#still have to cut that out and attach it.. the back will be a mess anyways bc the wings will cover it lmao
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Investigating feather boas for moth cosplay and seeing one that has bad reviews for shedding feathers and wondering. I need hair setting spray for the wig, do you think. hair spray on feather boa..
#not having a lot of color options here either.. wondering if there's something i could use bc i have spray paint#for the boots I'm gonna get for him 🤔 i need to go to. party city for cosplay material ksjfkf#i have at MAX 2 and half weeks as of today my god i need to start BOOKING it 👁👁#mapping out the wings NOW i can get the forewings knocked out pretty easily#the hindwings are another layer of hell.. the wings are easy enough.. it's the tails and hearts that do it#will have to finish the wings themselves to map out how much I'll need for the hindwings..#the fabric store loves me 😔 fucked up the coat a little and added a huge dart to compensate#still have to cut that out and attach it.. the back will be a mess anyways bc the wings will cover it lmao#i need something to hold them up.. i keep saying a harness but there's only a handful of places i can think of#that could carry something like that lmao#thinking thinking thinking!!!#shai speaks
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DC X DP - Mirrors
Did Danny want to live in Gotham? No, of course not. Did he have a choice? Nope. When does he ever?
Now, he may be technically homeless, but he's also technically dead, so human laws technically don't apply to him. So, naturally, he pics out an empty mansion so big even if the owners were to come home, the chances they'd run into each other would be really low, and settles in.
This 'mansion' happens to be Drake Manor. Look, Danny lived in nowhere Illinois and kinda had his hands full dealing with ghosts, a double life, bullies, and being actively hunted. He doesn’t know much about celebrities. If you tell him the name of someone super famous, it might sound vaguely familiar, but that's about it. What he knew was superheroes and vigilantes (some of them, okay, give him a break). That's about it.
So the name Drake in connection with Gotham didn't ring any alarm bells. He did some surface level research: the Drakes are dead, survived by their only child, Timothy Drake-Wayne, who now owns their house but was adopted by some other super rich guy called Bruce Wayne and doesn't live in it, leaving it empty for the foreseeable future.
It was the perfect place!
Danny didn't explore much, partly because he didn't care to and partly because he was too tired to from healing. He cleaned up after himself, used only his bedroom (chosen for being tucked way back and out of the way), the attached bathroom, and the theatre occasionally as a treat. He lived off of the provisions packed for him, ectoplasm and water from the sink.
Cut to, few weeks in.
Danny's got a new routine, he's taken his stitches out, and is still super fucked up, but a lot better than when he arrived. He hasn't been outside since he arrived, but ghosts don't need Vitamin D anyway. Is he slightly depressed? Maybe. But he's also dead, so, bigger priorities.
Tim is looking through his stuff for something or other, and it occurs to him he probably left it next door. He hasn't been to Drake Manor in months, but he sort of really needs this thing, so he sucks it up and borrows a car because like hell is he walking the several miles from this front door to that one.
He goes to his old bedroom, opens the door, and comes face-to-face with himself.
And Danny doesn't know what he's supposed to do in this situation.
Listen, Danny doesn't always make the best decision in the moment. It's a very normal flaw to have! So he tells who can only be Timothy Drake-Wayne himself when asked, that his name is Timothy Drake, and this is his house, and, actually, who are you and how did you get in?
This causes Tim to assume Danny is himself from another dimension who he accidentally dragged to his dimension by messing with the Time Stream to get Bruce back. Danny continues to accidently fuel this misunderstanding without meaning to.
(This is not helped by the fact that a DNA test doesn't disprove this. Danny's DNA is corrupted, but what Tim does get is identical to himself. This is how Danny finds out he was adopted, and how Tim, much later when misunderstandings are cleared, meets the identical twin brother he never knew he had.)
#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt#tim and danny are twins#neither of them know it#tim thinks danny is himself from a parallel universe#or something along those lines#danny is an idiot#tim is an idiot#but like smart idiots#danny has no idea how the terrible bluff ended up working out but he's glad the cops haven't been called#danny is playing along#tim is a great detective#but clockwork is also a meddling dick#and danny has ridiculous luck#it's either really good or really bad#usually really bad#misunderstandings#danny phantom#danny fenton#dpxdc#tim failing at keeping danny secret from his brothers#bruce being emotionally constipated#probably#i mean that man is not mentally okay
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dildo warming with abby <3
synopsis: abby leaves your favorite dildo in all day, just to come home and fuck you later
cw: dom! abby , afab! reader , toy usage (duh) , pet names , abby refers to readers genitals as 'she' , cursing , extremely nsfw
inspired by this!!!
masterlist
daily click
you were woken up in the most pleasant way possible. you, being a light sleeper, felt abby tugging down your panties in the morning. she usually woke up early to get ready for work, and she normally didn't have time to fuck you properly when she had to get ready for her job.
"abby, what are you–"
"shh... go back to sleep, baby." she says, leaving you naked from the waist down. it's dark in your shared bedroom, but you can see her squeeze a bottle of lube over your favorite dildo, coating it nicely. she bends down over your core and runs the tip through your folds.
you whine in response, "abby, wha-" youre cut off when you feel the silicon cock slide into your cunt, your body twitching, "jesus– abs!"
"shh... baby, it's alright. don't take it out." she croons as she helps you pull up your clothes again, the dildo still enveloped by your warm cunt, "i promise i'll fuck you properly when i get home, m'kay?"
you still stare at her, confused but into it nonetheless. she kisses you sweetly before walking out the door to go to work.
︵✧₊︵︵ꕤ₊˚︵
by the time abby did get home from work, your cunt was a beyond a mess. you were gaping and wet just for her, and so goddamn sensitive from the hours you spent resisting the urge to bounce on it or ride it. but you knew that abby would be able to tell, so you were a good girl and left it alone.
you were on top of her as soon as she walked through the door, nearly knocking her over from the sheer desperation you had. the extreme need for her to fuck you.
"whoa there, baby." she laughs when she catches you in her big, bulky arms, "so desperate already, hm? were you a good girl?"
you nod rapidly, the response so quick it was borderline pathetic, "y-yes, abby. need you fuck me. please."
she smiles, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and putting her hand down the front. she feels the absolute mess she left you in your panties and she groans at the feeling, "shit, baby. wont even need to use my fingers first, hm? she's already ready for me."
'she' as in your cunt.
it made your stomach do flips the way she was talking about you.
"c'mon then, baby." she says, picking you up swiftly and carrying you to your shared bedroom, all the while pressing kisses to your neck and face.
the way she tosses you on the bed is almost barbaric, even more so when she strips you naked. she looks down between your legs, which you already had ever so graciously opened wide for her. she whistles lowly, smirking up at you, "should've done this a looong time ago, huh?"
"abby, stop teasing. i've been waiting all day for you to–" you're cut off abruptly when she takes the dildo out of your cunt. you let out a loud whine at the empty feeling.
she laughs, "i can see her twitching." she chokes out before cupping you. the simple touch makes you moan, and you try to rock your hips to get the friction you want, but she grabs your hips to stop you, "nuh-uh. let me get the strap first, then i'll make you feel good."
she swiftly walks over to the closet, and it's not long before she has the harness attached to her hips, the already shiny dildo from earlier attached to it.
she climbs on the bed again, the springs creaking under her weight. she lines up the toy with your entrance, but hesitates, "are you ready?"
you nod helplessly. if you waited another minute you swore your head would explode.
she bottoms out in one go, slipping into you faster than she wanted. but she laughs all the same, "jesus, baby, you really did need this, huh?"
you nod, tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes, "need more, abs. please."
she starts to move her hips, grinding and humping against your hips. she kisses your cheek sweetly over and over again, her hips snapping and slamming on you. the only sounds that filled the room were the combination of your wet juices and skin slapping on skin.
she pants recklessly, bringing her hand down to rub on your clit in hopes of relieving some of the pressure. it helps, and it doesn't. because it soothes the intense ache in your core, but it also makes you nearly scream at the top of your lungs.
you're coming within seconds, squirting a hot mess all over the surface of the bed, and abby. she chuckles, peppering soft little pecks all over your neck and face, "i love you." she croons softly.
"love you too." you mumble before dozing off completely.
#lynnielovestlou#lesbian#the last of us#queer#fanfiction#fanfic#abby anderson#lesbian smut#abby anderson smut
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A F***ing Trial
Agatha x Rio x Reader
Warnings: sex pollen-like story and SO. MUCH. SMUT.
Reblog this if you like it 🖤
Agatha and Rio were already awake once you rose from your exhausted slumber.
After barely surviving the last trial that cut your group down to three, you had conked out by the fire. Your entire body was sore and your emotions in a frenzy. The night’s sleep helped your body and mind. You were still sad about your other coven members, but you also didn’t know them before meeting them three days prior.
Agatha, though. You had met her years ago in Westfield. She finally snapped out of the Scarlet Witch’s spell and found you. She had a list provided by another member of the new coven and your name was on it.
You had no clue you had any magic at all until Agatha tested you. Granted, throwing a chair at someone wasn’t the safest way of testing them, but it worked in your case. You flinched and the chair burst into flames, falling to ash as it hit you. You were a fire witch. A protector.
However, you were a fire witch who could only use your powers that one time. After that, it was as if you had a block. Agatha had thrown other things at you as her way of “helping”, though you wondered if she just wanted an excuse for a bit of violence. Nothing. Books and a wooden spoon bounced off of your head.
“Well, we’re just going to have to see what unlocks you,” she said.
The road was brutal and unforgiving, killing one witch per trial. It scared you to know that the next three could do the same to the remaining witches, yourself included.
Rio seemed strangely unaffected by the death surrounding them. Agatha did as well, but seemed a bit more sensitive to it than her ex. You had been a crying mess after the first loss. Now you were just afraid.
You had grown attached to the two other witches. Agatha was captivating. She was intensely ambitious to the point of selfishness, but also contained multitudes. You could see the layers of her emotions peeking through every now and then. She was larger than life and spellbinding. Rio, meanwhile, had more teeth. She was aggressive and passionate. While she seemed detached at times, she had this insatiable desire to live life to the fullest. It was as if she were new to it. Little did you know, she was out of practice when it came to feeling genuine attachment to people and being among the living.
You could tell straight away that the two had a long history. The tension was thick, hanging heavily in the air. The rest of your now deceased coven could feel it too.
When you woke up alone, the two surviving coven members were nowhere to be found. You walked out a bit into the woods, looking for them. You stopped short at the sight of Rio being pinned against a tree by Agatha.
Rio was smirking at the other woman as if to challenge her. Agatha leaned in, biting at Rio’s lips. Her thigh was pressed against her core, grinding against her leather pants. Rio smiled as she craned her head back against the trunk of the tree. Agatha’s hand let her wrist go and slid down her front, dipping beneath her waistband. Rio let out a gasp, earning a smug smile and arched brow from Agatha.
You tried to sneak away, but accidentally stepped on a twig, the snap alerting the couple to your presence. They both looked at you, making the blood in your body rise to your cheeks.
Your fingertips suddenly sparked, the magic you were previously unable to access now activating with arousal. You had always repressed your desires in the past, having been raised in a strict religious family. You had been intimidate with a partner in the past, but it was all very vanilla.
Agatha noticed your hands burning with fire, her mind working to decipher what that could mean about your power.
“I… uh, sorry,” you said, quickly retreating back to the fire, jumping when the flame surged on the burnt out logs.
You could hear Rio laughing mockingly in the distance.
A few minutes later, the pair found you. Rio sat next to you with that same smirk from before while Agatha barely even looked at you. Her eyes fell on the newly lit fire.
“Interesting,” she said, her face illuminated by the glow.
“I’ll say,” Rio said, her hand resting on your knee.
The moment Rio touched you, the fire grew in intensity. Agatha’s eyes widened, looking both alarmed and excited about what this meant.
“I guess we finally found your spark,” Agatha said, giving you a sly smile.
Two small flames jumped out of the fire, catching on the dirt in a way that wasn’t physically possible. A trail ignited, two lines of fire forming and spreading out. Agatha’s fascination turned to worry.
“Alright… enough spark, let’s pull it back…” she said nervously.
“I’m not doing anything!” you said, your heart racing.
The fire formed a path, the flames staying in two controlled lines that led them to a tower in the distance. Rio tilted her head, toying with a flower she bloomed from her hand.
“Well, I guess we know whose trial this is,” she said.
Your heart was in your throat. Your power was still so unpredictable. You had used it once in self defense on a chair and once just moments ago. You watched as the two other women led the way. Agatha turned around, regarding you before speaking.
“You can do this. The road wouldn’t be calling you if you couldn’t. Let’s go.”
She spun back around, dramatically flipping her coat with no regard for the flames. You took a moment to steel yourself before following them.
