare to say a single word. Good then.

“On the floor. And strip yourself bare for me, would you?” He commanded.

You let yourself fall backwards. And with the motion, March’s grip in your hair loosened. He let go, keeping his eyes on you, as you scooted back along the carpeted floor. The rough surface burned the skin of your elbows. But in death, it didn’t matter. Come tomorrow, you'd be left with not a single mark. Zero evidence of the night's events. Hastily, you shed your clothes. Your fingers trembled with every movement. March followed, standing slowly from his seat. He watched as you laid yourself naked and bare before him. And he pulled down his suspenders. His pants followed, leaving him in those soft undergarments. March hadn’t yet removed his dress shirt, and he didn’t bother to now.

He dropped to his knees on the floor, crawling over you with an animalistic gaze in his eyes. Immediately upon reaching you, he kissed you deeply. Drinking down every surprised noise you made in response. Your noises. Those mewls and squeals. He wanted to hear more. He had to hear more.

March wasn’t the fondest of missionary. But that devotion, that love, that worship bleeding profusely from your eyes. He didn’t want to miss a single moment of it. March found he needed to look at you. To watch you. His hands trailed down your body, touching you with precise grace. Each touch started with a delicate brush of his fingertips, steadily growing rougher. And there you were, pleasured by the hands of a murderer with almost a hundred years of practice behind him.

As he looked you over with those dark eyes, he could see you slipping so easily into madness. Submitting to him, an eternal ghost of pure malevolence.

And you were pushed even further over the brink once March buried two, long fingers in your cunt. All without a single warning. No preparation. He shoved his digits deep, watching you with a devious smirk. You breathlessly moaned, and your slick walls squeezed around his fingers. March knew every angle at which to twist and press his digits. Only to spur more of those lovely noises out of you.

His long, dexterous fingers pulled themselves from your cunt, and you longed for more. You ached for him, whining pitiful, little protests. And your desperate desire was soon satiated.

In one, rough motion, March forced his cock through your folds. He buried himself deep in a single thrust, growling a rough noise in response to your screams. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him. And you pulled March closer, inching him impossibly deeper.

He hadn’t been this…intimate with another person in…what felt like a millenia. Having his cock buried to the hilt in the tight plush of your cunt…it was enough to make him lose it. March had to take a moment to gather himself. Before he began harshly drilling you into the floor. And the rug underneath you burned painfully against your skin. Though, in this position, you couldn’t help but find the sensation extremely gratifying.

Your screams were all the encouragement he needed. And you begged him to fuck you harder. To vent all his pent up anger and fury using your fragile body as his aid. March gazed down at you, his eyes carrying a near sinister edge. The pace at which he fucked you grew vigorous and unrelenting. A jolt of pleasure shot through your core suddenly, as March pressed his deft fingers to your clit. Rubbing slick, generous circles against the sensitive bud, he soaked in the sight of you falling apart underneath him. Your precious moans were like music to his ears.  March cooed quiet praises in a rugged voice, encouraging you to give in. To succumb to the sweet allure of release. He knew you needed it desperately. All the pent up desire you'd carried for him for so long must have felt torturous. A man of mercy, he was. He couldn't allow you to suffer like that any longer. Not after all you'd done for him. After having been so loyal.

He felt your release, as it hit you like a rushing wave. Your walls constricted around his cock in a tight pull, and your entire body trembled. Those delightful screams of yours were more than likely heard across every floor of the hotel. But March's mind was much too hazy with pleasure to care. He wanted the world to hear you. For you to let them all know just who it was you'd submitted yourself to entirely. And as you came down from your high, sobbing soft cries. You met his eyes. Tears rained down your cheeks, and you shivered under his cold gaze. How vulnerable you looked... 

One of March’s large, veiny hands found your neck. He squeezed with so much strength that, had you been alive; he easily would’ve cut off your circulation. However, in death, the ache that came with asphyxiation felt like euphoria. Under the pressure of his fingers and hands, you were ascending to the stars. Or, rather…considering you were getting mercilessly fucked by a devilish being such as March? Perhaps a more accurate comparison would be: March was dragging you violently down to an all too pleasurable circle of hell itself.

His cock hit your cervix with a few more, harsh thrusts of his hips. And you were left to suffer the ache of overstimulation. As he squeezed your neck hard enough to leave bruises, and tight enough to kill any living person. March reached his peak. A thick warmth burst from his cock, overflowing you from deep inside. His release filled you up until it leaked from your folds. Purity and innocence sullied. You were his little goof now.

You probably expected March to pull out, now that you received exactly what you wanted. Surely, March would move away from you. Only to clean up, redress himself, and go about his business. Keeping his distance until the next month came. And…he thought he’d have done the same. March didn’t care for you on a deep level of any kind. A loyal dog. That’s all you were. A follower. Indeed. A naive, not-so-innocent, little goof. Who also, just so happened to be completely and utterly in love with him. 

And March was not at all enchanted by your obsessive devotion. Why would he be? There was only one woman for him. His dearest wife. His Elizabeth. Mrs. March. If anything, you were simply a means of distraction. Easy company in light of his most lonesome days. His old friend. You weren’t graceful. You weren’t classy. You were, at your core, his polar opposite. Of course. Yes. In the euphoric haze of post-orgasmic bliss, he'd almost forgotten. 

But even so…

March found he couldn’t pull himself from you. For a few moments longer, he kept his softening cock buried inside your slick walls. There he rested, on his knees, staring down at you from above. His gaze was much less blackened. Instead, replaced with a warm brown. Leaning forward, March buried his flushed face in your shoulder. He nibbled the gentle skin of your collarbone, breathing out his exhaustion.

He chuckled a hushed, but maniacal noise. The vibrations of which tickled your bruised skin. Not to worry, those bruises wouldn’t be there tomorrow. Some possessive part of him wished they would be, though. March raised his head up, looking down into your eyes with a soft, more than satisfied smirk. The curls of his hair fell even more loose upon his head. And once more, he leaned in, only to brush his nose against yours.

“You know…” He mumbled in a croaky whisper. You felt him slowly, gently thrust his hips forward, “...the night is still young, little one. And there’s so much more the two of us could do together…should you be interested...” 

His lips met yours in a kiss far too intimate for a casual session of coitus. And you kissed him nervously back, as though you weren’t allowed to indulge yourself. That familiar sense of naivety and purity claimed you all over again. And for whatever reason, it made March want to kiss you more. To envelop you entirely, all his own. His old friend. His little goof. Poor, not-so-innocent sap.

Maybe he was...a little fond of you.

Only a little.

[enchantedlandcoffee]

November 2023 Fic Recs

Happy 28th everyone!! Here's a list of a few fics I've read in November 2023.

⋆☆Series☆⋆

laur's nutvember 2023 series by @greeneyesfriedrice

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

⋆☆Fics☆⋆

words weren't enough by @red-pandaaa

Louis wandered into the living room, just watching Harry play for a bit. It made Louis’ heart crack a little, seeing him like that; hunched over the keys, the muscles on his back tense. But it was a quiet sniffle that Louis finally jerked into action, carefully approaching the slumped figure on the piano bench. “Hey, darling.” OR Louis finds Harry practicing the piano piece for his last show late at night, and there are some tears, memories and playing the piano together involved

it's a three way call and he knows nothing by shiptattoo | @wecantalktomorrow

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Friends to Lovers, Nonbinary Louis Tomlinson, Porn with Feelings

And, well, fuck. If that wasn’t all the permission they needed. Louis leaned in and pressed their lips to Harry’s quickly, kissing her in the way they had dreamed about since the day they met her. All of the pent up control and hunger escaped as they tried to devour her mouth with their own. Harry dropped the phone to the bed, wrapping her arms around Louis’s neck and pulling them in closer as they kissed. Her lips parted in a gasp at the ferocity behind it, moaning wantonly when Louis’s tongue slipped into her mouth, sucking at it hungrily as it explored. “Gonna treat you so good."

Eating Out by @red-pandaaa | red_panda28

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff

So maybe Harry had a crush on his roommate turned best friend. No big deal. He coped in the best way possible: by making jokes and sexual innuendos at any given time. Glossing over his feelings with humour and sarcasm to make sure Louis knew he found the idea of doing anything remotely romantic or sexual with Louis completely ridiculous. OR Louis and Harry are best friends and roommates, they're both oblivious to the other's pining, and it takes a silly misunderstanding for them to finally admit their feelings

Must Be Love by @babyhoneyheslt

General Audiences | Niall Horan/Harry Styles | Murder Mystery, Falling In Love, Even Planning, Strangers to Lovers

Niall always runs from his problems. So fleeing from London to the quiet Welsh town Hay-On-Wye isn’t surprising. Being a suspect in a murder case is. And so is falling for the cute bookshop owner that’s trying to help him clear his name.

There's a devil in your smile (it's chasing me) by @lunarheslwt

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Angel Harry Styles, Demon Louis Tomlinson, Porn Without Plot

“Come on, angel,” Louis coaxed, sweet in a way purely reserved for him. A helpless shudder rippled through him. “Know how much you love letting me have my way with you.” Harry inhaled sharply in time with Louis dragging his lips up to his ear, before he was whispering hotly, “Know you can be so good and ask for it.” A sharp sound was pulled out of him as Louis sucked at his ear lobe. “For me.” And when the plea finally left Harry’s lips, it was punched out, greedy. “Please.” Louis’ slow, pleased smile and unwavering eye contact was balm to his frantic, simmering arousal. “Please what, darling?” “Please,” he gasped, unable to look away, burning under Louis’ intense gaze, “my wings … please tie them up.” Or, angel Harry learns of the true pleasure that surrendering and giving up control can bring, and demon Louis teaches him the virtue of patience.

love is a word, you gave it a name by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Famous Louis Tomlinson, Non-Famous Harry Styles, Age Difference, Older Louis Tomlinson, Genderfluid Harry Styles

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey

Explicit | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | Harry Styles is Marcel, First Time, Enemies to Lovers, Friends With Benefits

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin. Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong? Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

[shachaai]

[Hetalia Version] The Lindworm’s Lullaby

Chapters: 4/14 Rating: Explicit (For Gore) Main Relationships: Arthur Kirkland (England)/Gabriel Cardoso Fernandes (Portugal) Characters: Arthur Kirkland (England), Gabriel Cardoso Fernandes (Portugal), Original Child Character(s), Ludwig Beilschmidt (Germany), Julia Blumenschien (Fem Prussia), Kiku Honda (Japan), Lovino Vargas (South Italy), Assorted Others Other Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Human AU, FBI Murder Mystery/Thriller, Case Fic, Adapted from a Hannibal Fic, Baby Fic, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Gabriel Fernandes, Omega Arthur Kirkland, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Single Parent Arthur Kirkland, Violence and Gore Canon-Typical to Hannibal Levels, Cute Moments and Murder, Murder Scenes, Dead Bodies, Poisoning, Discussions about torture/infidelity/rape

The FBI is called in to investigate when a series of bodies shows up around Ohio: all of them alphas, and all of them skinned alive. With the killer’s motives a mystery, Ludwig Beilschmidt pulls Arthur Kirkland from the classroom and his vigil at the comatose Madeline Williams’ bedside once more to lend his insight to the case - with very little mind paid to the fact that the busy Arthur, omega and single mother to a six month-old daughter, might have some scheduling issues. Necessity - and pressure from Ludwig - drives Arthur into reluctantly asking Gabriel Fernandes for a favour at short notice. Gabriel is delighted to help Arthur with babysitting - once he has, of course, recovered from both the surprise of learning that Arthur Kirkland even has a baby to care for and, presented with the adorable armful that is a sleepy Lenore Kirkland, feeling a little skinned raw himself.

