#these girls are my tradition but i’m running out of ideas

[come-along-pond]

OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2024. day thirty - october 30th. GROUP COSTUME.

The BAU girls (ft Amelia Rowe) as Birds of Prey members

Amelia Rowe is Harley Quinn

Penelope Garcia is Poison Ivy

Emily Prentiss is Catwoman

Jennifer Jareau is Black Canary

Show us what costumes your oc and their friend group would coordinate. Are they the Scooby Gang? The Wiggles? Mario Party Characters?

taglist: @arrthurpendragon @bravelittleflower @ginger-grimm @dancingsunflowers-ocs @foxesandmagic

@shrinkthisviolet @wordspin-shares @oneirataxia-girl - Send an ask/message if you wish to be added or removed!

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[bruciemilf]

I know this is a DC blog but I NEED dad Logan. Get that murder teddy bear some kids ASAP.

Fancast + non canon Headcanons ahead.

BOBBY MY BELOVED / 16

“Sure everything in my life is terrible. But at LEAST I’m gay”

Makes pop culture references Logan doesn’t understand. “Logan threw the first brick at stonewall” “what are you SAYING” “he’s an ally”

Can, will, and has gaslight Logan into thinking he’s homophobic just for not letting Bobby do what he wants

Stole a beer from Logan once and they found him drunk crying at 3 am. He calls Logan to apologize about it. “I’m sO sorryyy. You know I love you??” “Go to bed” “noOoo” Logan is next to him.

Has a secret YouTube channel and everyone watches for Logan interactions specifically

Mabel Pines coded

KITTY… that’s his half pint your honor. / 17

Logan is terrified. Why are you such an easy kid. Why aren’t you rebelling? Why isn’t defiance bleeding on your fists?

Why aren’t you clawing and biting and snarling for your freedom? Why aren’t you being a kid? Who do I have to skin-

Daughters are not supposed to exist quietly.

I hc that Kitty’s family is extremely unsupportive of her being a mutant, — but they’re just traditional in general. Specifically she’s petrified of being around/existing along men.

Certified babysitter when Logan’s not around. She’s so big sister.

“guys!1!11!!!! mr. Logan said not to do that!1!1!1”

Logan BEGS her to be a shitty teenager for like 10 minutes. Be bratty!!! Tell him to fuck off! Throw a tantrum!!!! “But I’m not a kid.” “You’re MY kid.”

JUBILEEE daddy’s girl / 15

Problem Child TM

Plays Rock n Roll by Avril Lavigne at 4 am to piss Logan and her siblings off when they annoy her

Grounded all the time but if she fake cries Logan will shamefully relent.

Always puts Logan’s patience to the test because she anticipates him leaving/giving up on her

Foster child with issues. She spent half her life looking for people and the other half being abandoned by them. This won’t be any different.

Except Logan is very good at fighting destiny.

Your honor I don’t CARE Logan is made to be a girl dad!!!!

“On the spectrum. Not saying which one”

STRONG she/they energy

Most affectionate with Logan out of all the kiddos. Her love language is terrible pancake making (Logan eats them anyway) and cat cuddling.

ADHD icon

LAURA (murder baby) / 7

Brings dead birds/mice to her family members (affectionate)

Charles has the bright idea to enroll her in school with the kids. “It’s important for children to socialize with peers their own ages.” “Can’t socialize if they’re all DEAD.”

That meme of the little boy and his father with an arrow in his shoulder

Youngest child privilege

Steals Bobby’s phone and shoot’s hilariously off angle family vlogs. One of them includes her stealing Logan’s motorcycle while he runs after her

[sinofwriting]

Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)

Masterlist | Support Me!

At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.

Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.

It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.

—

Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.

“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.

“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.

Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.

“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”

—

“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.

“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”

“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.

Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.

Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.

“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.

“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.

“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”

Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.

“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.

@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67

[sscieloz]

Late night halloween interruptions

Yoo Jimin x Producer!reader

Synopsis: being one of Aespa’s main producers and songwriters meant having to work restlessly to deliver the best track of the year— even if it meant sacrificing a Halloween night out. however, focusing on work turns out to be rather difficult when a certain blonde idol keeps distracting you from your goals.

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: you better wish I have a great fckn test thursday and friday. plus I didn’t proofread it and I WILL NOT. I still stuck at writing smut and I’m angry. also happy early halloween <3 blonderina lives forever in my mind and now in yours, too. ps: this was originally dom!reader but I changed my mind so it’s just a mess.

You were busy with the computer in front of you when you heard the click of the door, despite your heavy headphones. The soft, almost unnoticeable sound made you turn your chair to face the stranger who disturbed your work and dared to annoy you long after your work hours, late at night at the firm.

It wasn’t a total stranger, though. Staring back at you was Yoo Jimin, looking as angelic as always with her plump, rosy lips and porcelain skin. She had a sneaky smile on her face, tracing your desk with her featherlight fingers as she looked for any signs of dust.