The path led to a tower made of ice. The walls reflected the moonlight, giving it a glow against the backdrop of the sky. The door had a stained glass portrait of the full moon with fire surrounding it.
You pushed the door open and stepped through, expecting the usual costume change. You looked at Agatha and Rio to see that they were naked. Agatha looked nonplussed while Rio had a wolfish smile. Looking down, you were mortified to see your own naked body with one addition.
“Well, I didn’t know you were packing more than magical heat…” Agatha purred, looking down at the sizable dick that had been bestowed upon you.
“No, I… I don’t have… the road did it!” you said, shocked at your new anatomy.
“Well, the road has wonderful taste,” she replied as you tried covering it with your hands.
“Enough admiring, we should find the challenge,” Rio said, looking you up and down once more before searching your surroundings.
The ceiling was out of your sight, positioned at the very top of the massive tower. There were portraits lining the circular frozen walls. They were lined up like film, carvings of stone with bodies in different positions. The floor was cushioned and covered in silk sheets and decadent pillows.
You walked along the wall, finally distracted enough to examine the room. You touched a wall and felt the cold against your fingertips. You stepped back to the center with Agatha and Rio. Once you were all in the middle of the room, an ice hourglass began to slowly fill with water, the cube on top melting as time passed. A shelf emerged with four icicles attached. A circle of low burning fire surrounded the coven as the timer began.
Something resembling snow fell from the ceiling, breaking into a fog the three of you breathed in. Your heart began to race and you felt a flush burning your cheeks. There was an iron frame that appeared over one of the portraits. It was a carving of two people entangled in the missionary position.
You noticed the other two women struggling to keep their focus. Their pupils dilated and focused on you. You looked down and saw where all of your blood had rushed to.
Agatha looked up at the carving.
“I think we know what your trial is,” Agatha said, her voice a bit raspy, “Little miss purity has to discover a few things.”
You would have been resistant if you had been with anyone else, but the two other women had been present in your dreams since the beginning of the road.
“Wait, what?”
“You heard her, firestarter,” Rio said, stalking up to you.
A thin sheen of sweat covered her body, causing a layer of goosebumps to break out. She looked like she was about to consume you.
“I know you feel it too. That need rushing through you?” she said, leaning in to whisper into your ear.
“The air of arousal,” Agatha said, her body nearly shivering with desire, “That’s what we breathed in. If we don’t satiate it, it can kill you. Are you okay with this?”
Agatha actually seemed to care about how you felt about this, despite the irresistible lust taking her over.
“Yes,” you said eagerly before you could stop yourself, “I wanted it before.”
You turned to Rio, who was standing an inch from you, her hands running along your arms. You pulled her into a kiss, the heat within you passing the point of no return. Rio fell back, pulling you with her. You landed over her, catching yourself with your hands. Seeing her beneath you like this was more intense than you could imagine.
Rio reached between you, her hand wrapping around your cock. Her touch sent a shock through you, the flames of the circle rising a bit. You lowered your hips down as she guided you into her. You both gasped at the sensation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling.
“Move,” Rio ordered.
You opened your eyes and locked onto hers. You slowly moved your hips, getting used to the motion. You let out a whine as you began to speed up. Rio rolled her hips with yours, bucking and grinding against you. You didn’t know what else to do but thrust. She reached down again and began playing with her own clit. Her cunt squeezed around you as her mouth fell open into a moan. The flames grew another foot. An icicle fell from the shelf, crashing against the floor. There were three left.
You could hear a cranking sound as the portraits spun around the room, the frame now over a carving of a woman riding a man. Rio sat up, about to top you when Agatha interrupted.
“You already got one,” Agatha said to Rio.
She nearly tackled you to the floor, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. She straddled you, grinding herself along the side of your cock. You squirmed, your breath shaking at the feeling of her wet lips massaging you. She reached down and positioned you before sinking down onto you. She threw her head back, her long hair falling down her back. Her chest was shamelessly pushed out as she moved. Her hips rocked and circled, leaving you without a thought in your mind. You bucked up, drawing a gasp from her. She took you by the wrists and guided them over her breasts. You held onto her as you fucked her, your back arching off of the cushioned floor. You sat up, kissing and sucking at her neck. Her arms encircled you, her hand tangled in your hair as she held you to her throat. You moaned against her skin as she rode you.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck…” Agatha whispered as she moved faster.
Suddenly, she tensed up, her body freezing her into a vision of pleasure. Her mouth hung open, her eyes squeezing shut. Her slick walls pulsed around you, making you shudder with your own orgasm. Another icicle fell as the fire grew again. You were still terribly hard in a way that was painful.
The whirring of the portraits snapped you from your haze. The one that was picked made your pulse quicken. You could see it had the same effect on your coven members. Rio smiled and Agatha looked you up and down.
Something inside of you took hold. You grabbed Agatha by the waist, flipping her onto her hands and knees. You looked at Rio, saying, “Move.”
Rio didn’t have to be told twice. She sat and opened her legs in front of Agatha. You checked the time, the hourglass half full. Sweat trickled down your face, the magic nearly driving you insane.
You moved to your knees behind Agatha, reaching down and grabbing her by the hair. She let out a shocked moan as you pulled her tresses before slamming into her. You shoved her head down into Rio’s pussy.
Her mouth immediately went to work, drawing hitches and sighs from Rio. You grabbed her by the hip with your free hand and pulled her into each thrust. The sound of moans, the wet sounds of Agatha’s mouth exploring Rio, and your thighs slapping against Agatha’s ass filled the tower. You felt a feral need to make her cum. Your hand went from her hair to her back. You dug your nails in and scratched down over its arch. You could feel the way Agatha reacted to it, knowing then that Agatha had a submissive side.
“Slap her,” Rio growled, “She loves it.”
You reared back, your hand coming down against her ass with a force. Agatha let out a wild cry against Rio’s warmth. She then went back to sucking on Rio’s clit, earning higher and higher moans. You knew she was close and also knew how to help Agatha to catch her up. You reached your arm around her and played with the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Ah! Fuck, yes!” she cried out, pressing her cheek to Rio’s inner thigh before returning to her.
The two women’s moans rose in pitch until all three of you broke. You fell forward, catching yourself on your hands before crushing Agatha. You could hear the shattering of another icicle as it fell. One left. The flames were several feet high and licking at the walls.
The carvings spun one last time. This one was more confusing than the others. Two women, lying one on top of the other facing the sky. The man was inside of one while the other held her.
“Ah, I see,” Rio said.
She guided Agatha as she laid down. Rio lay under her, her front pressing against her back. They were stacked on one another, waiting for you. You looked at the hourglass and saw how close you were to the end of your time.
You were on your knees when you held Agatha’s hips and thrusted into her. Her head fell back against Rio’s shoulder. You took no time for foreplay. You fucked her with abandon before pulling out of her, earning a violent glare.
You then slid into Rio, fucking her with the same force. She kissed and marked Agatha, her neck one big bruise. Your hands covered her breasts, pinching and tugging at them. She leaned down and kissed Agatha, pouring all of the hidden desire you had been harboring for her into it. You pulled out of Rio and sank back into Agatha, a whimper escaping her lips driving you absolutely insane.
She screamed as her cunt strangled you, her body spasming with her climax. You looked at her wild hair and her blissed out face. You wanted to remember this forever.
You then sank into Rio, pulling an animalistic growl from her that slightly scared you. Your thighs ached as you sped your thrusts, angling to find the part of Rio that made her scream. She shook and shrieked as she came with you following soon after, the pleasure blinding you for a moment.
The fire shot up, reaching the top of the tower as the final icicle fell. The walls melted down, water falling and rolling down to the ground. The carvings fell from the melted walls into the dirt. The hourglass filled and broke before disintegrating into a puddle. The fire that had been emanating from your magic returned to your hands. You looked down and your clothes were back and your member was gone.
“Well,” Agatha said, standing on wobbly legs before dusting herself off, “Good job, team.”
Rio snorted with a laugh, getting up and offering you a hand. You took it and walked with them, now knowing the trip down the road would be much more fun.
Thank you for reading! Reblog this if you liked it 🖤
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agathario#rio vidal#agatha x rio#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#marvel#lgbtq#agatha x rio x reader#agatha x reader#rio x reader#rio x you#agatha x you#mcu fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#agatha all along fanfic
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I also had this idea about dilf era art having his sex tape(s) leaked.. or leaking them on purpose because his career is falling off.
The Christian moms would be clutching their pearls when they hear about THE art donaldson getting his back blown out 💀
His tennis career might be over but maybe he's got a new one with his pretty younger gf and her massive strap
ufff angel ! !
it’s a massive scandal when it leaks on twitter from an anonymous account.
the start of the video is actually pretty tame; and you’d never expect the man in the video to be the wimbledon-winning art donaldson. the first few minutes show a fit, naked man sitting on the edge of a bed with a girl in his lap. his hands on her hips, his cock bobbing in the little space left between them. she’s wearing a lacy black lingerie set, and even though you can’t see their faces—the framing cuts off their heads—you can tell from the wet, depraved noises alone that they’re aggressively making out.
the sloppy kissing turns into the two individuals getting handsy. he reaches up to squeeze her tits over the fabric, and her hands seem to move up behind his neck to tug on the back of his hair. a flash of blond locks can be seen. that’s the first hint of his identity. he moans when she pulls, his abdomen tensing and his length dribbling a sticky glob of arousal from his tip. in the next instant, one of her hands reaches down and starts to palm his tip. he jolts forward and whines, letting out an anguished “hnnghh” as she starts to stroke him.
his breathing gets quicker, the pale skin of his chest growing more and more pink by the second, before his fingers appear to dig into her body and he tenses up. her hand pulls away, effectively edging him. he shudders and wraps his arms around her lower back, pulling her further into his body. “pleasepleaseplease..” he can be heard whispering to begging her.
the tape cuts to black for only a moment before—
…wow.
she’s now got him bent over onto all-fours on the bed, his ass facing her pelvis while she lines up a thick pink dildo that’s attached to a harness she hadn’t been wearing before. his head is still lifted just enough to keep his eyes out of the video, but his jaw and lips and the tip of his nose can be seen. his mouth is hung open in a desperate ‘o’ while he feels her strap prod and begin to push in. it slides into him with little resistance, and she can be heard cooing down to the man below.
“thaaat’s it, baby.. good job.. guess we prepped you enough, huh?”
it’s teasing yet authoritative in nature, and the man just lets out an anguished groan of pure unfiltered pleasure as she positions her hands at his hips and starts to earnestly fuck into him. each roll of her pelvis elicits a sharp moan and whimper, and anyone watching can clearly see his cock drooling onto the sheets helplessly.
suddenly, after only a couple of minutes of this, the woman hikes her leg up onto the bed, bending it at the knee to gain better leverage on the side farthest from the camera, and pushes her hand down into the space between his shoulder blades.
he lets out a surprised whimper, keens, and then falls face-down into the bedding.
and in that moment in the video, every single person watching finally realized who he was.
all of his features are now totally visible. every single one.
art’s face is burning; his eyes rolling back into his head while his brows pinch up in ecstasy. his cheek is pressing into the mattress, his ass still up to meet her movements. he grips the white bedding under his palms and then bites his lip, “ohhh, fuck,” he whines, almost girlish, “fuck me harder, i’m gonna come, baby— ah-haah— i’m so close right now-!”
he’s making noises like a total pornstar; someone fit for the limelight and the mess of it all.
the woman, who can now be assumed to be his (controversially) younger girlfriend, complies with his begging with no more than a low chuckle. she bucks into him faster, and art yelps.
she raises her right hand and brings it down over his ass in a playful slap before she squeezes the flesh. his entire frame jolts and then he squeezes his eyes shut, his back perfectly arched, “.. im gonna come, can i— mgnh- touch myself? can you-or, i c— AH!”
the tennis player’s words get cut off when the girl leans over his back and wraps her hand around his sticky dick hanging heavily between his thighs. she pumps him quickly in time with her thrusts and it takes no more than twenty seconds before he’s trembling all over. and god, it’s a sight to behold.
“i’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come, baby, im gonna come! i’m—“
a strangled curse flies past his lips before he’s squealing and gushing milky strings of his release over her fingers and onto the bed. moans of pleasure turn into sobs of overstimulation as she milks him in her grasp, strong shots of his orgasm blending into pathetic dribbles of whatever’s left inside his balls.
he collapses under her, her strap still filling him, and she tenderly strokes his shaking back with her left hand. art’s gasping for air like he’s been deprived of it for a moment too long, and some of his hair is sticking to his forehead. his eyes open slightly, albeit lidded, and he moans out a slurred “thank you” before the video cuts to an end.
the uproar in its wake is insane.
he’s all over celebrity gossip magazines, and being talked about in raunchy podcasts, and exploited in deep-dive youtube videos. everything. it’s everywhere.
people were talking about him now who hadn’t even thought about him in years.
he was the talk of the town, really.