*****

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

*****

*****

Chapter 4: fancy unto fancy

Arthur’s advice to Gabriel, mostly sent via text, is to take a longer and more circuitous route from Quantico to the Kirkland home in Wolf Trap rather than relying solely on the interstate highways. Fairfax County, where Wolf Trap is located, is part of the Washington metropolitan area and has the notorious achievement of being the third-worst area in the entirety of the United States of America for congested traffic. The effect is at its worst during rush hour, tired workers of the 9-to-5 regime making the commute to and from D.C., but the demands of the capital necessitate a workforce available at all hours of the day and night - and, thus, ascertain that the arteries which supply aforementioned workforce will never be clear.

Gabriel takes the - unavoidable - I-95 north from Quantico in Arthur’s thoroughly-used car, the faint odour of damp canine and baby shampoo in his nose. The olfactory mix is strange but infinitely preferable to the overpowering and abominably artificial pine of Arthur’s car freshener which had assaulted Gabriel as soon as he had gotten behind the wheel of Arthur’s Volvo, drilling something sharp, chemical and lime green straight through to the back of his skull with all the painful, migraine-inducing grace of an ice-pick. Snatching up the little tree dangling from the rearview mirror, Gabriel had (after reading the 100% biodegradable obnoxiously emblazoned across its chemical-soaked surface) thrown the freshener out of the driver-side window with extreme prejudice, wiping his befouled hand - somewhat - clean afterwards on the leg of his trousers.

Lenore Kirkland immediately demonstrates better taste than her mother by clapping her little starfish hands together and shrieking with glee as the little tree, caught at once by the wind, whips past her window, dropping her drool-wet stuffed dog toy from her mouth onto her lap.

The infant’s absolute delight at such a simple thing is a pleasure to witness, the joy of discovery suffusing Lenore’s little body entirely and rendering her a creation of pure and innocent grace. A spotless child of the biblical Garden, still unaware yet of the difference between the corrupt definitions of Good and Bad. Still unspoilt by either serpents or gods, untainted by the taste of bittersweet knowledge on the tongue.

Lenore all but glows and her sweetly childish jouissance draws the twitch of a smile from Gabriel when he glances at the infant every so often in the rearview mirror. Focusing on the night black of her curls when the memories of another happily shrieking little brunette girl threaten to rise up close to the forefront of his mind, distant days where it had been bubbles blown through golden baby bracelets entertaining the little one, Gabriel humming nursery rhymes himself rather than listening to the vibration of recorded strings on the radio.

For all she remains obstinately awake, Lenore is a pleasant enough companion on their hour-long journey through Virginia to her home. She ba ba bas her way through several Mozart suites on the radio and listens in rapt silence to Saint-Saëns’ The Swan. (Relative silence. There is something coloured neon yellow and green rolling around in the passenger-side footwell that rattles loudly every time it moves, which Gabriel strongly suspects is one of Lenore’s baby toys.) She coos in fascination at the bright yellow car in the lane beside them at one set of traffic lights, and makes a long drawn-out ohh of wonder when Gabriel points out a whale-shaped cloud to her on their right.

Gabriel turns off the interstate as they approach Wolf Trap, taking the smaller roads that twist and turn through affluent suburbia in an effort to avoid the Dulles Toll Road. Multiple signs point to the way to the Wolf Trap National Park for the Performing Arts and all its associated performance halls, to the Meadowlark Botanical Gardens and countless parks and nature reserves full of winding trails and fishing spots. Woods and forests nestle leisure, culture and art in their bosom, and each turn in the road brings a new little patch of houses, a few shops, another sign pointing the way to another park - or a much less halcyonic Walmart.

Lenore is still quietly singing to herself (motivated, now, by Bach’s Air on a G String) as Gabriel makes the turn down the road that the sat-nav promises him will be the final one before the Kirkland home. The road is lined with trees. The red evening sun flashes down on Gabriel’s arms as he passes beneath the foliage, the asphalt ahead lined by the shadow bars of overhead branches and the speckled pattern of leaves swaying in the breeze. Here and there, between the trunks either side of the road, Gabriel catches glimpses of endless fields and scrubland, large individual homes at the end of long driveways. As fewer newer builds - McMansions - as older, more traditional ones.

Obviously - and more obviously by the second -, Arthur Kirkland lives as far away from other people as both convenience and suburbia will allow him to. Even though he’s still driving down the same road as before it has been some time since Gabriel last saw a patch of dwellings clustered close to one another, and the distance between mailboxes along the road is growing cumulatively longer and longer with each one passed. And yet. The turn-off to the home of Arthur’s nearest neighbour, the one Arthur had referred to as Nancy, is, truly, quite difficult to miss. One bright red mailbox thrusts itself prominently out into the road beside a well-kept and clean beige gravel drive, with multiple bright flower stickers covering the mailbox and multi-coloured yarn knitted around its pole. Someone has hung Chinese-style lanterns in the nearby trees - along with what looks like a giant knitted ladybird.

Gabriel ignores it. (Both the turn-off and the ladybird.) He had made up his mind about what he planned to do with Lenore that evening the moment he had laid eyes on the child, and none of it had ever involved foisting Lenore on the infamously be-permed Nancy.

Almost a full eight minute drive after Nancy’s mailbox, Gabriel’s sat-nav announces the turn-off to the Kirkland residence - apparently the last residential stop on the road for miles.

Gravel and dirt ping quietly off the body of the Volvo as Gabriel makes his way up the Kirklands’ drive, the vehicle's wheels crunching over dried leaves and browning sticks that have fallen onto the lane. The land around the drive - Arthur’s land - is still heavily wooded, obscuring the much-awaited sight of the FBI professor’s home until, quite abruptly, the treeline reaches its end and Gabriel is there.

In contrast to many of the large houses and mansions Gabriel had seen driving through the county, the house Arthur and Lenore Kirkland call home is a relatively normal-sized abode. Built farmhouse style, the house is a glimpse of rustic domesticity amidst fields of long, whispering grass, its clapboard walls painted a homely white in defiance of the not-too-distant shadowy woods. Ivy and honeysuckle climb the posts supporting the covered porch and local vegetation grows wild right up to the steps.

The front of the house is slipping into dark shadow as Gabriel inches up the gravel drive, the sun descending in the sky behind the building to the right, over what looks like a large barn or shed out in the nearby field. The sunset blazes some of its last glory even as Gabriel parks the Volvo and lets its engine die, a moment of perfect, still beauty hanging in the air like a teardrop from a phoenix’s eye.

Lenore Kirkland abruptly realises that the car’s radio has been switched off and starts shrieking in outrage, bursting apart the moment’s peace like a soap bubble in the sink.

Gabriel winces but leaves the infant to it. No doubt something else will take Lenore’s attention soon and the shrieking will stop, leaving Gabriel free to occupy himself with the other distractions Wolf Trap has to offer him. Just stepping out of the car he can hear multiple dogs barking inside the house - prompting the ruefully belated realisation in Gabriel that he had neglected to ask Arthur just how many dogs the professor actually owned. Too lost in his own starry-eyed wonder at the revelation of Lenore’s existence at the time, his thoughts sent in too many directions at once after only just learning about Arthur’s motherhood.

Some of Lenore’s charm begins to fade when the little girl, rather than quietening down, screams all the louder when Gabriel unbuckles her from her car seat, thoroughly upset now that music time is at an end. Even bringing her small body up against his shoulder does nothing; Lenore stubbornly refusing to be placated by her mother’s scent on the scarf that Arthur had loaned Gabriel, turning her face away from Gabriel’s throat and throwing a truly impressive baby temper tantrum with flailing hands and feet kicking against Gabriel’s chest. All the while shrieking. All furious infantile betrayal and upset. Endless wordless noise that makes Gabriel’s eardrums ring with Lenore so close to them in his arms.

With the infant protesting so much and so physically, Gabriel settles on taking just Lenore up from the car to the porch for now. Leaving their bags in the car, the tall grass parting around Gabriel’s ankles like Moses’ first faithful steps out into the waiting Red Sea. A divine miracle of timely seasonality.

Lenore rewards Gabriel’s focus on her care by kicking him rather hard - for a six month-old in soft footed pyjamas - in the ribs, prompting Gabriel to lift her teary scowling face up and away from his shoulder when they reach the cover of the porch. She throws Kitty behind them in the grass, and tears the clip of her pacifier from her cardigan when Gabriel tries to offer her the nub to chew on, flinging both pacifier and its beaded cord down in a melodramatic clatter on the porch’s planks. 

“That is hardly becoming behaviour for a little princess,” Gabriel firmly informs his charge, giving Lenore a gentle bounce in his arms. One, two: her mittens and the hood and little stubby tail on the back of her cardigan bounce as well. Her cheeks are red with fury. “Aren’t you going to welcome me to your home?”

Lenore yells even louder than before - directly into Gabriel’s ear. “Na! Nabayah!” And, louder and more defiantly to Gabriel’s third bounce - “NA!”

Her screeching has worked up the dogs inside the house even more. Judging by all the different barks, there has to be at least four canines in the pack; Gabriel can hear the thud of multiple heavy paws against the inside of the front door, the screen door rattling on the porch.

Inwardly, Gabriel sighs. It would be a bad idea to try and enter the house with Lenore in such a temper. Gabriel has some concern that Arthur’s dogs might actually attack him if they think he - a stranger - is endangering a member of their human family, so he takes a seat on the battered and creaking swing-seat nearby him on the porch instead. Rubbing soothingly against Lenore’s back even as the infant continues to scream, kick and flail at him, pushing his feet against the boards beneath them to set the swing-seat gently rocking.

If nothing else, Gabriel has to grudgingly admire the size of both Lenore Kirkland’s determinedly stubborn streak and her impressive lung capacity. Her passion for music. Perhaps Arthur has some fae banshee blood in him for his daughter to have inherited such a penchant for ear-splitting wailing, mother and daughter alike dark twin omens of imminent death and woe.