“What do you want, Karina?” Your words came out harsh, unlike you intended to, but you still didn’t apologize. You could feel the tiredness wearing down your bones, the disturbance reminding you of the reason you were up so late in one of the company’s many music studios in the first place: so you wouldn’t be bothered at all.

Yet, she found you. You didn’t expect any less, with Karina hunting you down ever since she first laid her eyes on you, the day you were announced as one of the songwriters and record producers for the group’s latest comeback. Being only four years older, your lack of age made it easy to bond with all the girls: it gave them confidence to join in the making of their songs, too, getting deeply involved in the whole process of their comeback. The four band members trusted you and loved having you around, confiding their feelings and running to you whenever they felt bad or insecure. They all looked up to you— you knew it as much, and because of that, you were always pushing yourself to be the best, hardworking version of yourself you could.

Which was why you were always making sure to listen to their wishes and give them feedbacks on their ideas, so they’d grow as idols and song producers. You might not be as old in age as most of the producers in the industry, but you’ve already had your handful of successful collabs with well-known artists who did nothing but essentially praise you: you were skilled, and knew what you were doing, so it was only natural you exchanged some of your experiences with the girls.

Nonetheless, said closeness allowed the blonde girl to often stare at you like you were the only possible prey for a wolf who’s never eaten in its entire existence. Provocative dances, gifting your coffee orders each morning, stupid questions that kept you busy with her for hours, when you should be working… She certainly made your life difficult, toying with you while you tried as hard as you could not to indulge the idol. It was forbidden for employees to hook up with the company’s celebrities, after all, and you couldn’t risk losing your job.

“Good night to you, too, Y/n.” She greeted you, eyes darting around the place attentively. To make sure you were alone, most certainly. Jimin’s eyes lit up when her assumptions turned out right, happy to see you weren’t hiding some low-class hookup in the room. No, she’d have none of that. “I was just looking for you. You’re missing from the party.”

SM’s traditional Halloween party, currently happening many levels down the recording and mixing room, was one of the many fancy ballrooms hosted by the company at any given chance with intents to show off its supremacy and, of course, hegemony in the musical field. Your friends and coworkers tried getting you to attend multiple times, but you had shrugged them off. You liked hanging out with them, naturally, but not enough to put on a stupid costume and make small talk with preposterous, shallow people for hours straight. So you denied all the invites, knowing your presence wouldn’t be missed at all: they knew how to party by themselves, beyond everything.

As Karina reminded you of the current event, you took some time to take a proper look at her. Wearing a corset that enunciated her curves and the traditional red cape, along with heavy, black makeup contrasting perfectly with her long, blonde hair, Karina was impeccably dressed as Red Riding Hood. She’d even brought the damn basket with her, currently left hanging in the corner of the room.

She’d grown accustomed to the idol life, you noticed as the blonde stared at you with delight and confidence, certainly not innocent nor shy anymore as when she met you, nearly two years ago.

The old Karina would never wear such a thing. It made her stand out too much, and she loathed it, to have all of the attention and the stares focused solely on her. You still remember that same girl at last year’s Halloween party: dressed as a witch, wearing one of Minjeong’s old costumes, observing the older subaenims and idols with curious, scared doe eyes. Innocent, even.

And the young woman who looked at you like she was ready to devour you whole was anything but.

Karina didn’t mind your lack of manners, though. Leaning on your mixing table as if she owned it, she tried again, “Aren’t you coming to the party? Really? Come on, it’s Halloween! Don’t be so boring and live life for once, for God’s sake.”

You scoffed, coughing hard enough that you had to take a sip of your water to cool yourself, “The party’s for idols and shareholders.”

“And employees too, silly head.” She answered just as quickly, with a broad smile, dismissing all the dryness in your tone. This time, the look in her eyes reminded you of the Karina she truly was: tender, cautious, almost delicate. “I have a spare outfit, in case you want to keep the theme. You’d be the wolf, then.”

You turned your computer off, narrowing your eyes at her. Her intentions weren’t subtle: it was just as clear as clear water for anyone to see, but you couldn’t help it. You just had to have her begging.

For months, you’ve imagined what those pretty lips would look like all messed up with your juices, bruised from your bites and kisses. The thought of it being forbidden only fuels you with the need to ruin her even more. It makes you itch with how much you want to carve your name onto her skin, leaving her as nothing but a whimpering mess until no one— not even herself, could please her anymore. Only you would be capable of bringing her over the edge, from then. Your most feverish wish was to ruin her for anyone else.

You wouldn’t do it, though. It was forbidden, as said before, and you could lose your job for that. So, naturally, you wouldn’t.

She was fucking testing you, though.

“What do you want, Karina?” You repeated yourself, tone incisive, and yet she didn’t let go.

She was having fun with her girls before searching for you. It was her first year attending the party as an official idol, just as she’d always dreamed of. Nothing would piss her off, and she would get what she wanted.

And currently, what she wanted was to have the pretty producer everyone was whispering about around the hallways all to herself.