.. so art doesn’t even feel guilty that he was the one who clicked ‘post’.
#🌸 - ask prompts#💌 - mutuals#i wrote basically a whole fic but i love this concept sm omg angel ur mind#ok wait it’s not as much as i thought#but i got carried away whoopsiesss#i personally need to see that tape#i need to see him getting bent into all kinds of nasty positions thanks#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader
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Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Tangerine has always chosen her over you, until he doesn't anymore.
Genre: angst and fluff
Warnings: Lemon, Tangerine, and reader are in their early twenties, toxic relationship, swearing, violence, men (the gross kind), body/weight insecurities, cheating, intoxication
~ based on a conversation i had with my wife @little-miss-dilf-lover and lightly inspired by Dial Drunk by Noah Kahn ~
TANGERINE MASTERLIST
It was midnight when you heard the sharp knocks on your apartment door. You knew your roommate was already asleep so you quickly pad out of your bedroom and through the living room, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you open the door a sliver and peer out into the corridor. You see Lemon first, a sympathetic look painted across his features as he holds up an extremely drunk Tangerine.
Tangerine's face is covered in bruises, the skin around his eye is slowly turning purple and you see the blood on his knuckles as he flexes his hands. Your eyes widen and you hurry out into the hall, your bare feet against the harsh carpet as you quietly shut the door behind you. "What happened?" you whisper, worried for him. Tangerine just grunts, his eyes glossy.
He's been crying.
Lemon groans and holds his brother higher, looking at you knowingly. As if he knows the news will somehow break your heart. You stare at him, as if to say 'cut the bullshit' because you want to see if it has something to do with Macey—which it probably does.
Tangerine and Macey have been dating on and off for years. Since high school she's had him wrapped around her pinky, his head a lust-filled mess that very quickly turned into full-blown puppy-love. She'd always be the one to dump him and he'd always come back because he loved her so much. It was an endless cycle that lasted until now, your junior year of university.
You hate her. You have never hated anyone as much as you hate Macey Addams.
You hate her silky ginger hair, the way her dark eyes contrast Tangerine's blue ones so well, and that fake smile she reserves for you when you see her. You hate how she laughs, how she talks, and how she looks in those skin-tight dresses Tangerine loves so much.
You hate her.
You hate how you're not her.
"Ran into some 'friends' from high school at the bar," Lemon says, emphasizing the word friends with a grunt, "Said some things this dick didn't like so he had to start a fucking bar fight, like some fucking criminal. All because of some bird who doesn't want nothin' to do with you anymore, mate," Lemon scolds Tangerine, who slouches against the wall and slides down, holding his head in his arms.
"Someone called the coppers and I had to bail him out."
Your eyes widen and you run a hand in your messy hair, kneeling in front of Tangerine as you look up at Lemon. "Really?"
Lemon nods and removes his hand from Tangerine's shoulder. He walks away further down the hall, shaking his head as he groans. Lemon's mumbling curses under his breath and so is Tangerine, only his sound sadder than his brother.
"Hey," you whisper, "Tan?"
His arms attach themselves to your waist, holding you close as he sobs. You sigh, resting your hand on his head as you let him hold you. Sometimes you'd find yourself being bitter, because why does he love Macey so much when you've always been here for him?
You'd gift him the moon if you could, but instead, you're stuck being just this—his best friend.
Not that you're complaining.
"Y/n?" he asks a while later as you both sit on the floor of your room, having managed to sneak him quietly through the living room. You're nursing frozen peas to his knuckles as he leans his head against your bed. Knowing Tangerine was in good hands, Lemon had gone home.
You hum, looking at him.
"If I could choose who I was in love with," he begins, his intoxication still obvious only he's slowly sobering up. He blinks slowly, finding his words, "I'd choose you."
You look into his blue eyes you'd normally want to drown yourself in and your heart shatters. He means well, you know this. Plus, how is he supposed to know you're actually madly in love with him when you've never told him?
However, the words hurt like hell knowing his love for Macey is almost otherworldly. He speaks of it like a chemical reaction he has no control over and you're simply the choice. Something mundane and easier.
You turn your head and quickly wipe a tear from your cheek so he doesn't see. You look at him again and strain a smile.
"I'd choose you too, Tan."
* * *
Four months later, although sometimes you would find him lost in thoughts of her, she was mostly a distant memory and your feelings for Tangerine have been successfully repressed.
The pub is extra crowded this evening and you slither your way through people to where your date is. His name is Adrien, which is a respectable name. He's handsome enough if not a little boring. You order your drinks and then the conversation turns sour.
"I mean, females need to watch their crabs, y'know. You should really order a salad," Adrien pushes the menu across the table, his voice calm like he'd just called the sky blue. You frown, cheeks warm as you cross an arm over your stomach, feeling insecure in your dress.
"Females?" you repeat in disbelief that a man like this exists.
He doesn't answer. The waiter comes with the wine and you gulp yours down in one go.
In hindsight you should have left the moment Adrien opened his mouth, but something inside you embarrassingly craved any form of affection up until he tried to kiss you outside the pub, and when you pushed him away for the second time, he called you an ugly bitch and stormed off.
Your lip wobbles as you stare at the lamppost, your hand clutching your purse strap so hard it hurts. You sniffle and fumble with your phone, texting the one person you know won't hesitate to come pick you up. You really don't want to walk home.
Minutes later, his car screeches in front of the pub and he opens the door from the driver's side, looking at you with a concerned expression as you climb in, buckling yourself. "Thanks," you mutter.
"S'no problem, poppet," Tangerine says, sending you a sideways look as he starts the car again, shifting the gear as he drives off. You sink into the expensive leather seats and look out the window. You sniffle again, still holding an arm over your stomach.
You keep hearing Tangerine's ringtone. Someone's bombarding him with texts. You turn, catching a glimpse of the contact's name as she calls him up again. The screen flashes her name. Mae. Macey. Tangerine turns his phone over in the center console, turning off the sound as he focuses on the road.
You look at him, your frown momentarily distracting you from how watery your eyes have become from the evening events. "Don't you want to answer?" you whisper. You know Tangerine would usually jump at an opportunity for her attention. This time, his jaw clenches and he shakes his head.
"Rude to answer the phone when you're with someone, innit?" he says, looking at you briefly. "Are ya okay, love?" he asks, his tone softer now.
You're a little surprised he's putting you over Macey but you relish in it.
You shrug. "Hm, bad date," you say.
Tangerine's nose scrunches and his hands tighten on the wheel. "Did something happen?"
"If you count him being a jerk who thought it was normal to comment on my food choice on the first date, then yeah." You roll your eyes and look out the window again, blinking rapidly not to cry. You cross your other arm across your stomach as you instinctively suck in.
Tangerine catches the movement and his frustration boils. "You look beautiful," he says and places his hand on your knee. "Don't," he whispers, waiting for you to relax your poor stomach. You do it with a sigh and you're silent the rest of the car ride.
Once you're back home, Tangerine agrees to stay the night to keep you company after such a horrible experience. It really isn't smart, considering your heart latches on to him immediately, and it is only sent plummeting when just before your eyes flutter shut to sleep, you hear Tangerine's muffled voice in your bathroom, her name on his tongue.
Of course, he'd called her back.
* * *
Six months later Lemon is throwing a housewarming party for him and his fiancée, Liv. You'd decide to bring your boyfriend of three months. Unbeknownst to you, Tangerine also had invited a plus one neither you nor Lemon approved of.
"Y/n/n!" her shrill voice calls over the music as you turn, your champagne almost falling from your hand as you see her. Her fiery red hair is cut shorter but it's as pretty as ever as she drops Tangerine's arm and skips over, pulling you into a hug. "I've missed you." Macey's tone is sweet, almost as if you'd been best friends for years.
You see Tangerine handing Lemon his and Macey's coat, whispering something to his brother who sends him a dirty look. Macey continues to hug you and then introduces herself to your boyfriend Charlie. You don't miss how Charlie's gaze flickers to her breasts in her navy skin-tight dress. Macey smiles sweetly at him.
You feel sick.
You excuse yourself and find Tangerine in the kitchen as he looks for a drink. "Macey? Really? You're a fucking puppy wrapped around her finger," you spit, slightly drunk from the champagne and frustrated from the situation.
Tangerine rolls his eyes. "She's changed. We're good now."
"You sound so stupid," you accuse, walking over and shoving his shoulder in an attempt to knock some sense into him. He grunts and steadies you with his hands as he frowns.
"You're sloshed, Y/n."
You shake your head and push his hand away, eyes lidded. "You fucking tell your girl to keep her dirty mitts away from my boyfriend then!" Tangerine's anger rises as he hates what you're implying just as much as you do.
"She's not like that," he argues and you scoff, turning around to storm off into the living room again.
"Not anymore," Tangerine calls but you ignore him.
An hour or two later, after some rounds of charades and sneaking glances you wish you hadn't seen between Charlie and Macey, you're even drunker. Lemon is beginning to worry as Liv insists you have more water. You don't know what you hate more, that your current boyfriend keeps looking at another woman, or how said woman keeps playing with Tangerine's tie as she sits curled up in his lap.
You think it's all in your drunken mind when you stumble into the backyard and see Charlie with his hand under Macey's dress, her leg wrapped around his hip as they kiss passionately. They're probably fueled by liquor and lust but it doesn't matter, the dam breaks and you turn around, stumbling inside, alerting them to your presence. You're crying as you slam your head into someone's hard chest.
"Woah. Bloody hell," Tangerine frowns and looks at you. He's probably the only sober person here. He's been fully sober for more than half a year now. His hand comes up to your cheek immediately as he pads at your tears. "Love, what happened?"
You don't answer him, only sobbing more as you push by him and rush into the upstairs bathroom. Charlie stumbles inside, buttoning up his shirt and he makes uncomfortable eye contact with Tangerine. He stops cold, clears his throat, and nods his head at him before he rushes up the stairs after you.
Tangerine's stomach drops. He takes a calming breath and puts his hands in his pockets as he walks outside and sees Macey adjusting her dress and wiping the sides of her mouth, where her mauve lipstick had smudged.
She turns to him, her voice still as she says calmly, "I can explain, T." She doesn't sound remorseful in any way, a clear indication that he's been letting her walk all over him.
He takes another breath and walks to her, his demeanor just as calm and Macey's expression falters. Usually, this would rile him up and she loved the adrenaline she received from calming him down and taming him. This? This was new.
"It's one thing to hurt me," Tangerine drawls, staring at her with a cold gaze. "It's another to hurt her."
Macey frowns. "Who? Y/n? Who cares—"
"I care," he interrupts and takes Macey's chin in his hand, not tightening enough to hurt her, just to scare her. "You went too far this time and I should have never given you another chance. This? Us? We should have ended years ago."
He releases her and Macey's eyes widen. "Tangerine,"
"Get out." He says sternly and turns around, adding in a harsh tone, "And lose my fuckin' number."
Tangerine hears Charlie banging on the bathroom door the moment he enters the house again and his fists clench. He strides upstairs and pulls on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling him jump as he looks at Tangerine. "Ya think ya haven't done enough?"
Charlie opens his mouth to protest but hearing Tangerine, you open the door just a little and peek outside, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a mess of snot under your nose. Tangerine's gaze softens when you sniffle.
"Tan," you whisper.
Charlie puts his hand on the door and attempts to pry it open. "Y/n!" He sounds urgent but Tangerine shoves him away, sending him a glare as he lets himself into the small bathroom and locks the door behind him again.
You're inconsolable now as you cry violently. As angry as you are with Tangerine for bringing her, you need him now. You grasp his shirt and rest your forehead on his chest, shaking. Tangerine is as mad at himself as you are, maybe even more so. He wraps his arms around you and inhales the scent of your shampoo as he kisses your head repeatedly.
"Darlin'," he whispers, his voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
He hears another annoying sharp knock from Charlie again and instantly bangs his heel against the door, startling you a little but he holds you tighter and barks.
"Piss the fuck off, twat."
The knocking ends.
* * *
An hour later, Tangerine has you sitting on Lemon and Liv's kitchen counter as they clean up from the party. He hands you some water as he rolls up his sleeves. One of his hands finds your thigh and he rubs it soothingly. You look up at him from behind your glass, unable to resist the question.
"Is there something wrong with me?"
Tangerine's forehead pinches and pulls his hand away so he can cup your cheeks instead. He stands in between your legs, his eyes level with yours as they search your features. "Pardon? Say that again."