Gabriel will have to recommend Arthur get Lenore invested in swimming when she is a little older. With some training to accompany her natural ability, the child would be lethal underwater. Another Olympian for America or Great Britain’s swim-team - or a traditional ama of Japan, should the interest take her in that direction.

The wild grass in the fields continues to ripple and flow with the wind. In the distant trees, the shadows of birds take flight.

Gabriel begins to tell Lenore about ama as she continues to shriek against his shoulder and he continues to gently rock them both back and forth in Arthur’s creaking swing. Of the dwindling numbers of those freediving omega women of Japan who still dive without scuba gear or air tanks to bring up treasures from the deeps: seafood and abalones for shrines and the Japanese emperors. Shining sea pearls that had once birthed pearl aquaculture in Toba, Japan.

Ama begin their training in early adolescence, even before presentation of their secondary gender. Girls are favoured for the life due to the distribution of fat within their bodies, their perceived superior ability to hold their breath underwater for longer than boys. Of the secondary genders, omegas are preferred for their perceived purity. The touch of an omega is unable to taint the food or lustrous gems ama search for the way more carnal betas or alphas might do - but a truly talented beta or alpha could still, with enough persistence and patience for cleansing rituals, still be considered pure enough to remain an ama after presentation. The white uniforms - once, traditionally, only simple loincloths - worn by ama reflect their intensely honed skills and innate virtue, and their equally traditional headscarves are decorated with wards to bring them luck and protection whilst they dive.

Eventually, Lenore has to pause for breath. Eventually, Lenore has to pause for breath at a point when she is just too exhausted to pick up her wailing again afterwards, her small chest heaving against Gabriel’s larger one with tiredness. Sticky tears spot her cheeks like pearls and sea-spray.

“All finished?” Gabriel asks her then, his ears still ringing in the - relative - quiet.

Lenore hiccups back at him and burbles a long nonsense string of sad stuttering syllables, raising one of her hands to clumsily pat at Gabriel’s face again. Tug at one of his dangling curls. She smells like sour sweat and salt tears now over the creamy breastmilk note inherent to all infants, over the soft fruit and spice scents of her baby skin lotion and shampoo. Sadness and frustration.

“I know, ma boulette,” Gabriel comforts her, offering Lenore another gentle bounce when she hiccups wetly again, “I know. The universe is a large and uncaring place to exist within, and you are still so, so small. If God exists he answers prayers so rarely that to pray is to waste one’s breath, so scream as much as you feel the need to. If one cannot move Heaven, they must raise Hell instead.”

Lenore stares at him quizzically with her big, watery blue eyes, fat wobbling tears still clinging determinedly to her inky eyelashes. Gabriel brushes them away with the back of his knuckles before he lets Lenore snuggle-slump into the comfort of Arthur’s scarf again and all the scent trapped in its fibres, patting Lenore’s back with the slow and steady pace of a metronome to help her hiccups subside.

The sun has slipped well below the horizon now, somewhere behind the house, and long cool shadows snake their way up onto the covered porch where Gabriel sits with Lenore. It would hardly do for the infant to catch a chill so, after retrieving the abandoned Kitty and pacifier from the respective places Lenore had thrown them, Gabriel tries the door with the key Arthur had given him.

The dogs had stopped barking when Lenore stopped wailing, but they still rush out in an urgent wave of concern the moment the door swings open. And yes, dogs, plural: not two, not three, not even four but seven, a swirling maelstrom of wet noses and lashing tails that butt strongly against Gabriel’s ankles, knees and thighs. Two bark again at the sight of a stranger and one of the littlest - some terrier mix - growls, but all of them calm again when Lenore reaches down from her safe perch in Gabriel’s arms and babbles at them. Gives another little hiccup-hic, then giggles at herself.

Tails start tentatively wagging, and Kitty gets dropped again - bonking a momentarily confused border collie on the nose. Four of the seven dogs switch their priority from the stranger in their home to their need to go and relieve their bladders against a tree outside, leaving three - the terrier, an obviously elderly chihuahua mix with a tremendous underbite that may just be too tired to race off after the others, and a brindle-haired mutt with a sharp glint of intelligence in its eyes - to shadow Gabriel’s heels as he moves deeper into the Kirkland home, leaving the front door open behind him.

Even in the twilight gloom, Gabriel can see the continuous flow of being that moves through the Wolf Trap property, outside to inside to outside again. The interior’s colours are that of nature: that of stone and wood and foliage. The furniture is mismatched but alike in either deep orange, green, blue or brown, and the walls are painted a deep blue-green. Wide, open windows everywhere give sightlines to the fields everywhere around the main building, making the sky as much a backdrop of the rooms as the walls and ceilings are.

The front room - the living room - has a double-sized camp bed in it on one side. Arthur must use it as a daybed or casual nest for three sides of it have been piled high with overstuffed pillows, and the sheets in the soft basin that forms the middle of the nest are rumpled and unmade. It’s been recently used and smells strongly of both Arthur and Lenore from even a few metres away, a floating cloud of contentment that is drowsy with milk, with warm sunshine and sleep. The scent is as heavy in Gabriel’s nose as Lenore’s warm lulling weight is against his ribcage, a gentle tickling like featherdown at the back of Gabriel’s brain.

He turns his nose down into the collar of his shirt for a moment, breathing in the scent of his own cologne until his thoughts have lost some of their hazy edges.

The rest of the living room is dominated by bookshelves - packed tightly with a truly (fascinatingly) eclectic mix of fiction and non-fiction -, a fireplace, a dusty piano covered in tchotchkes, and several chairs. A table covered in shadowy unidentifiable objects has been positioned just so beneath one window so that, during the day, it must catch a favourable amount of light, but Gabriel cannot figure out what it might be used for until he switches on the overhead lights and literally illuminates himself.

Fishing. The crafting of fishing lures to be precise, though a line of fishing rods stand sentry on the wall beside the table, just waiting to be used. Drawers of bright threads and birds’ feathers sit beside rows of gleaming hooks, scavenged deer velvet and rabbit hair, a magnifying glass set up at the front of the table to study a half-finished lure waiting in its clamp for Arthur to return to it.

Gabriel admires both it and the rack of finished lures sitting at the back of the table: from what he can see, the craftsmanship of each of the lures is exquisite, the hooks beautifully, deceitfully, hidden from the sight of unsuspecting fish by glimmering scales and bright sprays of feathers. Lure by name, lure by nature.

Arthur has made an art of a bloodsport. Fishing is a hobby for the patient - and for the productive, taking life to bring life to others through food.

“Your mother is quite a remarkable man,” Gabriel informs Lenore, hoisting the little girl up in his arms again after she reaches down to wiggle her fingers at the brindle-haired mutt still dogging his footsteps. (Seeing that Gabriel is doing nothing of particular interest, the other two have given up.) “Isn’t he?”

“Ah-burr,” says Lenore quite seriously, and decides to wiggle her hot little fingers against Gabriel's face again instead, clumsily tracing the ridge of his nearest cheekbone.

Gabriel chooses to take that as agreement, silently observing the way the child’s pupils widen in wonder when she discovers the softness of his eyelashes - and making her giggle again when he blinks deliberately for her and tickles those lashes against her fingertips.

Brave curiosity ought to be rewarded.

The Kirkland home is, of course, not all rural serenity. Though the house is generally clean and obviously well-maintained, it cannot be denied that all the signs are there that Arthur Kirkland is the single mother to an infant child, with seven dogs, a very demanding and time-intensive job, and very little in the way of a support network. There is no dog hair on the furniture but the floor near the fireplace could do with some work, and chewed-up rope toys and tennis balls have been pushed under several seats and the nest Gabriel doesn’t dare to get too close to lest he mark it with his own alpha scent. Nearly every surface - including the piano’s closed lid - has been conquered by the type of clutter that always accumulates when raising a young child, and used baby bottles and empty mugs have been abandoned here, there and everywhere where an exhausted Arthur had no doubt left them during long and sleepless nights feeding Lenore.

Setting off to find the kitchen, the floorboards creak welcomingly under Gabriel’s feet. The brindle-haired dog and Lenore’s babbling keeps him company: both seem in happier spirits now, both equally fascinated by Lenore’s attempts to stick out her little pink tongue and blow raspberries at herself.

Gabriel wipes away the accumulating drool on her chin with Arthur’s scarf.

Beyond the living room, a small hallway leads to the dining room. The dining room table itself and two of its seats are currently occupied with dirty laundry - pre-sorted for a dark wash, lighter colours and woollens still dumped together at one side. Arthur must keep on top of the laundry; the dark pile is not too large and its contents seem relatively fresh, muddy towels, a few plaid shirts and some plain, darkly-coloured baby onesies waiting to be loaded into the washing machine in the dark kitchen just a little further on.

To the left is an open doorway leading upstairs. To the right is a mudroom, leading to another doorway outside.

Decisions, decisions.

Gabriel returns to the front room, negotiating with Lenore for a few moments to, firstly, wipe away the sticky tracks of tears from her face with wet wipes he finds on the piano, secondly, remove her from her little panda/fox cardigan, and, thirdly, place her in the baby rocker he’d spotted down by Arthur’s daynest. It isn’t the electronic kind but Lenore is still able to bounce herself if she wishes to, and the baby-proofed arch that hangs over her head is decorated with dangling bells and plush stars to encourage her to reach up and grab at them. Retrieving Kitty, once again, from the floor and handing her it earns Gabriel another point in the youngest Kirkland’s books - and the brindle-haired dog’s, who sits itself patiently and protectively down beside Lenore’s rocker as Gabriel leaves the house to go and retrieve both his and Lenore’s belongings from where he’d left them in Arthur’s car.

(As a group, Arthur’s canine pack make terrible guard dogs, but one of them, at least, might make for a ferocious nanny.)

Lenore is still, stubbornly, not asleep when Gabriel whistles all the dogs inside and returns to her side, but she seems placid enough with one of Kitty’s ears in her mouth again and her guardian dog’s nose resting on one of her little feet. The picture of a darling cherub, still all pink cheeks and glossy curls.

(As dangerous and deceitful a lure as the ones on the table.)

Surprisingly, peace reigns.

*****

*****

*****

*****

Northern Virginia, including Fairfax County, is part of the Washington metropolis area: the third-worst congested traffic area in the USA, in terms of percentage of congested roadways and time spent in traffic. Of the lane miles in the region, 44 percent are rated "F" or worst for congestion. Northern Virginia residents spend an average of 46 hours a year stuck in traffic. (Fictional Special Agent Arthur Kirkland, dragged hither and thither at the behest of the FBI and with probably over a 100 hours stuck in traffic per annum with all his travelling to crime scenes, Baltimore and Quantico, is an outlier and should not have been counted.)

A little about ama. [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ama_(diving)]

If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell. - Virgil, Aeneid, Book VII.312

NEXT CHAPTER

[lanzhans]

HI! WAIT ARE U ONE OF THE PEOPLE WHO KEEPS PUTTING THE KDRAMAS ON THE DASH. holding a microphone up to you what are ur top recs for kdramas. favorites even

hi hello yes i am & i am the right person to ask this question actually

alchemy of souls: this show is so well named bc it literally is my soul. to date the only media that has made me sob hysterically (multiple times!) all of the characters are so incredible and multifaceted and jung somin and go younjung portray the fl with so much depth it is amazing. lee jaewook is also incredible as the ml and his character is one of the most interesting protags i've ever seen. also the cinematography and magic system is amazing i believe it's partially based off of chinese xianxia dramas? but it is so amazing it is my favorite thing ever go watch it: a+ plot, a+ cast, a+ cinematography

law school: this one also has go younjung in it! (alchemy of souls) and i literally could not put it down bc the plot is so interesting & the characters are all. absolutely incredible to watch. it is so much more than just a murder mystery, and i think it really made me rethink how i viewed lawyers & the legal system in general. also solhwi beloveds forever so ! i think this is rlly fun if u love murder mysteries, law, dark academia or just some really well-developed characters

weightlifting fairy kim bok-joo: this one is a bit older but nam joo hyuk is so beloved here?? absolute friends to lovers excellence i love love love the chemistry between the leads like apparently they were dating? during the show? and u can absolutely tell bc bokjoo and joonhyung are so in love with each other. besotted. i think it's such a fun drama and bokjoo is so everything to me

hometown cha-cha-cha: absolutely pure serotonin at its finest. it is so escapist u can just put it on and forget abt all ur worries. there are like 0 stakes it is just such a beautiful exploration of love and living in a small town vs a city and i adore yoon hyejin she is so special to me

hymn of death: this one is literally 3 eps long & it broke me into pieces? it's a story about two people finding love during the japanese occupation of korea and it hurts so badly to see two people trying to keep their culture afloat while being occupied. also the ending is so painful but it is soooo good like. shin hye sun never ever ever misses she's my fav actress i think

my name: another shorter drama! it is 8 eps and they're all so?? action packed?? song jiwoo is so special near and dear to me. it is literally just about a young woman dealing with the grief of the death of her father and trying to avenge his death and it's one of the most painful things i've ever seen but it's incredible. han sohee put everything she had into that portrayal of her

our beloved summer: title is so correct bc this drama is so beloved to me! i honestly love how they portrayed both leads, guk yeonsoo and choi ung's struggles felt so real and kim dami and choi wooshik really did an incredible job portraying them as just. very real people. it's like. haters to lovers to exes to pining to "friends" to lovers but their love is so real. it's so so so good and it's the first kdrama i ever saw so it is forever special to me

honorable mentions:

moving: ok tbh idk how qualified i am to rec this rn bc i just started (another go younjung drama, r u noticing a pattern) but already i adore the plot and the characters and i'm so excited to see where this goes next!! this one is about a group of people who have superpowers and there's some agency involved but tbh idk much more than that

destined with you: in no way is this a drama w an actually good storyline like we are just here for the vibes but i love kim rowoon and i love jo boah and their chemistry is off the charts and they're so cute in this drama! and honestly i am having so much fun every wednesday and thursday w them . so. this one is about a "cold" lawyer and a civil servant who are reincarnations of their past selves who were alive during the joseon dynasty and whose love story ended in extreme tragedy. the lawyer (jang shinyu) is cursed to have some kind of brain tumor i think? and there's a spell book involved that belongs to the civil servant (lee hongjo). it is very no plot only vibes

see you in my 19th life: this one....fair warning. the ending is. quite. something. but honestly it started out so strong and i think it is still a fun time bc shin hyesun strikes yet again. tbh i only got thru this one bc of her portrayal of ban jieum but honestly this is probably one of her best performances if not her best. this one is abt a girl who remembers all of her past lives trying to find the boy she loved in her past life (moon seoha) but couldn't be with bc she died very young

angel's last mission: love: i think this one def got a tad melodramatic at times but honestly kim dan and lee yeonseo are so in love. i want to be in love like they are in love. this is abt a ballerina who, due to an "accident", became blind and couldn't dance anymore and an angel is sent down to help her find love but ends up falling in love w her instead. another shin hyesun drama and she never ever misses so ! her portrayal of yeonseo is an acting masterclass actually

to be watched:

twenty-five, twenty-one: saw an edit of this one to long live and had to watch it so it is on the tbw. also a nam joo hyuk drama (about a young woman's fencing journey & youth w her friends & first love and also about her daughter's ballet career i think)

moon lovers scarlet heart ryeo: i love love love iu and need to see her projects so! heard this one is pure pain which sounds sooo fun actually (about a girl in the 21st century who gets transported to the goryeo dynasty i believe)

extraordinary you: cannot believe there is a drama that exists with both lee jaewook and kim rowoon. how is that real (about a girl who is a side character in a comic book and decides she doesn't want to be and then there's like a crossover w another comic book or something like that)

[turning-pages-seeking-sages]

📖✨ Monthly Reading Wrap-Up

October 2024 Edition

📗 I Have Some Questions for You by Rebecca Makkai Mystery/Thriller | ★★★★☆ (4/5) A true-crime podcaster returns to her alma mater to revisit an old murder case, stirring up buried memories and unexpected revelations. Review: Makkai delivers a gripping and layered narrative that tackles both suspense and self-reflection.

📕 A World of Curiosities by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★☆ (3.75/5) In the heart of Three Pines, a hidden attic leads to secrets buried in Gamache’s past, as a new generation wrestles with unresolved mysteries. Review: Intricate and compelling, but I felt like the characters made bad decisions purely to advance the plot and elevate the stakes.

📙 The Librarian of Burned Books by Brianna Labuskes Historical Fiction | ★★★★�� (4.5/5) A captivating read that will resonate deeply with fans of historical fiction, particularly those who appreciate stories about the power of literature to overcome adversity, the resilience of women in the face of oppression, and the beauty of love and hope in the darkest of times Review: A beautiful, moving tribute to the power of books that (surprisingly!) centers queer characters.

Click 'keep reading' for the full list and StoryGraph links.

📘 At First Spite by Olivia Dade Romantic Comedy | ★★★☆☆ (3/5) After a broken engagement, Athena moves into the tiny Spite House she bought for her ex-fiancé, only to discover that his infuriating older brother, the man who convinced him to leave her, lives next door. Review: This story does a decent job depicting depression, but unbelievable scenes and cringe banter pulled me out of the story several times.

📗 The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison Fantasy | ★★★★☆ (4/5) Thara Celehar, a Witness for the Dead, uses his gift to bring closure to lost souls while facing dark mysteries in the city of Amalo. Review: A quietly powerful story with heart and compassion at its core, full of political intrigue and mystery.

📕 The Grief Stones by Katherine Addison Fantasy | ★★★★☆ (3.75/5) Thara Celehar, a Witness for the Dead, uses his gift to investigate a noblewoman’s murder, uncovering disturbing secrets within a girls' school and confronting painful truths in the shadows of Amalo. Review: While I enjoyed this book, the pacing was off, and some plot lines were rushed.

📙 A Great Reckoning by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★¾ (4.75/5) Gamache takes on the role of commander at the police academy, uncovering corruption and a map that could solve a decades-old mystery. Review: One of my favorites in the series; a beautifully layered narrative with suspense and emotional depth.

📘 Glass Houses by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★☆ (4/5) When a mysterious figure appears in Three Pines, it sets off a chain of events that forces Gamache to confront his past decisions and their deadly repercussions. Review: A thought-provoking mystery with masterful tension and a gripping storyline.

📗 Kingdom of the Blind by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★☆ (4/5) Chief Inspector Armand Gamache finds himself named as one of the executors of a stranger’s will, leading to an intricate mystery rooted in secrets and lies. Review: Penny's storytelling shines with rich character depth and an intricately woven mystery.

📕 The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin Fantasy/Sci-Fi | ★★★★☆ (3.75/5) In a vividly imagined New York City, five people embodying the boroughs must come together to defend it from an otherworldly threat. Review: I enjoyed the premise, but sometimes the messages felt hamfisted.

[liztparadox]

I agree

And also think if Mordred somehow stayed by Arthur's side, he would help Morgana to find her old self in the future. She blocked everyone out of her heart but Mordred. "I hope you will find the love that used to fulfill your heart." She listens to him, I dont think she really just used him. She wanted him by her side because he was the only safe figure in her past. A love that remained pure for her.

I also mean, Merlin just needs real support and help. I don't think it would be that hard to break the walls of his paranoia. Maybe there are some traumas, but Merlin could actually connect more with, by, and through Mordred. On the last season, Merlin is so distant to everyone, even Arthur, even from himself and his own heart, I think he just needed some magic bond? To accept himself once again.

Sometimes, I think Merlin sees Mordred like his old self too. Being unable to see all the things he actually did since coming to Camelot, as Merlin did things he never thought he would.

Mordred somehow represents bond bridges, hope, and faith(his quotes, listen to his quotes). Also, LOVE and TRUST. That explains the Disir riddle. He is the key.

Key of all hearts. Morgana, Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, Knights, and Kilgharrah true mystery (since the dragon is manipulative)

I believe Mordred is our map of things Merlin lost long the way and why he failed that much.

So, if Merlin just mistreated him less obviously, he would be pinning (belive me) harder. He would talk more, approach more, and he would actually be the one to bring Merlin back to who he really am. Not that afraid, scary man, capable of letting his own friends die, he was supposed to be exactly who he was on season one till the end but Uther was still alive(I hate Uther, omg) and complicated it all, when Uther died Merlin was already changed.

Uther death is indeed the cure of all ill ( I love this episode so much . It's almost Merlin/Arthur/Morgana&Mordred parallel).

And Mordred did it all for love. He came back for love, and he stayed at Arthur's side for love. He sacrificed himself so many times for hope and love, its stupid. He "betrayed" Arthur for it, listening to Kara manipulation blindly, and went to Morgana for revenge.

Merlin lost most of his friends, a lover, his heart was broken by Arthur marriage (Arthur is obviously gay for Merlin, and flirted with him in front of Gwen *his bff* - I still sick by it - like he was playing with him. ), he blames himself for a lot of his own and other's mistakes, hiding himself for so long he almost hates his own magic by the end, and was mistreated (YES HE WAS! THROWING THINGS AT HIM, SHOUTING AT HIM, WORKING HIS ASS OFF WITH MORE THAN JUST ONE TIME JOB, ATTEMPTS OF MURDERS, AND NO FUCKING REWARD!) gosh I hate Merthur, but I undestand even if Merlin needed to stand up, talk his mind and be appreciated for once, and not learn how Arthur keeps his feeling deep inside like a advice.