"What does she have that I don't? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better body? I- I want to be wanted like her," you sniffle, your words slurred as you're still very intoxicated no matter how much water you've drank. Your cheeks are damp from your tears. "Why does she take every man I like? Why did she take you from me when I loved you damn so much?"
Tangerine's heart leaps at your words. "Loved me?" he repeats, his thumb caressing your cheek.
You nod and look into his eyes. "Love," you admit, "For years—and it never stops either and I tried. I tried, Tan."
You sound so sad.
His hand shakes on your cheek and for a moment you think he's leaning in to kiss you as your eyes flutter, but instead, he crushes you into a hug. You relax in his arms, shutting your eyes fully as you whimper and the sound hits him hard.
He'd been such an idiot.
"I would kiss ya," he whispers, sounding sincere, "I'd kiss ya if ya weren't so damn drunk."
You're speechless.
Liv walks in, holding an armful of paper towels with Lemon on her heels. She smiles when Tangerine shifts away from you, clearing his throat, and you try to look busy, your head spinning from Tangerine's previous words. Lemon raises an eyebrow at his brother and Tangerine communicates with his eyes. Lemon chuckles.
"G'night, lovebirds," he grins as Liv puts away the paper towels and smirks too, slapping Lemon's arm playfully.
Tangerine's cheeks burn crimson all the way up to his ears.
Once they're gone he turns his attention to you again, looking at you fondly. "I've been a real fuckin' prick, haven't I?" he says and pushes some hair behind your ear. "Lookin' at 'er, when what I wanted was right here in front of me this whole damn time."
You blink at him, his words sinking in but you're too drunk to comprehend.
Tangerine kisses your forehead. "I'll make it up to you," he says, his chest filling with warmth. It's a promise. One he keeps because when you wake up in Lemon's guest room, Tangerine walks in shirtless with a breakfast tray full of an assortment of toast, beans, and eggs.
"Monrin' love," he says. He's wearing that familiar smile. A peaceful, happy, smile. The one you haven't seen him wear in a while.
Damn does it look good on him.
tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader
#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine x reader#tangerine x you#tangerine x y/n#tangerine bullet train#tangerine fic#tangerine fanfiction#lemon and tangerine#tangerine fluff#tangerine#bullet train tangerine#bullet train movie#bullet train#tangerine bullet train x fem!reader#tangerine bullet train x reader#tangerine bullet train angst#tangerine angst#tangerine bullet train fluff#tangerine imagines#tangerine bullet train imagines#tangerine bullet train fanfiction#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson fic#aaron taylor johnson fanfiction#tangerine 🍊
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just another little makeout blurb?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
series masterlist
.
Luke wasn’t exactly complaining that you were on his lap, but he wasn’t exactly sure how it happened.
It had been a rare day off with no game, no practice and no training requiring Luke to head into the Rock. He had been content to just lounge around the apartment, waving Jack off as he rushed out to grab lunch with some of the other boys in the team. His body was tired and exhausted and he simply wanted a day to just do nothing.
And then you had texted him about having the urge to walk to the smoothie place near his apartment and he had practically tripped over his feet to meet you there.
However, the casual walk was quickly abandoned when Jersey’s unpredictable weather had a downpour drenching you both the second you stepped out of the smoothie shop and racing back towards Luke’s apartment, laughing and clutching onto each other with your free hands until you reached shelter.
And somewhere between giving you spare clothes to change into and trying to find some movie to put on the background, you had found yourself on Luke’s lap with your hands tugging on his curls and he was pretty sure he could die happily right at that moment.
“Fuck, Cherry, baby—” His words were cut off the second you attached your lips to the spot below his ear that made coherent thoughts a little hard to voice.
“Mmm, sound so pretty when I do that,” you murmured, your breath warm against his skin and it made it a little hard to remember what he wanted to say.
“We should be careful,” Luke managed to get out as you lifted your head to look at him. “Jack’s probably gonna be back soon.”
You raised your brows. “Do you want me to stop?”
Luke glanced down at your hands now resting on his stomach. He could feel his abs softly clenching under your touch, the sudden urge to rip his shirt off and feel your skin against his becoming overwhelming.
He shook his head.
Your lips twitched. “Words, baby.”
“No, don’t stop,” Luke swallowed, looking back up at you with a dazed look in his eyes that he only really gets around you.
“Couldn’t say no to a face like that,” you mused, leaning down until your lips were brushing his.
He leaned up into embrace, only to let out a small whine when you pulled away. He looked lost, his lips parted and some pathetic beg on the tip of his tongue before you finally leaned down to kiss him.
Luke let out a moan of relief as your tongue licked into his mouth, his hands tightening on your waist before they moved forward to cup your ass.
You could feel the smile on his lips when you moaned in approval.
“S’much better than smoothies,” he murmured between kisses, sounding a bit drunk with his words slurred together.
“Mhm,” you hummed, hands cupping his flushed cheeks as he leaned into your touch. “And what are your trainers gonna say about your smoothie choice?”
“It’s fine,” he said as he flashed you a grin, something so endearing about the sight of him being bashful and happy with his curls a mess and his cheeks burning pink. “Kissing burns calories, you know? This is my workout for the day.”
You snorted. “That was a terrible line.”
“Yeah, but you’re still gonna kiss me,” he retorted.
“Bold, are we?”
Luke shrugged, smiling. “I’m learning. Heard confidence is sexy.”
“Something like that,” you mused before leaning back down to kiss him again.
.
#luke hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes fic#luke hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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I guess it’s never really over
mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter one -
Late arrivals and big asks
A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.
wc: 10.1k
series masterlist | series playlist
June -
The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.
Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.
Robin.
Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.
“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”
The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.
“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”
Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.
Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.
“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.
“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.
“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”
There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.
“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”
He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”
Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.
“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.
“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.
“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.
“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”
Your best friend scoffs at you.
“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.
“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.
“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.
It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.
“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”
It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.
“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.
See Steve Harrington again.
I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’
You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.
“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.
“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.
She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.
“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”
“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.
“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”
The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.
“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.
It’s just a summer, right?
The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.
Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.
“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.
“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.
“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.
Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.
Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.
“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.
Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.
Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.
“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.
His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.
His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.
“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.
“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.
Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.
God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.
The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.
His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.
His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.
Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?
“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“
Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.
You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.
Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.
“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”
“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.
“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.
“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”
His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.
“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”
It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.
“I’m here for the summer.”
Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.
“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.
“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair
“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.
“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”
She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.
“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”
“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”
“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.
It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.
“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.
“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.
A whole summer? Fuck.
“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”
You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.
“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.
“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Seriously–
“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.
“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.
Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.
“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.
You know how this game works.
“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.
“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”
You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.
“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.
“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.
“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.
“Robin!”
“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”
“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.
“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”
“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.
Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.
“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”
“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”
“Cheers!”
You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”
She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”
“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.
There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.
With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.
“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.
An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.
“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.
You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.
“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”
“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.
“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”
“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.
“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.
You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.
Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.
You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.
Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.
“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“
“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”
“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.
His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.
Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.
“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”
“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.
“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.
“Does she know that?”
“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.
So you scoot back.
“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.
“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”
“Robin!”
“What?!”
She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.
“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.
Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.
You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.
It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.
“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.
The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.
“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.
‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.
“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”
Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.
“I am twenty-four and single.”
Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.
“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”
“No -“
“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”
“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.
“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.
“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.
“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.
“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.
Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.
“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.
“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.
“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.
“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“
“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.
He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.
“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.
You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.
You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.
“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.
“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.
You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.
“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.
“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.
You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.
“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.
“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.
“You really broke my heart, you know that?”
Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.
You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.
He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.
“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”
Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.
Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.
“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.
“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.
I’m just tutoring him.
That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.
It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.
The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.
“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.
“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.
“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.
A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.
“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.
“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.
Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.
It was Pity.
Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.
“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.
“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”
“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.
“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.
“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.
Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.
“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”
Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.
Ibuprofen first, then your car.
Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.
The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.
The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.
Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.
“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.
“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.
“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.
“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”
The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.
“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.
“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”
That was a lie, he begged him.
“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.
It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.
He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.
“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.
“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.
“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”
“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.
“Look -“
“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.
A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.
“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“
“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…
“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.
“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.
“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”
“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”
“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.
“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”
“Is this the bad news?”
“Kind of,”
“What do you mean kind of?”
“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.
“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.
“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.
“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.
“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”
He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.
“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.
“Me?”
He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.
“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.
He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.
Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.
“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.
“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”
Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.
“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”
It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,
“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”
beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean
🌻 chapter two
#my writing#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x y/n
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Imagining this within the first week of Charles and Edwin knowing each other. Charles has helped Edwin catch up on a BIT of what’s happened in the last 70 years, but Edwin can tell that Charles’ knowledge and strengths are not in history (finding out there was an even worse world war right after The Great War was certainly horrific though). So Edwin decides his best bet is to look in the public archives. Charles is sitting in the room with him absolutely bored out of his skull when he comments “Wow, you weren’t joking about not being great at people, were you?”
To which Edwin’s patience runs out, and he snidely responds, “Evidently not. If my researching the events of the last seventy years is so off-putting to you, then you can leave.”
Edwin was expecting some kind of token protest, but instead Charles just hops up, and says, “Cheers mate. See you.” Then LEAVES. Just like that. Edwin would like to be offended, but he supposes he did tell Charles to go. He just thought there would have been more to it than that? It almost feels…anticlimactic. At least he and Charles barely knew each other. Better to cut their losses now than get attached. Even as he thinks it he can’t help but feel maybe he was already growing attached.
So he spends the whole day digging through the archive and he learns so much about the past half century. It’s amazing and daunting just how much as changed. No wonder Charles hadn’t been able to go over even a fraction of it. It’s like the world is a completely different place.
He’s engrossed in his research when a head pops in through the door, and violently startles him with a cheerful, “Hey mate!” Edwin doesn’t have a heartbeat, but if he did it would be running a mile a minute from that fright. Charles is just grinning as he walks through the door. “I have to say, that’s my favourite part of being dead so far. I can just walk through walls.” Charles continues to chat happily, completely oblivious to Edwin’s shock.
Eventually Edwin gains enough of his senses back to interrupt Charles and say, “You came back.”
Charles just cocks his head, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah bruv. You’ve been here ALL DAY. The sun’s started going down. I know we don’t need to eat or sleep, but I figure you should take a break. Plus all the people playing football at the park left, so I got bored.”
Edwin doesn’t quite know what to say to that. He’s still working on the fact Charles came back. Charles hadn’t planned on leaving in any permanent way. He just went to do his own thing while Edwin did his. Yet instead of anything intelligent coming out of his mouth, he says “Football?”
“Oh c’mon! I know you had football even a thousand years ago. Yeah, I went to play with some other guys at the park across the street.”
Edwin snorts at that, and isn’t that a strange and wonderful feeling, laughing after all this time. He doesn’t even know if he did it often before he went to Hell, but here Charles has been making him laugh on and off for the week they’ve known each other. “Yes, we had football. You’ll have to explain how you managed to play a team sport without being seen by either team. You are right though. If it’s getting dark out, they’ll be turning the lights out in here soon. We might as well leave for the day.”
“Cheers. Mostly it involved messing with the ball so it went the wrong way when they kicked it. Oh! I kicked one over a fence. Do you think we can go grab it? How about your day? Learn anything exciting?”
Edwin leads them out, and now in a much better mood he shares something he thinks Charles will enjoy. “As a matter of fact, there was quite a lot about how music evolved, and styles from the Americas really took off since the 20s.”
#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#Mirella's muses#These boys are just giving me so many ideas
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the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso
its missing jenni hours, little mini series incoming the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso
"sí sí sí i am forever in your debt león. happy?" you laughed, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder as you weighed your carry on, breathing a sigh of relief when it didn't breach the limit for your flight.
"i will be happy when you finally come home!" your best friend whined making you roll your eyes. "my ass is on its way maría, and tu culo better pick me up later!" you warned, muting her for a moment as you stepped up to the front desk and gave your details, boarding pass printed and handed over.
"no i am not thanking you, i was getting my boarding pass. my stuff is all accounted for sí? it arrived safely?" you frowned in worry, this entire process having been anything but smooth.
"sí amiga, just like i told you yesterday and every other day you've asked everything is in boxes ready to be unpacked once you move, and there is just a few things and files and boxes still in storage at your old place in the garage." mapi promised as you exhaled, hovering by the security check knowing you'd need to hang up before going through, promising mapi to call her the moment you landed before ending the call.
you'd grown up in zaragoza, a few houses down from the dirty blonde you'd been practically attached to like a siamese twin almost your whole life. as you got older you'd moved to madrid to go to university, and then to barcelona for better career opportunities once you graduated.
though for the last three years you'd been living in portugal, a dream job when it arose far too tempting to pass as much as it hurt you to move away from your life, friends and family all still scattered around spain.
you of course returned home to visit but once you'd fallen in love the visits had been few and far between, your life becoming split in two as you had anchors tying you down in either country, admittedly maybe allowing the one in portugal a little too much influence.
which is why it hurt so much when that anchor was suddenly cut loose, almost drowning you in the aftermath of what you'd describe as your first real heartbreak.
so licking your wounds you found yourself with a choice, to stay and soldier through the tattered remains of your life in portugal or retreat back to spain with your tail between your legs and into the arms of the rest of your support circle.
the choice was one you probably made a little too fast once your best friend sweet talked the right people and popped up on her weekend off with a job offer and a plan, more than ready to drag you back home.
it hadn't been the easiest of processes, you'd given your two weeks in at your job which turned into four and then into six so you could adequately train your replacement and smoothly handover your client list.
right after the breakup mapi had convinced you to let her rent out your old place in barcelona for some extra income while you weren't sure how long you'd still be in portugal, your now ex quite the well respected lawyer meant you'd come off with much less than you deserved in assets after the split.
you were crashing with a coworker and slowly shipping your belongings home to meet you whenever you could finally leave all this mess behind you.
though really your old place was too large for just you and though you were returning home you wanted a fresh start which meant a new place, mapi offering for you to stay with her while you searched for the right one.
between her and her girlfriend they technically had an apartment each in the same building, though they spent majority of their time in ingrids which was set up best, mapi's used more as a storage locker which is why she was more than happy to let you stay there temporarily.
and with all sorts of tourists flocking to the warm beaches of barcelona for the summer it made sense that you wring out a little extra money from your old place before putting it on the market.
so now finally free from all that tied you to portugal bar a few friendships you suspected may eventually die out with the distance, and almost all of your belongings safely back in spain, it was time for you to join them.
"estás bromeando." you snickered in disbelief as you exited the terminal, spotting the sign and balloons right away and praying they weren't for you. but of course knowing your family, no such luck.
"i am suddenly wishing i lied about which flight i took." you called out with a shake of your head, a cheeky grin and a blur of tattoos and tan skin darting in front of you before a body was slamming you nearly to the ground.
"hola amiga." you exhaled happily, squeezing the footballer just as tightly as you gave her girlfriend a wave who was hanging back with a smile. "mejor amiga." mapi corrected, pulling away and sloppily kissing your cheek making you grimace and push her away.
"you drove all the way here to pick me up? i told you i could come see you on the weekend!" you laughed at your parents, knowing it was almost a four hour journey from your childhood home where they still lived to the airport they were stood in now.
"it has been many years we have prayed for this day hija, let us enjoy it." your mami smiled warmly as you hugged them both next, exhaling happily at the rapid spanish which floated around the air.
you greeted ingrid next, having met the girl many times despite no longer living here, often teasing your best friend that should they break up you'd actually take ingrids side since she was so lovely, but really you adored seeing her so loved up and well treated by the norweigan.
"welcome home from prison? maría!" you groaned, the defender hiding behind her girlfriend making both yours and ingrids eyes roll. "it was his idea!" her finger reached around and pointed to your papi who shrugged with a smile that said it all.
~
"and you told her i was coming to grab some things?" you clarified with mapi who hummed in confirmation. the footballer had been doing the majority of the communication with your tenant in your old place considering until now you'd been in another country and she had set the whole thing up anyway.
you'd tried to offer her some money for all of her help which all that earned you was a firm punch to the arm and a warning not to be stupid, reminding you that family always helps family and doesn't expect anything in return.
"sí sí she said she wouldn't be home anyway, and you are only needing to access the garage so you will not be entering the house." mapi assured as you nodded, telling her to text you what she wanted you to grab from the market on your way back before ending the call.
stupidly mislabeling a few boxes had meant you were missing a large amount of clothing, and though both ingrid and mapi assured you were free to wear anything of theirs you already felt like you were asking too much of them staying with them anyway.
besides a lot of your more work appropriate clothes were what was missing and due to start this new role in a few days time and anything but a patient woman you were quite eager to get your ducks in a line.
"oh come on!" you grunted, having twisted the key in the garage door but struggling to pull it open, something that had pained you for years. a waterfall of curse words fell from your lips as your frustration grew and you strained to tug it open, hope fasting fading.
"you know robbers do not usually make so much noise?" you jumped at a voice behind you, dropping the door and spinning around with a startled expression.
"lo siento. i am not a robber, i am-" you tried to explain but the taller girl waved off your words. "the owner, sí? i spoke to mapi this morning." she smiled charmingly, pearly white teeth bared in amusement.
"i am jenni, your tenant." she added on with a grin holding out a heavily tattooed hand as you nodded in understanding and properly introduced yourself. "trouble with the door? there is a trick." she held up a finger and nodding for you to move aside.
you frowned curiously but did as she asked, watching as she twisted the key and popped her shoulder into the door, your eyebrows shooting up nearly as fast as the door was opened. "fácil!" she winked and gestured inside.
"i lived here for nearly five years and-" you mumbled with an annoyed huff. "-and i live here for a few weeks and know all the tricks." jenni laughed, hovering just outside as you squatted down and began to move through boxes.
"something like that." you sent her a smile over your shoulder. "i promise i will get everything out soon, my car is still in portugal and its the last thing to come back and-" you stopped yourself realizing a complete stranger would be the last person to care.
"and i do not need to be wasting more of your time, lo siento." you shook your head, finding the box you needed and tugging it up and out. "no need to apologise. you are from barcelona?" jenni asked curiously as you shook your head.
"zaragoza, but i have been living in portugal for the last few years." you answered with a polite smile. "mm then how did you end up with a house in barcelona?" jenni questioned, lips curled upward and eyes scanning you up and down.
"my mami taught me not to talk to strangers." you teased making her laugh. "so did mine but here i am letting one into my garage." jenni pointed out as you now laughed. "my garage, technically." you shrugged, noticing a large motorcycle in the corner of the garage.
"pulling the landlord card querida? vale vale. well i have paperwork we both signed though that says for another four and a half months it is my garage." jenni reminded with a grin to which you couldn't argue.
"do you ride?" you asked nodding curiously toward the bike. "what happened to not talking to strangers? i cannot ask how you ended up in barcelona but you can ask me about my bike?" jenni gasped mockingly as you rolled your eyes.
"well you just answered my question anyway." you smiled picking up the box of clothes and moving back outside as jenni effortlessly reached up and grabbed the roller door to bring it back down, something you needed a ladder for which was oddly attractive.
jenni herself was quite attractive, the way her bright eyes followed you and rose pink links curved into an alluring smile, not to mention each of her long limbs covered in even more tattoos than mapi as she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a plain white oversized shirt.
you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a second stranger who came storming out of the house, flipping the girl in front of you off and practically diving into a car speeding away making you frown as the other girl in front of you rolled her eyes.
"friend of yours?" you asked with a raised eyebrow as jenni shrugged. "something like that. would you like to come in for a drink?" the abruptness of her question catching you off guard as you opened and closed your mouth.
"i don't think-" you started, placing down the box as jenni cut you off. "you know if you have a drink with me, i will not be a stranger anymore. didn't your mami also teach you about manners and hospitality?" jenni challenged making you scoff but smile.
"my plans for the evening just ditched me, i already started dinner. it is rude to make someone eat and drink alone you know!" jenni tutted, stepping forward and picking up the box for you before you could protest.
"vamos, i promise i am a good cook and an even better host."
~
and as you woke up that next morning in a bedroom both familiar and unfamiliar, you knew her words to be true.
you could smell coffee as you rubbed your eyes and sat up, you heard the door open and tugged the covers up to hide your naked chest, jenni strolling in with a steaming mug.
"how did you know?" you smiled, always starting your day with coffee as the taller girl gave you an add look. "how did i know i wanted coffee?" she chuckled taking a sip as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your assumption.
"what time is it?" you asked with a stretch, bending down and snaking your shirt from the floor, slipping it over your head. "eleven, you really slept in." jenni hummed, leaning against the doorframe as bright green eyes drunk you in.
"sorry." you chuckled, completely missing the slightly awkward silence in the air as jenni stepped forward. "your box of stuff is by the door, get dressed and you should go." the girl shrugged, turning on heel and heading out of the room as your mouth opened in shock.
none the less you hurried to collect your clothes, pulling them on and following after her.
"you know landlords should not really sleep with tenants." jenni tutted with a smirk, pulling herself up and onto the counter as you forced your eyes not to roam her half naked body, flashes of last night where it was pressed against you flickering through your mind.
you scoffed and crossed your arms, opening your mouth to let her have it but she spoke first. "whats wrong bebé? not the normal coffee and breakfast waiting for you afterwards that you are used to? i am not that type of girl." jenni chuckled sipping from her mug.
"but last night we talked about so many things and-" "had sex? sí, and we both got something out of that no? now you should really go, technically a landlord cannot be here without the tenants permission." jenni smirked as you could only scoff.
not gracing her with another word you turned on heel and headed for the front door, hearing her footsteps pad after you as you made a swift exit. you paused as you heard a sharp whistle, slowly turning around.
"did you just whistle at me like a dog?" you asked in disbelief crossing your arms and making her chuckle where she leaned against the door. "you forgot your box." she nodded downward at her feet as you stiffened, swallowing your pride and making your way back toward her.
you glared at her as she simply smiled charmingly, sipping at her coffee as you picked up the box and turned again, storming down the path.
though a second wind brewing as you reached the end you shook your head, spinning to give her a piece of your mind but it was too late, the front door already clicking closed as you heard the turn of the lock.
"puta."
#jenni hermoso#jenni hermoso x reader#woso community#woso#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs
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STILL IN LOVE! #5 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…
INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
It’s been an entire month since your argument with Toji. Neither of you had said a word to each other, not even when he comes to pick up or drop off the kids. He keeps his distance, not bothering to wait by the door with them, instead he waits on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to them when you open the door. It seems like the kids haven’t took notice of the hostility between you and your ex husband and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want them to witness anymore than they already have. Occasionally, Naya asks if she can go over Toji’s more often, growing an attachment to her father, but you always have to explain to her that he’s busy working during the week. It breaks your heart knowing that your children aren’t growing up with a fully family. You know deep down, they question why they have to go back and forth between houses just to see their father, or wondering why their mommy and daddy aren’t together like the other kids. But knowing how young they are, they wouldn’t understand a single thing. Hopefully when they’re older, they’ll learn from the mistakes you and Toji have made.
You and Nanami have been going strong recently, finding that he makes you forget about the hardships in your life. He hasn’t met the kids yet, which you don’t plan on letting happen anytime soon. He’s a nice guy, great intentions, but you want to take things slow before overstepping your own boundaries. He has took you out on two more dates ever since the first one, and each time he impresses you more and more. It feels like you can be open with him, comfortable without getting judged. He’s also a great listener, not saying a word and just letting you vent all of your feelings out until you feel better. He puts a smile on your face when he knows you’re feeling down or thinking about something that stresses you out. And most of all, he doesn’t mention what happened that morning when Toji showed up at your house. You know he heard most of everything and it was embarrassing to say the least. Toji embarrassed you.
“Mommy, can I go see daddy?” You daughter tapped your leg as you were cutting up her and megumi some fruit to snack on.
You looked down at her with a soft smile. “Tomorrow, baby. You’re gonna see him tomorrow.” You popped a raspberry in her mouth, her favorite fruit.
“Dad’s been drinking a lot.” Megumi walked into the kitchen, stealing a piece of pineapple off of the cutting board.
“What do you mean?” You immediately question, placing the knife down.
“Beer. He gets uncle Gojo to buy it for him and drinks a whole bunch,” he explained. Your lips pursed together, inhaling deeply before you let out a frustrated sigh. You shook your head in disappointment, trying not to show the anger flowing through you right now.
“So can we go see him? I’m worried!” You daughter batted her eyelashes at you, a small frown on her face. No wonder she’s been asking to see Toji so much, it all makes sense now.
“How about you guys call him to say goodnight, mommy isn’t driving right now. Plus, it’s late.” You picked up the knife, cutting more pineapple into smaller chunks.
“Please! Please! Please, mommy!” You daughter grabbed onto the hem of your shirt, nearly ripping it off of you with the way she was begging.
“Naya, cut it out! Mom said no!” Megumi slightly raised his voice, an annoyed look on his face.
“I wasn’t asking you, dummy!” Her brows furrowed in anger, her gaze now on her brothers.
“Shut up, idiot!” Megumi shouted back.
“Aye! Cut the shit!” You warned, sharing looks between both of them. Naya huffed, stomping her little feet over to the living room. “I don’t need you guys calling each other names, alright? Naya, I said no, and that means no. And Megs, stop being mean.”
“She called me it first!” He exclaimed.