He just needed someone to show him it's okay, talk without judgment, be listening, undestood, and appreciated. Someone to show what to do or figure out and stand for him in any situation. Mordred was the only one who remembered Merlin's absence or strange mood (like he is sad or anything), looks at him with high respect, would just do just whatever he ask to like he is his own knight. Mordred is what Merlin needed if he were fucus on his own purpose.

Merlin lost himself along the way before season 5. it's pretty clear. He killed his own kind just as Gaius did, and Gaius was Uther's right hand against magic and is not a good example for Merlin. He did it just like Merlin, for the King, not Camelot, not people, not their friends but the king, really. (Why loving Arthur has to mean paranoia?)

And I also think Merlin would fall in love. Obviously, very hard. Look that smile... Merlin is too transparent. Why tf is he looking at Mordred lost in thoughts, delaying an answer, holding his breath? Why Merlin is so fucking sexy, why Mordred is pining so much? WHY DO YOU SEEM TO LOCK ON EACH OTHER'S EYES? Why do you seem to full each others holes so much in a perfect fit?

I have so many reasons to ship this.

I always see people discussing the prophecies in Merlin about Morgana and the one about Mordred.

But now, what if [specifically right now] the prophecy about Mordred does not exist?

Or if it does exist, what if Merlin did not know about it and never found out?

What do you think could have changed?

What would have happened?

And for my Merdred shippers, what if the tension between them was this time not because of the prophecy?

[absolutebl]

Time to rewatch Colour Rush??????

Also, (at risk of asking a controversial question) what do you think the most over and underrated BLs are?

I think Tharntype is probably one of the most overrated (love MewGulf but the story is a bit 👀), and We Best Love is definitely underrated imo. You?

It is ever not time to rewatch Color Rush?

The eternal question for the universe.

Also, (at risk of asking a controversial question) what do you think the most over and underrated BLs are?

Oh noes, very controversial. Okay... here we go, get ready to be mad at me.

I'm going with MDL rating & comments, amount of attention gifs etc on Tumblr, and amount of MVs and attention to the fandom on places like YouTube. 

10 Most Overrated BLs

Ossan's Love original (Japan 2018) - why do people like this, WHY?

The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese (Japan 2020) - oh it’s hot I just... don’t like it 

The Untamed (China 2020) - yeah, sorry not sorry? Not my jam, not my toast, not my fandom, not interested in arguing about it. I respect your kink but its a hard limit for me.  

Love By Chance 2 (Thailand 2020) - nope didn’t like it, have never bothered to rewatch it 

Where Your Eyes Linger (Korea 2020) - look people like it and I get it, but the total fan obsession with this one goes right over my head 

2gether & Still 2gether (Thailand 2020-2021) - possibly the one I find the most overrated on this list, oh I like it, but the amazing fan reaction? I don’t get it and never will. BrightWin are fine, it’s fine, its a serviceable romcom with some questionable content and uneven chemistry, but that’s all. I think maybe because it was a lot of people’s first BL? 

KinnPorsche (Thailand 2022) - I do not want to argue about it, for me it felt all over the place tonally, inconsistent in characterization and filming, and had a poorly executed plot that never lived up to the promise of that first trailer. The chemistry was fine but, guess what? I’ve seen better. 

Enchanté (Thailand 2022) - am I bitter, yes I’m so bitter. I wanted to like this show so much. The chemistry was good, the team was good, the production values high. Chalk another one up to GMMTV squandering talent on a terrible script. 

To My Star 2 (Korea 2022) - TMS original is one of my favorite BLs OF ALL TIME, I hated season 2 and I’m still upset about it. Oh yes I understand why they did what they did, but I am not happy about it, I don’t think the story was the right direction for the characters, and while actors stretching their shops is pleasing to watch, no matter how clever or beautifully filmed or meaningful I didn’t want to watch my boys done dirty like this. This was just another nail in the coffin of NO SECOND SEASONS iN BL. 

Fish Upon the Sky (Thailand 2021) - nope nope nope 

10 Most Underrated BLs

1. He’s Coming To Me (Thailand 2019) - for my money probubly one of GMMTV’s best BLs. Clean concept and flawless execution, good mystery, complex characters and one of the greatest coming out sequences ever put on screen. Boy and ghost boy fall in love, must solve ghost’s murder. Peak pining but also pretty tame, features my favorite sweet but important coming out sequence. The third in my precious triumvirate of unbeatable Thai BLs, that are only nominally BL because the story, acting, and production values are so good. (Together with UWMA & 1k*). 

Find it on GMMTV’s YouTube channel. 

2. Just Friends? (Korea 2009) - just so cute and hot and fun and no one knows it exists. Boyfriends, one of whom is on military leave, trying to decide on coming out and the future. 

Find it on GaGa and also YouTube sometimes. 

3. Seven Days (Japan 2015) - the best BL as a pure unsullied yaoi sourced piece of sweetness, I will eventually convince every one of my followers to watch this if it’s the last thing I do on tumblr. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

You have to haunt YouTube and grey sites like dramacool or this one, but I promise it’s worth it. 

4. Long Time No See (Korea 2017) - high heat, violent, hella gay mafia hitmen falling in love even though they are on opposite sides of a turf war. Honestly WHAT MORE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT? You are not allowed to even mention KinnPorsche to me until you have watched this. I will accept no arguments on this matter.

This is on GaGa (sometimes) and I think you can pay to play on Vimeo too. 

5. HIStory 2: Right or Wrong (Taiwan 2018) - everyone loves Crossing the Line but I also really like the companion piece too. This is a teacher/student power dynamic, tsundere/sunshine pairing, plus cohabitation with themes of self acceptance and family domesticity. It's a slow burn but high heat (and that heat is good). The uke is out gay, the seme is unapologetically bi, and it's the first time Taiwanese BL flexed its marriage equality muscles. Triggers includes some verbal and physical gay bashing (not from the seme) and child abandonment/neglect (yes from the seme). The second half it a lot better than the first. Ending is VERY happy.

The whole HIStory series is on Viki. 

6. Dark Blue Kiss (Thailand 2019) - I adore PeteKao okay? This is probably my favorite GMMTV product. Bite me. This is classic Thai BL with a university setting, great acting and complex characters, one of my favorite friendship groups, friends to enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers, multiple angsty af coming outs, including a long stretch of a secret relationship. Early GMMTV high production values, good chemistry, BL side couple, lots of classic tropes and some great domesticity.

It’s all on YouTube however, you do need a watch guide for PeteKao, and that’s here.

7. My Day the series (Pinoy 2020) - kinda the definition of underrated, it’s a fun campy high heat pretty boys being hot messes and I love it and no one else is with me on this. The set up on this one is enemies (also boss/employee) and they don’t like each other to start. But that gets resolved pretty quickly. And then they are some of the cutest, hottest, and best boyfriends ever. This is an under-appreciated BL, IMHO.

You can find My Day on YouTube. 

8. Wish You (Korea 2020) - one of my favorite Korean BLs and it is quiet and sweet and earnest. Crickets. Set in the music industry featuring a talented singer and the pianist who falls in love with him (and his music), subtle and achingly adorable. High production, low heat, short run, very tame, and Korea, so more of a western style. It’s not the most logical story though. No coming out, exists in the “Korean BL bubble universe” where everything is just fine and dandy with the gays. 

You can find this one on Viki & Netflix, you definitely want to watch the movie version. 

9. Nobleman Ryu's Wedding (Korea 2021) - our first actual gay kisses in a historical BL with crossdressing! OMG why didn’t anyone love this as much as me? 12th Night goes BL in this cross dressing historical, that ended up feeling like a Cinderfella fairy tale, lightly dramatic and utterly charming.

In some parts of the world you can find this on WeTV, otherwise gotta go grey for it. 

10. Hay Rival, I LOVE YOU! (Vietnam 2021) - it’s short, I love it to pieces, basically no one has seen it. Two boys (jock & nerd) learn that they are both dating the same girl. At first they hate each other, but then they decide to get together and take revenge. In the process they fall in love with each other instead. 

Frankly a lot of Vietnamese Bl could go on this list including You Are Ma Boy and My Lascivious Boss.  

VBL can usually be found on YouTube. Hay Rival is here. 

Most Underrated Bromance?

S.C.I. Mystery (Hong Kong 2018) - honestly why does no one talk about this? Why chat about Guardian and Untamed and such and NEVER once does anyone mention S.C.I?

It was the first bromance I ever watched. This was how I learned bromances existed because I spent the whole time being like: wait are they married? Or are they cousins? No, they’re married? WHAT IS GOING ON? Then I looked up the origin. 

(source) 

[lilydalexf]

I have multiple requests for X-Files undercover fics! Here are some very good fics with Mulder and Scully going undercover and posing as a couple. Though I cheated and included general undercover fics too. ("Arcadia" fics aren't included even though being undercover is the episode's premise. Same with "The Pine Bluff Variant" - look here for my PBV fic recs.) Across the Rubicon by Anne Haynes Once you cross the line, where do you go from there? Amish Country, part 1, part 2 by Lolabegood A serial rapist on the loose in Amish Country causes Mulder and Scully to go undercover and test the limits of their relationship. Amor Caritas, parts 1, 2, 3 by Marguerite The death of Mulder's mother sends Scully undercover to unravel a mystery...and determine her own destiny. Controlled Substances by Kel Those nanites have to go. Skinner is willing to risk it all to be free of the microscopic parasites that Krycek uses to control him. Failure to Die by Kel An undercover assignment lands Agent Jerry Luskin and his colleagues in a “cursed” hospital. Can Dr. Scully handle an emergency without calling for the paramedics? Just watch. Five Years and One Night by Shalimar This starts post “Kitsunegari” and is full of spoilers including all of season 5. It deals with the events in “Emily”. (alt text file link) Grand Gestures by Revely Disappearing jocks, soaring temperatures and a sweaty Mulder and Scully. All of this and still safe for the underage! Hallowed by OnlyTheInevitable (@gaycrouton​) In order to get a dangerous, misogynistic cult shut down, Mulder and Scully have to go undercover as a married couple to destroy it from the inside. When they get a little too involved, how will they manage to come out alive? The Honeycruise by @wtfmulder  Mulder and Scully go undercover on a honeymoon cruise to investigate the deaths of two newlywed couples. In the Dark by @frangipanidownunder​ Silly semi casefile fic written for several reasons. For @leiascully’s XFWritingChallenge: Exercise and also for an anon prompt on Tumblr who asked for a story about Scully being given an undercover assignment as another agent’s wife. Little Green Women by Jean Robinson Scully's undercover assignment poses unexpected challenges. The Marfa Murder Mysteries by Katie Phillips Mulder gets tied up working on a case with VCU so Scully is forced to go undercover on her own down in Texas investigating mysterious deaths involving the world famous Marfa Lights. Problems arise and Mulder also goes undercover to make sure his partner is safe. Midori No Me by FridaysAt9 When several couples go missing from a 55+ community in Florida, Mulder and Scully are once again assigned as an undercover married couple tasked with solving the case. Mulder can’t wait to play house as a retiree, but because of the nature of their relationship at its current state, Scully isn’t so sure. Set post Plus One. Miracle and Mystery by Tesla MSR (no summary provided) Never by Allison Kinney No clever summary. Smut biscuit, pure and simple. Secret World by Bonetree Scully goes deep undercover to find the secret behind a mysterious death. But with what she learns, will she ever be able to come in from the cold? (Part 2 of the Goshen Universe) She's Beauty, She's Grace by @sunflowerseedsandscience​ I was asked to write a Miss Congeniality/The X-Files mash-up… so here goes nothing. Sore Luck at the Luxor by Anubis (@rivkat​) MSR. Not enough plot to summarize. Sub Rosa by Parrotfish Mulder and Scully go undercover to rescue a kidnapped child from a white supremacist militia group. Success could mean the salvation of the duo's partnership -- if it doesn't destroy them first. (Part 3 of the Caught in the Act series) Swingers by ScullyLovesQueequeg (@suitablyaggrieved) Mulder & Scully are assigned a case and have to pretend to be a couple to get into an exclusive swingers’ club. At first, Mulder isn’t fazed but when he notices that men are paying attention to Scully, Mulder starts to become jealous. Thank You, Drive Around by nevdull An undignified stake-out ruffles Scully's feathers. This House is Burning by Tesla MSR casefile (no summary provided) Under Covers by Skinfull Mulder and Scully seem to be on the cusp of a change in their relationship when one of them is assigned undercover. We're Married Now by Skinfull Mulder and Scully go undercover as a married couple to infiltrate a cult in Arizona. What Was Taken, What Was Lost by @sunflowerseedsandscience​ Mulder and Scully, still reeling from the events of Christmas, 1997, go undercover as a honeymooning couple at a romantic retreat in upstate New York to investigate a series of suspicious suicides and accidental deaths.