“I don’t care who did it first! I don’t need y’all fighting. Naya, come here!” You shouted from the kitchen. “Eh, stay here.” You pointed at Megumi when he tried to walk away. He let out an annoyed sigh leaning against the counter. “Naya!” She turned the corner with a frown on her face, eyes watery as she looked up at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” As soon as you asked her that question she burst into tears. Before you could even place the knife down, Megumi picked her up and held her in his arms while she cried.
“Ny-ny, what’s wrong? I’m sorry I called you an idiot, okay? I was mad, but I shouldn’t have said that,” he said softly, rubbing her back as she cried on his shoulder. The little girl hiccuped softly, wrapping her arms around her brothers neck tightly. “Do you wanna tell mommy what’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her. He brought his hand up to her face, wiping the tears.
“Da…daddy!” She sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “I wanna see…daddy!” Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks as she laid her head back on her brothers shoulder. Megumi turned to look at you, and you could see that he was also worried about his father, even if he wasn’t as vocal as it. “Mommy!” She cried.
You reached your hands out, picking her up from Megumi and holding her to your chest. “You really wanna see daddy?” You asked, wiping off her tears with your shirt. She nodded, still whimpering and sniffling. She rubbed her puffy eyes, little fists holding onto the fabric of your shirt. “Okay, we’ll go see daddy then. Megs, put your shoes on.”
You held Naya’s hand as you walked up the steps with them. She had a little smile on her face, excited to all hell to see her father. Megumi rang the doorbell, waiting patiently with you in the cold. “You excited, huh?” You chuckled, looking down at your daughter.
“Who is it?” Toji’s deep voice spoke from the other side of the door.
“Dad, it’s us!” Megumi answered. You were a little nervous to see him, knowing that this was going to be an unexpected surprise, but you had a very valid reason for showing up here. Toji unlocked the door, confusion written all over his face when he seen you and his two kids standing outside in the cold. He barely had time to register the situation before Naya ran over to him and hugged him.
“Daddy!” She yelled followed by a giggle.
“Hey, peanut!” He picked her up like she weighed nothing, sitting her on his hip and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “What’re doing here so early, huh?” He asked with a smile.
“She’s been asking about you all day…all week actually,” you spoke. “She started crying cause she missed you so much, so I brought her over here,” you explained.
Naya fiddled with her dads lip scar, as Toji stood there and stared at you for a few minutes. It’s like he almost forgot how you sounded, it’s been so long. “Well, uh, would you like to come in or are you just dropping them off?” He asked, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, I’ll come in.” The only reason you accepted was because you wanted to speak to him about his drinking problem that Megumi suddenly brought up.
“Hi, buddy.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair, giving him a kiss on top of his head. He closed the door behind you, your eyes immediately taking notice of the four beer cans that sat on his coffee table. A rush of disappointment came washing over you as you continued to stare at them. “Don’t mind the mess,” he awkwardly chuckled, quickly trying to clean up as he sat Naya down on the couch.
You stuffed your hands in your coat pocket, standing in the middle of the living room as he grabbed the cans and quickly took them into the kitchen. “I told you,” Megumi whispered. Toji walked back into the living room, looking at you.
“So, uh, she was crying you said?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “she…she was like full on sobbing for you. Scared me shitless at first if I’m being honest.”
“Ny-ny, you can’t be scaring mommy like that.” Toji walked over, pinching her cheeks until she giggled. You watched the scene in front of you, seeing the smile on your daughter’s face when she was with Toji made your heart swell. “If you want, I can take them early, and come pick up their stuff tomorrow. You look…tired.”
You shrugged. “Just a little. It’s been a long week.” Toji nodded in agreement, standing back up right as all you stood there in silence while the two kids watched whatever was on the tv. “Toji, can I speak with you?”
“Yeah, yeah, what’s up?” He asked.
“In private.” You stared at him.
“Um, yeah. Megs, Ny, stay here, okay? Watch whatever you wanna watch.” He smiled at them.
“Megs, can we watch The Incredibles again?” Naya clung to her brothers arm as he grabbed the remote.
You followed Toji down the hallway to his bedroom. “How have you been?” You asked, shutting the door behind you.
“Me? I’ve been fine. How are you?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your eyes were locked onto him as you stood there by the door. Toji had a confused expression on his face. “Something wrong?”
“How have you been, Toji?” This time you asked with more sternly, clenching your jaw.
“I don’t get…I don’t get it.” He looked around the room as if he was being pranked, awkwardly rubbing his hands on his thighs.
“Megs told me about your drinking problem. You got Gojo going out and buying beer for you all the time? Getting drunk when the kids are here?! I can smell it on your breath!” You yelled in a whisper, folding your arms across your chest.
“I only drink enough to get tipsy, okay? I wouldn’t get drunk around the kids, y/n,” he sighed, holding his head in his hands.
You scoff, “like that makes it any better. Naya keeps asking about you because she’s worried, crying her eyes out because of it, because she misses you. Megumi doesn’t say a word about how he feels, but I can tell he’s scared, Toji. You had four beers on the fucking coffee table when I walked in!” You exclaimed, eyebrows raised.
“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m dealing with shit, y/n.” He rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor.
“We are all dealing with shit, Toji, but you gotta be there for our kids! I’m not here to argue with you, okay? I just want to know what is going on. The kids want to know what’s going on.” You looked at him with concern as he avoided your gaze completely, head still hung low.
“I can’t say it.” Toji looked up, finally locking eyes with you.
“Why?” You asked.
“Because it won’t matter, y/n. I’ve made mistakes, and I’m dealing with them. That’s all there is to it.” He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes.
Your expression softened. There was no need for Toji to explain what he was talking about because you already knew. He was talking about you guys, your relationship, your marriage, your family. “It wasn’t just you, Toji,” you spoke softly. “It was me too. We grew apart. It happens.”
He shook his head. “You were only acting that way because of how I was treating you. It’s not your fault so don’t say it was, please. I’m the one who fucked it up. Back then I fucked it up, and now I’m fucking it up. Every time I got something good going on I find a way to ruin it.”
“Toji…” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
He stood up from his spot on the bed and walked towards you, his muscular and tall frame trapping you against the door. “I’m sorry. I miss you, I miss what we had, mama. You gotta understand me.” He cupped your face in his hands.
“No, no, don’t do that.” You shook your head, removing his hands from you.
“Do what, mama?” He asked softly.
“That, Toji.” You kept shaking your head at him. “I can’t. We can’t.”
“Why not? Hm?” He tried to catch your eye.
“I’m with someone else,” you bluntly said. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, almost deafening in your ears as you stood there against the door. There was nothing but silence from Toji. He took a step back from you.
“Is it him?” Toji asked. All you did was nod. He scoffed. “So y’all are really together?”
“Yeah, we are,” you answered. “He treats me good, makes me happy.”
“So you don’t love me anymore?” Toji questioned.
“I didn’t say that!” You looked at him in disbelief.
“That’s not what you said the last time we spoke to each other. What you said fucking hurt me. You hate me. You wish you never married me. Remember that?” Toji cocked his head to the side.
“I was upset, Toji.” You rolled your eyes.
“You just don’t say shit like that, y/n. Never once in our entire relationship together have I said some shit like that to you.” He stood there, waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t.
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! I came here because Naya was worried about you and Megumi told me about your drinking problem. That’s all I came to talk about! I didn’t come to talk about what we had going on, okay? So just fucking drop it. I’m happier, I’m better. I’m getting treated the way I deserve to be treated for the first time in my life." You snapped.
“For the first time in your life? Are you hearing how you sound right now? I know I wasnt perfect, but I did everything I could to make you happy. Yes, there were some things I could’ve done better, but I loved you like you were supposed to be loved. Why else would I marry you?” Toji walked towards you again.
“Then you should’ve showed that love. Just know I’ll be better without you.” You opened the bedroom door, walking down the hallway.
“Y/n!” Toji shouted. He followed after you as you ignored him. “Y/n!” He shouted again.
“Stop following me, Toji! I’m leaving!” You screamed.
Megumi and Naya looked over at both of you, seeing you two yelling. “I’m not done talking to you!” Toji grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.
“Well, I am!” You snatched your arm back from him.
“Stop it!” Megumi yelled, covering his little sisters ears.
You and Toji looked over at the kids sitting on the couch, Naya’s eyes watery, lip wobbly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Megumi shared looks between both of you, concern and fear written on his face. “Come on, let’s go back home. You’ll see daddy tomorrow.”
“I wanna stay!” Naya pouted.
“Naya, please, get in the car.” You sighed in frustration, grabbing her hand.
“No! No!” She started screaming, dropping to the floor and kicking around, throwing a tantrum.
“Get up, Naya! I’m not gonna ask you again!” You lifted her off of the floor, grabbing her hand again. She pulled away from you, running over to Toji, hugging his legs.
“Fine. Fine. Stay with your father. I’ll see both of you in a few days. I love you.” You grabbed your keys from your coat pocket, walking to the front door, slamming it shut behind you.
“Come here, baby girl.” Toji picked his daughter up.
“You two always fight! I hate it!” Megumi stormed out of the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, making Naya jump. Toji stood there in the living room with his daughter, a lump forming in his throat. He let out a choked sob, immediately hiding his face from his daughter.
“Daddy, don’t cry.” She wiped his tears away.
“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He sniffled. Your family was falling apart right in front of Toji’s eyes. Megumi is looking for a way out of this family at such a young age, indulging in video games and tv to drown out the real problems. Naya conflicted with her feelings, crying constantly because of the state both of you were in, affecting her. Nothing is like it was before. Toji hated this was happening. This is was last thing he ever wanted.
You sat in your car outside of his house, wiping your tears from how overwhelmed you were. You were at a loss on how to fix this. Each time you tried, it ended the same. You were fearful it was going to keep getting worse, worse until there was no way to reverse the damage done.
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The team learns about Peter's stress baking fairly quickly after he moves into the tower.
"Why does this place smell like cookies?" Tony asks suspiciously, "Pepper put an end to homemade care packages after that Cap incident."
Steve protests from the dining table. "Hey, that fan seemed totally normal. Y'know in my generation you do not mess with baked goods, that's sacred."
Natasha pats his back comfortingly as she joins the conversation.
"They came from the kid. They're actually pretty good, here."
Nat hands a still-warm cookie to Tony, who bites it curiously.
"Damn, it melts in my mouth like buttery ambrosia and still has a perfect crunch around the edges. Is that a nutty aftertaste?"
"Yes!" Peter yells from the other room, a clatter sounding before his head pokes around the wall, oven mitts still attached to his hands.
"I brown the butter, it really deepens the flavour!"
"Good on you kid. What's the occasion?"
Peter stutters, "uhhhh, no occasion. I just like cookies!"
He disappears around the corner again, and Tony sends a confused glance towards his teammates.
Steve shrugs his shoulders, mouth still full of cookie, and Natasha sends him an arched brow. Tony isn't sure what that means, but feels intimidated enough to exit the room anyway.
* * *
The baking lasts the rest of the week, until Peter comes home yelling, "I aced my calculus midterm!!!" running out of the elevator with a stapled set of papers in his hand.
"So no more baking?" Nat asks neutrally.
"Nope! Woohoo!"
Just like that the kid is gone, jumping down the hall towards his bedroom.
Tony looks at Nat quizzically.
"It was midterm week. He baked 3 dozen cookies, 2 types of muffins, and a cheesecake."
"So he stress bakes?"
"He stress bakes."
* * *
It becomes a "thing" in the tower.
Sam eats toast from freshly baked bread one morning while watching Bruce quiz Peter on his upcoming AP history test. Each slice is cut, toasted, and buttered to perfection by Peter while he explains sectionalism in the 20th century.
* * *
Bucky grates carrots while Peter mixes a bowl of dry ingredients furiously, the boy mumbling to himself non-stop.
"Has he gone insane?" Clint asks from the doorway.
"Spanish oral exam," Bucky replies.
"Ay caramba."
"Tal vez pueda sobornar a mi maestra con glaseado de queso crema..." Peter starts mumbling. (Maybe I can bribe my teacher with cream cheese frosting...)
Bucky and Clint share a concerned look.
Clint approaches the boy, "put down the spatula Pete, let's talk about this."
Peter looks up in alarm.
"In English! Just English!"
* * *
"What's up kid? It's spring break, what could you possibly be stressing about."
Today Tony walks into a full kitchen; Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper are occupying the space while Peter pours something creamy into a metal bowl.
"He's asking MJ out tonight, so he's making cookies and cream ice cream in case it goes wrong." Natasha crosses her arms when she replies to him, eyes focused on Peter's mixing.
"Does ice cream even count as stress baking? The very meaning of 'bake' is to put under heat. But I suppose it does feel wrong to call it cooking."
Peter looks up, his brown eyes large and sad like a baby cow, "I still baked the cookies from scratch."