[lordkingsmith]

Yea I…am not doing all the wips lol. Some are more active than others but I’m not gonna do all the active ones. I can do a few tho lol

1) pine bell heathens; thirty years ago some humans either transformed or were born as strange Fae like beasts. One of these has reached myth status with a few humans traveling to worship him. He’s just a doctor, albeit exceptionally skilled

2) A Knight As Sweet As Hollyhock Blooms; Star Wars/disney franchises (mainly tangled) crossover set to the story beats of the green knight. It’s Hector/Luke Skywalker/Mara Jade/Savage. Technically first in a trilogy with a planned spinoff but we gotta get this one done first.

3) Radio Static; a farmer and his niece get caught up in matters of the Fae and the occult with a monster hunter bartender and a strange Brownie leading them in a direct challenge against hell itself. Third in a trilogy but each book in the trilogy is mostly standalone

4) the good nurse; anthropormorphic animals live together in a version of a European city in the mid 1800’s. A plague doctor raven and a plague nurse mouse are the main characters and are love interests. In fact, the book is regarding the mouse specifically, Beatrice Buttonmidge. She is a very good nurse.

5) The opposite of destiny or fate is pure coincidence; another Star Wars/disney crossover. Luke and Hector are pretending to be husbands while dealing with the owl house town among other things. Marvel’s franchises will also show up.

6) Cursed; a power rangers fic, about the psycho rangers and the what if scenario of Daniel O’Halloran going from Trek’s enemy and murder victim to personal grid ghost of character development to psycho silver and ally to Trek’s lover. I’m currently animating the kid I came up with writing chapter two. Third and final chapter will be fun to do. Won’t introduce Dusk but it will set up how they get to being his parents

7) Blow a Kiss (Fire a Gun) You Just Need Someone To Lean On; another power rangers fic. World of the Coinless centered, based on a dream. Drakkon clones a long dead Billy to try and draw out a mysterious new ranger causing trouble. Eugene is trying to protect the young clone Bit and not get killed in the crossfire

8) My Kind is Your Kind; world of the Coinless fic, Drakkon has to deal with his own clone, and his kids. Among other things. I’m writing chapter two, it’s been slow going lol

9) Considerations and Wishes and Misses; more power rangers. Billy and Eugene and Spike are squarely in the robotic apocalypse, for better or worse. Spike is in a relationship with Ziggy, and things are as well as one would hope in a world built out of ruins.

10) Is It All Alright Now? And if it’s not, is it All Alright?; power rangers. Jason/Eugene. I need to finish chapter two lol

11) King of Stars/Lord of Luck; a non/disney crossover fic about Prince Lir from Last Unicorn and Nekron from Fire and Ice. Lir unwittingly pisses off and falls in love with the god of luck, becoming a minor god of stars in the process.

12) Your Words As Wicked As Tossed Stones; sequel to #11, their son falls for a poet who eats and takes on the destinies of whoever the poet is in love with at the time, while their daughter is promised to another country’s war god. She starts a world war in protest, and falls for the god anyway.

13) Golden Taffy Apples Caught In My Teeth; power rangers, Spike/Antonio Garcia. Spike was originally meant to be the gold ranger, I had to write something for the two. The almost and the actual.

14) who we are by the waves of time; DC media story. Third in a trilogy. It’s about Orm Marius, Harley’s brother Barry, and Cisco. It is very very much an au lol

15) salt spoons; It's a medieval fantasy story about the temptation of power. It kicks off in a scorched forest with news of an ascension to the throne. Solidago, who’s in the middle of fighting off a few dozen brigands finds out about the kingdom he’s running from has made a very bad mistake wirh who they put on the throne. He kills the band of brigands off and drags the sole survivor Brill along to help fix this mistake. There’s a prophesy involved and unfortunately Brill proved he fits the bill.

Brill would rather not be the tool for Solidago revenge, but when it comes to underwater cavern cities and magic countries resting at the bottom of subterranean lakes well…he’s not really been given much of a choice. Rivals to lovers between Solidago and Brill.

16) lost girls and labyrinths; a girl and her friends have graduated high school, and take the summer to have fun. Wendy accidentally finds a strange maze city in a well populated by trolls and their leader. No romance, just a lot of dark fantasy and mystery with urban fantasy tossed in

17) Errant Hall; gay beauty and the beast, of a sort. The beast found his beauty, to be sure, but he didn’t learn his lesson, and his curse was transferred to his children with the caveat he had to improve or the next child would be even more beastly. The beauty finally left with their sister-who he DID improve for- but the four brothers were left in their home Errant Hall. Story is mainly about the youngest and his love interest Wayland Spark. The youngest is a bunch of different birds.

18) no story for the history books; young witch turning god tells the devil the story of how he used his summer vacation to find his kidnapped half siblings, a poly romance with the guy who did it and a sentient street. Oh and cursing the entire us government in one go. That too.

19) The Dream Train; a 12 year old is made conductor of the magic train that brings dreams and nightmares to everyone in the world

20) l0VrB0i; a hacker gets accidentally contacted by a newly single father. After assuming said father is a porn bot, he gets propositioned. Assumes this is a trick until he ends up in england with the guy, his kid, and an entire summer of a fling and playing family ahead of him. Oops.

This is definitely an open tag lol. Go nuts!

WIP Ask Game

Tagged by @eriquin, thanks!

-> post all of the wip projects you have ( 😬 )

-> let people send asks with a title, and either share a snippet or share something about the story

-> tag as many people as there are wip projects

Honestly, it's slightly better now than before. Gonna leave out the pile of files that are basically 1-2 lines of idea and just include the stuff in my 'active' WIP folder, with the (mostly accurate) file names:

0 - Tales of the Outer Planes

A Brother is Born for Adversity

MFAU 1 - Emergence

MFAU 2 - Ascendant

MFAU 3 - Oblation

MFAU 4 - Fragments

pick up every stitch

Pinocchio K

Til I Lose My Breath

Yeah, that's about the number I figured. Let's get to tagging:

@serpentinegraphite @thefreakandthehair @hairstevington @augment-techs @skyland2703

@hereforanepilogue @gothichimbo @poemsingreenink @anuwubis

[theboarsbride]

What can you expect to find in The Monster and the Butterfly?🌹🦋

Thank you so much for the tag @euphoniouspandemonium!!!! 💛

The rules are that you create a simple bullet point list of different things that can be found in your current WIP!

Haunted houses filled with portraits that’s eyes follow you, gargoyles standing guard at every door, and shadows that seem all too alive.

A dead garden that’s haunted by thick mist, an army of statues, and ravens.

A romance that starts off as unrequited love... but then forms into genuine love as characters go through development.

Gothic imagery.

Callbacks to Gothic literature, classic ghost stories, and classic horror films.

Imagery and themes inspired by the work of Guillermo del Toro’s films.

Symbolism involving flowers, butterflies, colors, and birds.

1890s London, England setting, and the more gritty aspects of living in the London’s East End at the time.

Descriptions of fashion from the 1890s!!!!

GHOSTS!!!!!! A spooky one that isn’t pleasing to look at, moans into the wee hours of the night, and brings with her cryptid visions of the past.

The distant, whispering sounds of a baby crying that signals the ghost’s appearance.

A protagonist that’s just angry and bitter with everyone (and I don’t blame her!).

Sophie wandering dilapidated, decrepit halls at night, holding a candlestick to light her way while investigating a suspicious noise.

A love interest that starts off his development as a weeping man child, but he loves romantic writing and literature... and we spend at least half of (if not more) the narrative not seeing him, as he keeps himself hidden from the protagonist. 👁👁

Pining... lots of it!

BUTTERFLIES - both as symbolism and as spooky animal companions.

Sophie wholly believing she is unlovable because of WHO she is....only to realize she is loveable.🥺

Edgar wholly believing he is unlovable because of WHAT he is/what he looks like... only to realize he is loveable. 🥺

GARDENING, and Sophie using it as therapy.™

A spooky, sussy coachman/domestic servant. 

Murder™ and Mystery™.

A love interest that’s a little too in tune with his emotions (but is ultimately a sweetheart), and a protagonist that tries to repress her emotions into nothing but pure anger and spite.

Gothic fairytale imagery.

A Gothic romance influenced by stories like the myth of Eros & Psyche, and Beauty and the Beast.

I tag: @onthetipofmyquill @rosesnwater @roselinbooks @thiswaycomessomethingwicked @thedivinemischievousspark and anyone else that wishes to do this!!!💛

[taechaos]

A Night of Discovery

pairing: hybrid!Taehyung x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere au, smut

synopsis: For a learning trip, a seemingly innocent fox has taught you to never trust a predator in one day.

warnings: noncon, mention of murder, sadism

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ok so i may have made a moodboard to make up for how bad this is, SUE ME 😭 the request (spoiler warning)

The road is bumpy as the bus navigates through the looming forest, endless pine trees passing by your eyes in a blur. Chatters swirl in the fresh cold air, windows slightly cracked open as you try to sleep for the nth time with your head leaning against the smudged glass. You jolt awake each time, and it’s been two hours since your first attempt because of the reckless driver in the front. You’re clutching your backpack in your lap as you fantasize about the summer, your upcoming graduation.