"Yeah he's a real Nara Smith!" Wanda adds enthusiastically.
"Oookay... I'll pretend I know what that means. And since when do we have an ice cream maker?" Tony points to the fancy hardware out on the kitchen counter.
"Oh, I got that for him. We lacked a lot of the tools for basic baking recipes," Pepper informs him.
Tony ponders how ice cream machines count as a basic baking tool, and decides not to argue with three powerful women and their favourite lovesick teenager.
Peter picks up his bowl and moves it into the freezer, clearing away a couple frozen pizzas and a bag of peas.
"Should I even bother with the cones?" Peter asks with a pout.
"Pete she's gonna say yes! Also if you're wallowing in misery with a tub of ice cream we still want our cones so we can emotionally support you with a crunchy treat," Wanda says with a supportive smile.
The others nod along.
"You're right!" Peter agrees before turning around and grabbing an honest-to-god waffle cone maker, with the cone shaping kit to boot.
"Why..." Tony begins to protest, "y'know what, I don't care. Let me know how it goes kid."
The man is ignored as he moves through the kitchen to grab a banana, the women coaching Peter on his manners, flirting, and first date ideas as he exits the room.
* * *
Thor hums around the delicious treat.
"Mmm. You know young Peter, you could have a shop for your creations. Is there a Stark Industries for baked goods?" Thor asks the young lad, crumbs falling from his mouth as he chews the cookie bar.
"I didn't invent the blondie Thor. I was just trying to explain what it is, a cookie brownie! I did decorate them all by myself though," he says with a satisfied grin.
"Ah yes," Thor lifts up another blondie by the pretzel stick Peter put in the squares, attached with a bit of melted chocolate so they're shaped like Mjolnir, "now you are all worthy of the hammer. Ha! This is funny, I'm sure the others will find your talents equally amusing."
Peter picks up his own mini-Mjolnjr and waves it around, "it is I, son of Odin. Don't worry puny Midgardians, I will protect you with my mighty hammer and beautiful hair!"
Thor laughs thunderously at the impression, clapping.
Bruce walks into the room, enticed by the laughter.
"Ah! My friend, Peter has made edible Mjolnirs so you, too, may be worthy. It's delicious and hilarious. Imagine Banner wielding my hammer, ha! Ridiculous," Thor is all too amused by the situation.
Bruce gives Peter an offended look as Thor continues laughing with himself, the younger just shrugging. Bruce takes one of the treats anyways, pointedly not holding it by the pretzel stick.
"Y'know Pete, have you ever considered opening a bakery? You are quite talented. I think the Avengers alone would keep you in business," Bruce asks politely.
"Well I only like to bake when I'm stressed. That wouldn't be a very stable business model," Peter points out.
"True. Although running a business can be quite stressful, so maybe you'd have a continuous supply?"
"Hm. Efficient and unhealthy," Peter nods like it's the perfect plan.
"Wow you really are Stark's intern."
Thor bursts out into another bout of raucous laughter.
"Imagine Stark wielding my dessert hammer," Thor barely gets the words out, "Stark being worthy-AH HAHA."
Bruce and Peter share a look of wide-eyed alarm before joining in on the laughter.
They all share the moment before Bruce straightens up a bit to ask, "what are you even worried about anyways Peter?"
Peter wipes a tear from his eye, "I forgot to call Aunt May this morning like I always do and she only let me move here if I promised I wouldn't neglect her. So now I'm too scared to check my phone."
"I see," Bruce sympathizes.
"Yeah, baking is good for procrastinating. I pretend I'm being productive while also creating comfort food for after my breakdowns."
* * *
Tony steps into the dining room one afternoon to find Peter slicing apples while Steve sits across from him cutting intricate patterns into pie crust. There is an array of leaves and flowers set out on the flour-sprinkled table.
"So is the ornamentation necessary, or is Cap also developing a delicious self-soothing habit," Tony inquires.
"I was just talking to Peter about pie recipes from the 40s and he asked if I could help make his prettier," Steve smiles up at his companions, "it's actually a lot of fun, I can't say I've ever used food to make art before."
"He's a natural talent Mr. Stark!"
Tony agrees with the quirk of an eyebrow and cheeky sideways nod. He observes for a moment before asking something that's been bothering him recently.
"Pete, I gotta ask. Why baking? You inherited your Aunt's terrible cooking skills, and it's not like you're built for other domestic duties. Your room is a mess. What gives? How are you so... refined?"
Peter pauses his chopping to look up incredulously.
"It's science Mr. Stark. Baking is just chemistry! I'm great at chemistry," he says with a grin.
Tony thinks about it.
"Huh. I guess you're right. So, what has you stressed this time? Girl troubles? You get too good a grade in P.E. and Flash is suspicious? Decathlon competition?" Tony lists off some of his previous turmoils.
He hopes it's the decathalon again, those butter tarts were divine.
"Um. Can I finish my apple filling before I tell you? I'll lose motivation if you start yelling at me..." Peter says with a hopeful smile, strain lying underneath it.
Tony's eyes narrow.
"Okay so I maybe blew up your test tubes when trying to develop fire webs and Dum-E may have covered your entire lab in fire supression foam."
Tony's jaw clenches, "I'm gonna let you stew in fear for a bit longer because apple is my favourite - if this was pumpkin you'd already be squashed - but best believe I'm not done with you yet." Tony slowly takes a deep breath before pointing a finger at Peter. "Never change kid, never change."
Tony leaves, distinctly in the opposite direction of his lab, and Peter goes back to slicing apples, now with a genuine smile on his face.
#peter parker#marvel mcu#irondad and spiderson#the avengers#tony stark#spider man#avengers#canon is dead I only know happy found family Stark tower fanfiction#mcu#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#bruce banner#clint barton#thor odinson#pepper potts#wanda maximoff#bucky barnes#sam wilson#peter parker fluff
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"Got crumbs on your face."
"Huh?" Cheeks puffed up and round much like a chipmunks, you do a small doubletake, a little too distracted with stuffing your face full of ube pandesal, consequently not even bothering with manners and struggle to speak through your full mouth. "Wah?"
"Fuckin'... Swallow your food before you choke, Tweety."
Holding up a finger to indicate a moment to do just that, you force the half chewed chunks of bread to go down your throat. It's actually impressive you didn't choke like last time you attempted swallowing chunks of barely bitten food.
You turn to him again, looking at the man next to you, but sideeye the half-eaten food on his plate. Usually he's finished by now. Hm. Maybe he'll let you have some.
You clear your throat. "What?"
"Crumbs." He taps his cheek to mirror where it's on yours. "Right 'ere."
Oh. Is that all?
Your tongue darts out to lick it off the way you usually take care of stray food particles on your face. Stretching your tongue as much as you can, you think you get it, tasting a ghost of the ube. Giving yourself a few more licks in that same area, you hold in a hum at the lingering taste and bring your tongue back in your mouth. Yummy.
His fist clenches, but you don't take note of the way his pupils dilate or the clink of his teeth gnashing together, nor do you notice how he sits up so straight he could only be described as rigid, and neither do you see his eyes following the tease of your tongue. You should have. Alas, you're a bit of an oblivious fool.
You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him. "That all of it?"
He heaves, and you're not sure why he sounds so exasperated.
"Bloody hell, Tweety..."
"What? Did I not get it?"
"No, fuck, lemme just- "
He trails off, taking the liberty to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head to the side so he has a better angle. You don't flinch away, though, letting him puppet you this way and that.
It happens at a normal speed, yet somehow time feels slow. Or maybe that's just your reaction time. Perhaps both.
Instead of picking up a napkin like you expect, he closes in on you as if you're the prey that just gave him an opening to strike. In fact, you almost expect to feel a bite encapsulate your throat, for teeth to sink into tender skin, so you close your eyes in preparation for- something.
Really, you should have seen it coming.
Your eyes shoot open at the wet glide of his tongue laving over your cheek. It's not a small kitten lick either, it's a messy one, similar to a dog with no sense of boundaries. You try to pull away for a brief moment- more out of shock and less out of disgust- but he doesn't let you go, pinching your chin harder and jerking you closer. You're barely able to stifle the whine that claws up your throat but concede to letting him leave a trail of slobber over your cheek and dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.
You're tempted to lick back with each swipe to the edge of your lips, but you hold yourself back. Unlike him, you have some decency. Well. You like to think so, even if you're nearly panting like a dog in heat in the middle of the mess hall. At least no one is here. You think. Hope. You really, really hope no one's here to call out the public indecency you're both displaying.
Shakily, you reach up to tap his wrist, the one that's attached to the hand that's going to bruise your chin if he doesn't let go. Not that you'd mind. But still. You try to pull away.
"Uh, I think you got it-"
You're cut off with a yelp and a jerk, whole body nearly toppling over his from how hard he yanks you back. He glares at you when you steady yourself, hand on his knee and eyes blown wide from the intense look he gives you.
Chest rumbling, he growls- an honest to God, literal growl that shouldn't make your stomach flutter like it does- and shakes your head a little as if to admonish you.
"Wasn't done tasting yet."
"But you-"
"C'mon."
He stands from the table and forcefully manhandles you up with him, leaving your trays on the table as he pulls you along by the wrist, long strides almost bordering as a jog. Fuck, it's like he's impatient or something.
"Wait-" you look back at the unfinished food, free hand half-heartedly groping back at it as you stumble along. "What about our food? We haven't- I'm still- who's gonna clean it?"
Shooting you an irritated look over his shoulder as if to say shut up, he tightens his grip and yanks you along in the direction of his room.
"Not my problem. There's something else I'd rather eat instead."
•••
Wanted it to be Soap, but was picturing Ghost, could be any of the 141, though. I like to think Tweety's shared by all of them. Not quite in a barrack's bunny kinda way, but yeah, also in that way, although I picture Tweety to be oblivious and encounters like this frequently sometimes borders on dubcon.
#john soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#captain john price x reader#soap x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soapy thoughts :]#simon riley x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john price x reader#ghost x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#f!reader#mature themes#afab reader#141 sweet treat <3
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Really enjoyed your headcanons on Caeser and Proximus, do you mind doing the same with Noa?? 😊🙏
[Noa and day to day life with him!] [Headcanons!]
Summary: Noa takes you back with him to his home, and the clan accepts you as one of them. Even if you're concerned otherwise.
Word count: 1k (Jesus christ)
Warnings: None that I can think of! Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! You and Noa are attached to one another. (Yes, this is me projecting.)
A/N: Noa is so near and dear to me, I literally did not mean for this to be so long, and I STILL cut myself off. This is 1k words worth of headcanons for him, and it is not enough. I'm Noa's #1 fan, I am sorry to all my friends and family who have to hear me talk about him constantly.. Ask me for Noa anything, and I will give you the world.
Do me a favor and strap the fuck in for this it's alot.
I am so glad someone asked about Noa bc I got ALOT to say.
Noa has had it with humans, Mae put him, his clan, and countless others at risk, he should not trust humans, really he shouldn't, but he can't help it. She also betrayed you in the process, and now you're alone.
You agreed to help him and Mae against Proximus, you're the only one who actively goes up against Proximus as well.
Swinging and trying your best to try and get Proximus off of Noa, yelling and crying while the other apes just stare in fear. (Later on they apologize, but you don't hold it against them.)
It's a huge risk to invite a human with them again, but then he remembers Rakas words, Caesars words, and decides he can't told another's decisions over you.
So when he gently grabs your hand in his, looking down at you with a strained smile, blood seeping from his lips, you follow, back to his clans land.
Now on to the good stuff, it's kinda awkward finding your place among the eagle clan, the elders are gone, his father Koro is gone, there really is no guidance as to where to place you.
You drift mostly, either helping Dar or helping with the young ones, teaching them how to read and write, helping fish, farm, the basic tasks.
Dar loves you by the way, doting on you and making sure no one messes with you in a harmful way. She teaches you their customs and traditions, all the while playfully teasing you about Noa. She's a mom, she knows.
You're happy with your work, happy with your place among the clan. It's genuinely shocking how much they were willing to forgive and to not hold any grudges against humans after one ruined everything.
It helps that Noa takes accountability for you, somehow so trusting that you will not cause harm. His faith in you speaks volumes and you remind him everyday that it won't go to waste.
All he does is send you a sweet smile and ruffles your hair.
You find yourself helping Noa alot with crafting new tools and contraptions, being a second pair of eyes that can catch onto things he can't.
"Very smart." "Thank yo-" "For an Echo." and he does that stupid cute little sniff afterwards and it makes it tremendously hard to hit him.
He's such a little shit I fucking hate him.
You're his shadow when his duties permit, he's taken on a higher role of the clan, sometimes going out for days at a time but you're always at the edge of the Village waiting for his return, anxiously working your bottom lip until you see him in view.