Being in your final year of high school, the stress has been eating at you, but your biology teacher had the sheer niceness to give her students a break by taking you on a field trip to a marine zoo. It’s related to your syllabus, studying about marine ecology and all, and you were given the freedom to choose an aquatic animal of your choice to make a project on. You aren’t the least bit excited, because the zoo is so huge that your parents had to pay for the night you have to spend in a motel. Walking for hours and searching for one interesting fish is not at all thrilling.

Your body lurches forward when the driver abruptly hits the brakes. You take out your earphones as everyone stands up. The bus doors open with a hiss from the rush of air as students step outside one by one. You are sluggish when you hop on the cement, and the zoo is huge in front of you. The glass panels complement the surrounding greens, and you can catch the crashes of the waves from the shore behind. You can’t see it, and the environment is rather lonely except for the building close by: the motel next to the zoo.

Ms. Kang is directing your classmates to the motel first, and you’re about to follow before you stumble on your shoelaces. You crouch down to tie them, and when your teacher looks back, you say, “I’ll be there in a second!” When they’re inside, you decide to stretch your limbs after sitting in a stiff chair for so long. You walk to the woods by the parking lot, curious about the sights under the grey clouds. The weather is rather gloomy, and it doesn’t exactly help you feel better until you step on the grass ahead of the road. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and start touching the tree trunks out of boredom. It isn't entertaining, but it's relaxing.

A distant growl snaps you out of your sightseeing and you search around with your eyes for the source. The sound is very peculiar, and it has you feeling slightly nervous but undoubtedly curious.

You aim to take a step forward until your name is hollered, and you yell, “I’m here!” You hear hasty footsteps until Jimin appears next to you.

“Ms. Kang is asking for you. It’s your turn to check in,” he informs and you’re about to reply until you hear another growl. It’s louder compared to the previous one, and the both of you look into the forest in fright. It’s drawn out, but it gradually grows quiet. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” you furrow your brows a little anxiously and eventually enter the building with Jimin.

After everyone settled into their rooms, ate in the café provided by the zoo, the real trip began. You have to admit, the aquarium is gorgeous. The blue light reflecting from the water is easy on the eyes, and you’re fawning over all the swimming fish in admiration. There is a guide with you, and you listen to any information that is related to your favorite animals so far. You note down the names as a requirement from the teacher, and research some on your phone throughout your exploration. It’s actually interesting in the beginning, but you do get somewhat bored when a few hours pass. It’s 7PM when the tour ends for the day, and the rest of your time is leisure. 

You’re allowed back in your rooms for the evening, and you rest on the comfortable bed to gain back some of your energy. You’re more interested in the forest just outside, and you take out a box of fruits from your bag before leaving the motel. It’s dark when you munch on a sliced green apple while eyeing the forest. The lights from the motel sign help with your vision and you’re just standing on the empty lot while twirling around absentmindedly. It’s not like you’re close enough with anyone to hang out with them at this time, but it allows you to appreciate the breeze more. You’re wearing a cardigan to keep you warm, and you’re enjoying your time until you hear a whimper. 

You stop in your tracks before inching closer to the sound. It’s pained, or at least you think it is, and you take out your phone to shine a flashlight at the eerie forest. More whimpers resound in your ears, and you timidly trudge into the darkness. You yelp when you feel something soft lightly graze your calves, and jump away before seeing it: it’s the tail of a red fox. You gasp in slight fear because you don’t know if you trespassed or are in danger. The fox stares at you, and you stare back until it quietly whines again. “Awww,” you unintentionally coo. You’re scared when it wraps its fluffy tail around you, but you’re not so intimidated when it starts snuggling into your legs. You crouch to level with it and hesitantly bring your fingers to its head. Its fur is so soft that you wonder if it has been tamed.

“You’re so cute,” you gush in a whisper when it leans into your hand. You retract your hand and take out a blueberry from your container and feed it to the fox. Your heart warms just by watching it chew, and you give it some more. This encounter might be the best part about this trip, because the animal is just so adorable. You want to cry from how overwhelmingly precious and pure it seems with its adoring gaze. You’re grinning brightly as you eat with it, sharing your only snack for this whole expedition. 

You entertain yourself with it for a little while before deciding to go back. You ignore its protests guiltily and bid farewell, “I’ll see you again, cutie.” It’s already been an hour and your legs ache from bending for so long. You know you shouldn’t be out too late, and as you retrace your steps back to the motel, you hear it run off deep into the woods. 

The night is spent tossing and turning in bed because you wanted to sleep early in order to function at 8AM the next morning, but you can’t force it. Surfing through the media or keeping your eyes closed for 15 minutes straight didn’t help in the slightest, and somehow your energy has been increasing instead. The window adjacent to the mattress glares at you with its beauty of the crowd of unsaturated trees. You didn’t bother pulling the curtains because it’s a pleasant view, and the stars that you rarely see in the city shine brightly in the countryside. You think back to your interaction with the fox, and a smile creeps up on your tired face. You want to see it again.

Putting your shirt back on, you’re adjusting your cardigan when you crack open the door of your room. No one’s roaming in the halls, as expected since it’s midnight, but you try to be mindful of your temporary neighbours as you sneakily exit the building. You turn to your left instantly to scurry towards the mysterious forest. You don’t know if the fox is still around, but you whistle lowly anyway. Twigs snap beyond your vision, and you warily wait for something to happen. 

An extremely loud growl rips a tiny scream out of you and you immediately flinch backwards. You’re frozen in your spot, almost paralyzed as the growls continue. It’s confusing because the noise is more like an aggressive hiss, and it’s unlike anything you’ve heard before. It suddenly switches to a whimper, a plea. You don’t know if you have to break a fight between two animals, but it doesn’t matter when your curiosity takes over and makes you confidently (albeit feigned) stride into the jungle. 

As if your actions are being encouraged, the whimpers grow more desperate and you take slow steps while watching out for any predators waiting to attack. You’re trembling in fear, but then your fox also might need help… 

The motion is way too quick for you to process and you let out a blood curdling scream when you’re tackled to the ground. You don’t stop screaming even when your mouth is covered, muffling your cry for help. 

“Calm down,” a honeyed rich voice tells you, soothing with its calm tone, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You quiet down and peek at the assailant through heavy lids. A confused hum catches in your throat upon seeing batlike ears that poke through dark hair. They easily blend in together, and you scrutinize his features and notice a swishing bushy tail behind the man on top of you. Terror dawns in your eyes, though the man looks fairly tranquilent by the ordeal.

“You fed me earlier,” he recounts and slowly removes his hand from your face. You’re gawking up at him as he clarifies, “Fox hybrid.” You squeak when his tongue darts out to lick your cheek and chuckles at your expression.

“What a-are you doing?” you snivel shakily. 

He gently tucks a stray strand behind your ear before answering nonchalantly, “Scenting my precious doll. You’re so pretty, and kind… and naive.” 

Your breaths quicken when he leans into you, but he conveniently misses your lips to bury his face into your neck. The fur on his pointy ear tickles your jawline, and you’re startled when he starts to sniff you. You feel him lick your sensitive skin and clench your fists with a mewl. You’re utterly terrified by the discovery of a new species, who also seems to be very strong and stealthy. He’s handsome, gifted with a heart shaped face and a set of charming black eyes with full lips, but it’s not important when he’s crushing you with his weight to keep you in place. His mouth and nose are all over you as they explore your taste and smell, and his satisfaction is evident with his sighs of bliss.

“I couldn’t get enough of you earlier,” he reveals with a subtle moan, “I've never had the experience of smelling something so delicious. It's fortunate that you're so easy to fool.” The only thing that you do know about foxes is how cunning they are, but you didn’t think one would land you in this situation. You’re heaving to breathe with a struggle, but he pays no mind to it. “I can’t wait to claim you.”

Despite rendering you immobile, he sounds more desperate and needy than you do; as if he’s the weaker one, like the roles are switched. You might be able to use that to your advantage… “I would love that,” you choke out, though you have no idea what he means by his words, “but I can’t move. I-I want to kiss you.” You want to smack your forehead for coming up with such a terrible lie; you don't even know if his intention is to kiss you.

“Yeah?” he drawls seductively and withdraws his knees from your thighs, most likely leaving a bruise from how hard he dug them in. He holds himself up by his palms that previously clung onto your shoulders and limits your peripheral vision. Your eyes trail to his defined collarbone for a short moment, the moonlight casting a shadow over his fine features. “Kiss me then.”

You inhale sharply before raising your leg to kick him, but his reflexes are faster than yours as he prevents it with one knee. He tuts, “I’m offended; I thought you found me cute.” A knowing smile graces his pink lips, and it doesn’t falter even when you open your mouth to scream again. His calloused hand immediately silences you before you can make any noise, and his other hand reaches down to your lower region. “I even wore a pretty outfit for you today. Such an ungrateful doll...” 

He tugs on your pajama shorts, dragging them down to your knees along with your underwear. You shake your hand and beg unintelligibly, “Please don’t.” You clench your thighs together, but he forces them open and leans back to take your bottoms off completely. The weather feels like it’s dropped to negative degrees as you shiver and he gently hushes you when you begin to sob. 

“Oh doll, there’s no reason to cry yet,” he sighs in fake empathy, “I just really, really want to fuck you.” He heaves his shirt over his head, and that’s when you get a glimpse of his so-called “pretty outfit”. The black garment is familiar because it's the merchandise of an indie band with its flamboyant logo; you know you’ve seen someone else wear it today. He has to use both hands to take it off completely, and once it’s off, your wails echo in the deserted land as he ties it around your mouth. It’s Jimin’s outfit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me. I love having your attention.” His voice is a mere breath, filled with anticipation to touch you.

He slides down to your knees as he continues to undress himself. He’s throbbing under the uncomfortable fabric of the tight jeans, and instead of attacking him with your now free hands, you cover your face stained with tears as you cry. You feel like you’re having a heart attack as your gut churns in defeat; there’s no point in fighting a man who might’ve killed your classmate, a fox no less.

The moment his pants are down his thighs, his stiff length grazes his stomach before he palms it and rubs himself up and down your folds. Your heat is damp with your natural discharge, but it’s so warm and he feels so aroused as a moan slips past his luscious lips. “You must think I’m so rude,” he whispers and hovers over your face, “I haven’t even introduced myself and yet I’m already marking you.”

He whines cutely at a particular tingle before saying, “My name’s Taehyung. I’d love to hear you moan it, but you’re just so naughty.” His emphasis is airy, and you’re terrified by the contrast of his soft tone and rough actions. He’s calculated, but also very reckless; almost amateur as he begins to position himself by your entrance.

Your words are gibberish as you repeat: “No, no, please no!” He clicks his tongue in response and locks eyes with you just before he shoves his cock inside, no adjustment whatsoever as his pitch grows higher in wonderment. He’s down to the hilt, and the fabric in your mouth isn’t enough to drown out your scream of pain. The stretch is excruciating. His eyes screw back as he loses himself in you, and it’s as if he’s lost all control when he starts slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. 

As opposed to your protests, he starts chanting, “Yes, yes, fuck yes, my perfect little doll.” He’s never had intercourse with a human before, but it’s not up for comparison when he’s feeling so heavenly because of your tightness. You’re pulsating around him, walls clenching in discomfort because you’re in so much agony. You push his shoulders, but it’s futile as he doesn’t budge in the slightest; he almost appears possessed, but his loud moans disprove the theory. 

He can’t form coherent words, and neither can you. If you weren’t in such a shock, you’d be encouraging him to be louder in case anyone is nearby to help you. You thrash under him, but your movements are limited because of his firm build. You beg and beg, but he is animalistic with his chase for his high. The sound of slapping skin have no pauses in between because of his pace, and dare he admit that the predator in him enjoys your attempts at getting away. It makes it so much more fun for him, but he’s unable to savour it from how your pussy sucks him in so deliciously. "You feel so fucking good, I'm going crazy."

Once he’s gained some of his sensibility back, he latches onto your neck to lick and bite you. You pull at his hair to yank him away, his canine teeth sinking into your flesh for a second before he moves onto another spot. His torture is endless, and his growls scare you enough to remove your hand and shake like a leaf under him. He wants to taste all of you, and you can't serve as an obstacle.

“Pet my ears,” he grunts, “touch me, touch me, dolly.” 

The initial pain is starting to subside, and your thoughts are coming together although they’re hazed. You’re still aching, but you know he just dropped you a hint; the sooner he’s satisfied, the earlier this nightmare ends. Your fingertips stroke the back of his twitching ear. His fur is so velvety, and petting him is the least bad part about this experience. You must be doing something right, because he’s getting so noisy that there’s no way someone would miss you now. You suck your teeth with a hiss as he sets an impossibly rapid rate, rearranging your guts with every snap of his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries breathlessly. His release washes over him as spurts of cum paint your throbbing walls in white, and you’re relieved that this is the end. 

His intakes of air are hot on your skin as his breath fans the crook of your neck. Your stomach drops the moment he murmurs his next words, “I want to do it again.”

“Hey!” a gruff voice interrupts his huffs, and your whole world lights up when you see a man in a uniform with a flashlight over your heaving nude bodies. Taehyung is surprised that he didn’t catch the man’s footsteps when he walked over. “This is indecent exposure, you know–” the security officer goes quiet in shock when he notices the perk of Taehyung’s ears, and then the stiff, unmoving tail behind. “What the fuck?”

Taehyung rolls off of you before disappearing from your sight in a single second. He is stealthy and quick, and his footsteps are light when he leaves; presumably shifting as he goes. The guard attempts to chase after him before stopping in front of you. His eyes trail down your figure before he looks away in disgust. “Goddammit, kid, put your clothes back on.” 

“Thank you so much,” you choke on your tears of joy as you ignore the ache in your thighs, the swelling in your heart and your suffocating turmoil. You stand up on wobbly knees and slowly dress yourself. The officer has his back facing you while you change, and you’re grateful he doesn’t witness how fragile you are. 

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks after a moment of prolonged silence.

“H-He was raping me,” you speak in a hushed tone, “and I think h-he killed my classmate.”

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll go notify the police. Are you staying in the motel?”

When you return back to your room with the company of your savior, you’re hurting everywhere and sleep comes to you easily from all the crying you’ve done. You wake up from a knock on your door, and it’s early in the morning as your teacher says, “Pack up dear, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

They found the clothes, you note when you limp outside with your bag dragging you down. There are dried tear stains on your cheeks when you step on the open bus, and you see a bunch of cops surrounding the forest through the window. Jimin isn’t inside, and you shake your head with pursed lips as sobs bubble up in your throat. This feels nothing short of a nightmare. 

The class is informed of Jimin’s disappearance after taking off, and you lean your head against the window as the driver recklessly drives. Your vision is blurred with tears as you watch the forest, but it doesn’t distort it enough for you to miss the flash of a blood red tail skip between the trees, following the path of your transport.

After all, foxes are known for being fast. There’s no way this one wouldn’t be able to track you down sooner or later, your scent bringing you back to him.

[rueluxprince]

Why Does Jin Guangyao Have So Many Goddamn Ships

This dude. I don’t know what is with him. He can be shipped with so many goddamn people, and you can find something in canon (show/novel/audio drama) to justify it. You like a specific trope? He’ll have a ship that gives it to you. (Lets extrapolate some from canon)

Qin Su/Jin Guangyao: Naive yet headstrong heiress trying to fight on the battlefield and contribute to the greater good. Bit off more than she could chew and was rescued by a gentle and quietly self-assured young man. Romance and comedy ensues as she vows to make him her husband! Flowers! Hijinks! Enlisting quirky handmaidens for advice! Jin Guangshan doesn’t exist in this one!

Lan Xichen/Jin Guangyao: hero saves the beauty, gay edition. Young bookkeeper wants to be worthy of noble young master’s esteem, works his ass off, puts himself in years of danger, finally climbs to the top and now must deal with the “is he or is he not” of romance in politics! Is he or is he not? He’s always at your house and gives you a free pass to his house and draws you exclusive paintings and only attends conferences hosted by you and trusts you completely! But he never says anything! Cue the yearning! The soft touches! Reminders of etiquette! Swooning into strong arms!

Jiang Cheng/Jin Guangyao: reluctant and accidental co-parents reluctantly and accidentally fall in love in the long years of raising a precocious nephew into adulthood. The kid turned out surprisingly okay, with a commendably hard moral backbone. One realizes it’s nice to have a perpetually angry grape ready to blow up in your defense. The other realizes someone closest to him is already fulfilling all his marriage requirements and he didn’t even know it! Domestic bliss! Cute kids! Internal struggles of sexuality! The italicized oh!

Nie Mingjue/Jin Guangyao: Noble and righteous leader recognizing and promoting downtrodden but talented beginner –> no good opinion forthcoming but still wants to care his own way older brother x turning down a dark path but still wants to go back the way things were younger brother –> So much resentment fierce corpse x unable to forget the guilt murderer –> they are buried together. Deteriorating relationship! Shakespearean tragedy! Ultimate darkness! Death! Eternity with each other!

(Honorable mention: 3zun - a wholesome ouroboros loop of death, mystery and found family)

Nie Huaisang/Jin Guangyao: you ever have that one childhood friend that takes care of you and indulges in your oddities and protects you with murderous looks and a scarred back even though he’s frailer than you are; and then that childhood friend murders your older brother but leaves you alive and still takes cares of you and spoils you and would drop everything to help you with a made up problem? And so you’re now left seething in rage because how dare he ruin you and love you all without pause?! Cue the revenge plots! Lies! Deceit! Best actor winners going toe to toe on the world’s biggest stage! Inner conflict! Angst! More conflicted plotting!

Mo Xuanyu->Jin Guangyao: You’re weak and a mess and constantly bullied and the only one in this huge and scary house that ever showed you kindness is your older half brother. He becomes a god in your eyes, all golden and brilliant and surrounded by equally golden and beautiful people you can never touch. But you still try despite everything because he’s the sun and he wanted you to thrive, and you’re just a little moth ramming head first into the flames. And when you’re scorched to the bone and everyone still keeps on trying to stomp you into ash and you finally decide to take revenge, you still can’t bring yourself to blame that splendid sun who were never yours in the first place. Resentments! Unrequited love! More angst! Inner courtyard intrigues! More tragedy! Poetic inner monologues!

Su She->Jin Guangyao: generous and focused ruler x dedicated and competent supporter. He gives you all the respect you need and you know in your soul you will die for him and you don’t care one whit about it. You protect his heart but you always stood one step behind. The position beside him is taken, often by a soft figure in golden silk, or an eminent figure in blue satin. Jealousy! Loud expressions of loyalty! Ego management! Pining and simping!

Xue Yang/Jin Guangyao - friends who murder together stays together. One causes wanton destruction and the other picks up after them. Not because he particularly cares that people are getting hurt but the cost analysis tells him it’s not worth the clean up. You pay for my shopping, I rip out the tongues of anyone that insults your mother. Lighthearted talks of murder! Scheming with friends! Lots of cursing! Dubious experiments! Lots of magical cursing! Friends with benefits!

Wen Ruohan/Meng Yao: local megalomanic tyrant sees this random ass kid all bloodied up and gleaming with spite and went “I would like to raise that one. I’ll give it a sword and I’ll teach him stuff and I won’t say I appreciate him but I will definitely save him from imminent danger.” And that kid acknowledges said tyrant as his teacher and tortures for him pretends to love him, all the while stealing his secrets and preparing to stab him in the back to win the war. Struggle! Trauma! Living in hardship! Double agent reminding themselves not to be conflicted! Psychological torture!

Wen Chao + Wen Xu: uhhhhhh, the canoodling with stepmom trope? Do we even go that far on tumblr? It’s a possibility I’ve considered for about two seconds and now I wish I could wash my brain out.

Jin Zixun~~Jin Guangyao: the “I know I’m slapping the me two years ago in the face with what I’m doing right now but it’s love so I don’t care” trope? All the Jins do this. The year before you were all “why are you always here you don’t belong here you bastard son” and now you’re all “wheres A-Yao he promised he would ambush this public menace with me owo?!??!!??” What a weakass motherfucker with weakass principles.

Honorable mentions:

Wei Wuxian + Jin Guangyao: best in law dynamics, potentially. Terrorizing the Cloud Recesses, eating lots of spicy food, hiding secrets in perfectly groomed hair, causing aneurysms in Lan Qiren, violating all the OH&S regulations Etc.

Lan Wangji + Jin Guangyao: best in law dynamics, actually. It’s a whole battle. Jin “I am physically incapable of seeing someone and not wanting to take care of it” Guang “yes I will be calling you Wangji and trying to give you stuff and show audible concern for your love life” Yao vs. Lan “I do not wish to know you I do not care for your seating arrangements do not ever invite me to your banquets again” Wang “just because you’re maybe dating my precious older brother does not mean I will not refute you to your face about my boyfriend at your banquet in front of said brother” Ji.

(And yes the last two are purely familial/platonic. And also everyone else? You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift is the most fitting theme song for half of them)

~more MDZS metas under #my thing# tag~