You're both extremely attached to one another, Soona and Anaya become attached to you too, dragging you along in everyone's free time to go climbing, to eat, to hunt, just about any group outing has you as their fourth member.
Noa was worried about them accepting you, but they love you just as much as he does.
It makes his heart swell when he sees you and Soona together, giggling about something surely only you both understand while Anaya groans and complains about being left out.
It's like you've always been meant to be with them, to round out their group.
Soona and Anaya will offer to be the one to carry you this time, they do want to, genuinely, but Noa won't let them 99.9% of the time, He's used to your weight, he trusts that he can keep you safe the best. (Says the ape that literally almost died multiple times doing stupid shit)
"Noa worries too much, they will be fine." "Anaya is clumsy. Can't trust you to carry yourself, much less echo."
He tries not to carry you everywhere, but it is so much more convenient than waiting for you, so he scoops you up often enough that the stares don't bother you anymore.
Remember how in the movie, all the apes sleep together communally? Well you're at first extremely nervous about that, not wanting to ask what exactly are your accommodations because surely they don't want you there with them.
Actually, Noa does, so jot that down.
When you shyly move away, he raises his palm up at you, nodding to the space besides him.
When you don't move, he gently tugs you down, laying on his back and shutting his eyes. The clan hasn't really fully rebuilt and started to gather things needed for shawls and coverings, so it's not strange to him that you cuddle up to him to steal his warmth, peeking an eye open to see your face squished into his side, knocked out.
He wraps an arm around you, incasing you in more warmth.
This is a nightly routine until you finally take it upon yourself to throw yourself on him, he chokes out a breath as you make yourself comfortable.
Soona and Anaya usually join in, he cannot fucking breathe but he's so happy that it outweighs it.
When Mae inevitably shows back up, she sees you out in the distance, you look so genuine happy, so at peace with where you are. You even have some eagle feathers in your hair, integrated into their life that it shocks her.
It's enough to make her put the gun away, grasping at Rakas necklace like a lifeline, sucking in a deep breath to stop her from crying.
Maybe apes and humans can live at peace with one another after all. She hopes you prove her wrong.
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!
#feel free to ask me for more noa hcs! (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE)#teddy asks ♧#planet of the apes x reader#planet of the apes#kingdom of the planet of the apes#kotpota#pota#Noa#Planet of the apes Noa x reader#Noa x reader#teddy loves apes ☆
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omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!
—Don't Look At Her
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞
"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"
"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.
The bomb.
"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."
It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.
Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.
"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"
"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"
The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.
How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.
"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.
There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.
Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."
You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."
Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.
"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."
Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.
"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.
50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...
"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."
Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.
"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.
"Gaz—"
"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.
Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.
Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.
Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.
Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.
It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.
He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.
"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."
"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."
12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...
You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.
His smile.
Oh, you want to see your Love smile.
"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"
Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.
"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.
"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"
"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"
The beeping stops and the world stills.
Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.
Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.
Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.
Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.
Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.
With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.
TAGS:
@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast
#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#cod mw22#call of duty#mw2#mw2 2022#x female reader#call of duty x you#cod gaz#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#cod x female reader#drabble#5k celebration
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golden rule
lucy maclean x gn!reader
summary: you become lucy's only friend in wasteland.
warnings: weapon usage/mentions, brief blood mention, wasteland and life outside the vault, lucy is naive and oblivious at first and a hot mess later, mostly just fluff, golden retriever lucy & black cat reader type of shit, kinda enemies/strangers to secret in lover with each other, reader is hot i wanna date them but also a loser if you see through them, no nsfw, not proofread
"just give it a thought, alright? we could help each other."
"why would i want you for a company? no offense, princess, but i don't associate with vault dwellers." you take a look at her from head to toes, studying the details in her jumper. despite how cool her pistol looked attached to her belt like that, the yellow and blue choice was kind of goofy, you thought.
you can see the excitement in her eyes disappearing as she hears you and you almost felt sorry for her. almost. "okay, ouch." she tilts her head, crossing her arms. in a second, her dramatic act gave place to a smug smile. "oh, i know! what if i help you to find the head?"
even your own bitterness left your soul as you hear her. you pause for a moment, searching for any sign of unseriousness in her face. maybe it was just a bad joke? but then, she keeps staring at you with those huge eyes and a not so subtle smile, proud of what she had said.
"i'm sorry, a head? you mean someone's head?" you frown. "i don't know what you vault people think of us but i'm not a monster." you weren't really offended, but seeing the panic in her face was actually princeless.
"what? no, no! i was just- everyone wants that head and i thought you-" she starts to ramble, not wanting to offend you. her beam went away as fast as it reached her face. you almost felt bad for her twice in a row now.
you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and allowed a smirk to creep onto your lips. she immediately stopped talking and, even though she exhaled relief, you knew that deep down she wanted to kill you but was too kind for that.
"oh. you were messing with me. funny." she gives you a forced dry laugh. it was actually annoying how she tried to be so nice all the time.
as a response, you give her a nonchalant wry smile. "anyway. i'm not looking for a dog right now, so..." you sigh, reaching for the heavy backpack on the floor and sliding it onto your shoulders. "but good luck with the head or whatever it means." you wink at the stranger and turn around to leave.
"wait! please." she grabs your wrist before you could take the first step and in response, you turn around again impatiently, glancing down at her tight grip on your skin. it takes her a while to realize that she's still holding you but as soon as she does, she immediately looks at your wrist as well and let go of it. "sorry." she whispers.
you were ready to interrupt her but, curiously, you felt bad when seeing how insanely desperate she was. it wouldn't hurt to just hear what the had to say, right?
"i've been having a rough week, okay? everyone i've met tried to kill me, except for you. a weird..." she pauses, thinking "robot, or whatever, tried to harvest my organs out and i had to cut someone's head off. and i may not be the strongest or the most experienced person but i can learn!" she was truly putting on her best show while you stood in front of her completely unbothered. at least, you liked to think that you were a complete fearless and tough person. "just... please?"
against all odds, you didn't deny it immediately. and, if you didn't deny it immediately, you knew what it meant. fuck, when did you become such a softie? it could be, of course, the way her hair looked pretty even in a messy ponytail or how the cut on her lip made her look so incredibly ho-
"okay, fine. whatever." that idiot creepy huge smile of hers spread on her face again before you could even finish. "listen up, i'm not done." you roll your eyes. "we'll do things my way, get it? you speak when i speak, you shoot when i shoot, you walk when i walk." you take steps closer to her while you talk. firm, hoarse and assertive tone. you stop when you feel the tip of her nose almost touching yours, keeping the steady the eye contact intact. you were so busy initimidating her that you don't even notice when she hold her breath.
"you are my shadow." you reach up for her face, cupping her chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at you. "you don't exist unless i tell you to. do you understand me?" you stated with a piercing gaze.
you thought it was impossible for her eyes to get any bigger but when you step out of your scary platform, you notice her terrified expression. "okey dokey..." she nods frantically.
you gotta admit it. she didn't seem as goofy as before while paying attention to you so devotedly like that. even when still wearing that ridiculous jumper.
eventually, you realize that your eyes were betraying you by staring at her for a little too long. you clean your throat, trying to cover that up. "good. let's go now. we can't stay here forever." you step back and start to walk away, not even waiting for her to join you.
you hear her hasty footsteps getting closer as she tries to catch up to you until she finally shares your pace. "i'm lucy, by the way. lucy maclean." she held her head high, corners of her mouth going up again. god, she smiled a lot.
"good for you. i'm still gonna call you princess, though."
"not to brag, cause that would be impolite of me, but i found a really cool place when i was looking for a river this morning." lucy's smiling from ear to ear and excitedly rocking from side to side is the first thing you see when you open your eyes after a tough night of sleep.
a week had passed since you met lucy. no matter how tough you considered yourself to be, lucy was persistent, charming, sweet and funny enough to make her way to your heart and you knew that you were doomed. deep down, you were suspicious that she knew that as well.
"why are you always so happy?" you groan, rubbing your eyes. unlike lucy, you were not a morning person. or a night person. or any time of the day person.
"good morning to you too, sunshine!"
you are forced to get up, not being actually opposed to it, and take a short sip from your last water bottle. maybe taking a look at lucy's oh so great place would be useful.
"okay then. let's do it, princess." you use your hands to brush the remains of sand and dust out of your pants but lucy's cute giggle prevents you from heading out of the shelter you had found.
lucy approaches you with her usual polite and sweet grin and you unconsciously flinch as she stops just a few inches from you and touch you. predictable, she was gentle while brushing the top of your hair with her fingers, fixing the bundle of messy strands that merged together while you were sleeping and added a funny volume to your head. you follow every move of her with darting eyes and an uncontrollable urge to admire her green eyes focused on your hair and reddish parted lips.
"there you go. pretty as always." lucy coos and before withdrawing herself, her fingers slid down by a few inches and casually tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. for the first time in ages, you froze.
thankfully, lucy didn't seem to notice how affected you were by her innocent act. "thanks." you whispered in a ridiculously soft grin and followed her out of the shelter.
"why do you have a gun if you don't like using it? that's stupid." you tease lucy while you two walked side by side, following the train track to the place she had mentioned.
"i do use it. just when i have no other option. you know, because of the golden rule." she shrugs, proudly, proceeding to explain it to you.
you really tried to not care or call it dumb, but instead, you snorted in amusement. "you are way too naive, you know that?"
a dilapidated house.
lucy's incredible and cool place was nothing but a whole junk. everything was falling apart and, judging by how empty it was, many others were there before you.
"it looked cool from the outside..." she explains herself while scratching the back of her neck.
you were strong. firm. scary and ruthless even. you would shove a knife on anybody's throat if they wasted your time like that, especially after a terrible night of sleep. but, again, it wasn't anybody. it was her.
so, funny or not, you laughed.
"god, you are such a terrible explorer." you take a quick peek at her with the corner of your eyes, wearing an idiotic and foolish smirk on your lips.
"i am not!" her jaw drops and her voice sounds whinier as she defends herself but giggle along with you, not feeling scared to be vulnerable and fully stare at you.
you didn't have to answer to that. all you did was look back and forth at her and the house, proving your point.
"okay, you got me there." she looks down, dramatically pouting and pretending to feel so insulted. "but at least i made you smile. looks good on you." lucy's lips twitch in a shy grin.
"maybe i should smile more, then. if you like it." you boldly murmur, surprised at yourself for saying that. you could swear that lucy's face got almost entirely red but you didn't have enough time to appreciate it or figure if it was real.
"look at those cute lovebirds. love has returned to wasteland, gentlemen." a tall, sturdy middle-aged man mocks you to two other creepy looking guys. one was even missing an eye. in two seconds, you were able to count how many weapons they had and your first thought was the possibility of lucy getting hurt.
you quickly stood in front of her, shielding her from any kind of possible danger.
everthing happened too fast after that. all you remember is denying their offer to take your backpacks with the remains of food and water you had and all of your weapons.
everything went black for a second as your body hit the ground. you slowly manage to get on your knees and look around but lucy isn't there and you are trapped. you feel a sharp pain as you breathe in and a drop of blood hits your pants. you shudder at the moment you cautiously feel your cheek, warm to the touch and stinging like you were poked by a thousand needles. your fingertips carefully drop to your mouth and you hiss as you touch the wide cut on your swollen lower lip.
you notice the crisp click of the gun's trigger being released and you look up, expecting to see the weapon pointed at your head. instead, you see the men with their hands above their heads.
"get away from them!" lucy's voice fills your ears and you turn your head back to find her with a huge weapon in hands pointed at the strangers. she takes a quick glance at you and you see the anger inside her overflow as she notices your wounds.
"i'm gonna count to three and i want your ugly, filthy and miserable roaches out of my face or... or i'll shoot!" judging by her tone, you can easily notice how nervous she is even though she's trying her best to actually stand up for you.
and the thought of being protected by someone made your heart flutter. you weren't bothered by the aching pain in your lip when you found yourself proudly smiling at her.
the big guy seemed to notice the tension in her voice and took a step closer to you. you could only imagine how badly he had regretted that as soon as a loud bang echoed through the entire house and his foot was hanging by a thread, quite too literally.
"oh, golly..." lucy mutters with widen eyes. you follow her shock with a gasp that was completely muffled by the loud and agonized screech.
"don't make me repeat myself! all of you out, now!" she yells, threatening them by aiming the gun at them once more. "if that's okay with you, please." the scary expression in her face swiftly changed to a well-mannered and soft grin.
the injured men is rushedly dragged out by the other two, not looking back and you can not believe that someone as adorable looking as lucy was the one to broke her dear rule and hurt people.
"thank you! t-take care." she waves at them innocently, still with the gun in hands before running to you.
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