“It’s Jimin to you, Y/n.” She mumbled, brushing her legs over your arms. Her touch was gentle and patient, making you close your hands into fists to avoid pulling her by the ankles and taking her right in the mixing table. “And I just wanted to check if you wanted to have fun.”

“And it is unnie for you, dearest.” You reminded her, making the girl roll her eyes. She always made sure to forget to use honorifics when alone with you. “I am your producer, darling.” You added, pushing your chair a bit further and managing to keep some distance between the two of you. “So drop whatever plans you have and find someone else to toy with. I’m not falling for it, baby.”

No matter how desperately you wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless.

Your words made her irritated, with Karina’s angelic face furrowing into an angry pout, as it often did when people didn’t immediately indulge her wishes.

A Spoiled princess, indeed.

“Come on, drop that superior shit.” She rolled her eyes, laying on her elbows without a care about the number of electronics placed over the mixing table. The angle favored her costume, and her perfect breasts, just as intended. You gulped, trying hard not to stare, knowing you’d be doomed if you did.

It was nearly impossible, though. To not drop to your knees and immediately indulge to all her wishes. Karina had always had this sweet, dangerous nature: with light kisses and faked innocency, she toyed with people as she wanted, making them give her it all, which they’d always gladly do. How could they not? When she was so polite and attentive, making sure to pay attention to whatever shit they were saying as if it were the most interesting matter in the world.

You know her better than that, though. Better than to participate in her game, no matter how fucking hot she looked.

You’ve always been told it was hard to know what went through your mind, since your face was always blank and serious, almost disinterested. Taking advantage of that, you smiled back at the defiant girl in front of you, placing your arms in each of her sides, but careful not to touch her.

The anticipation drove her crazy, you knew that much as you felt her shiver under you.

Karina hated how, at the moment, she was the one who felt like the prey. Although it thrilled her to feel like she was not fully in control of the situation, it also irritated her for a bit. However, she knew she’d get what she wanted in the end, of course, so she didn’t mind playing with her food for a bit.

“What do you want, darling?” You repeated yourself, using the same indulgent tone you do when talking to her and the girls about their new songs.

Patient, sweet, and attentive, just like you were during work hours and outside of them.

“I wanted to know if you were going to have some fun, finally. But I see the years have made you as boring as the others. Come on, unnie! Don’t I look pretty?” She managed to recompose herself, returning your smile with a venomous one.

“I won’t pamper you. If that’s what you want, go to your little followers. They’d be more than happy to tell you lies.” Your face was so close to hers, yet your words stated the opposite of how you felt.

Truthfully, your cunt ached, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid Karina might hear.

That little prey-game aroused you just as much as it did to her. It was a euphoric feeling, one that blew out your pupils and made the blood run through your veins, giving you that good kind of rush. Only Karina could make you feel such emotions without even touching you.

She was fucking gorgeous, and you wanted every single inch of her for yourself.

“So I’m not beautiful tonight?” She batted her lashes, arms resting on her sides like a crystal princess. “I’ve tried my best to look pretty. I’ve always wanted to be Red for Halloween, after all.”

“Do you like to be a prey, Jimin?” You opened a teasing smile, no longer sustaining your uninterested persona. Your fingers teased her collarbone, making the girl drop her head back to appreciate the touch.

You were doomed. Likewise, you knew that the moment she entered the room.

“To be desired.” She corrected, hands comfortably on your arms like she’s been doing this forever. “Chased, even. It’s fun.” She faced you, suddenly serious. “Will we have fun, Y/n-nie?” Those innocent fucking doe eyes of hers, staring expectantly at you.

You sigh, pulling her onto your lap as you inhaled her sickening perfume. Dangerous and sweet, lingering on her skin. You’d soon make it disappear, leaving her whole body drenched in sweat.

Just as she planned for you to.

Grabbing her beautiful corset, you took your time untying the lace before finally looking at her delicate frame.

God, you were going to ruin her little body entirely, until she was writhing and yelling for you to stop. “One time, and one time only. Got it?” She nodded, seaming pleased enough with your answer.

She’d carve her way onto your brain nice and slow, no worries. So, for now, a one-night stand would suffice.

“Just this once.” She hid her face in the crook of your neck, giggling with delight to have her wishes granted.

You finally gave in to your carnal wishes and kissed her, hard and urgently. You’d let her win, just once.

Because it’s Halloween, and she is indeed the most beautiful fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

-

“H-harder, Y/n. Fuck!” Karina moaned loudly, nails scratching your back to the point where thick red lines adorned your whole back. “Deeper, now.”

Like a queen, she demanded, making you roll your eyes. Her face was all fucked out, her hair unraveled and sweaty from the pounding, and she was absolutely sure her hips, ass and thighs would be all bruised from the way you were gripping them, carving the strap onto her as you made Karina your own personal fucktoy.

“You’re sure too demanding for someone someone who was begging to be filled minutes ago.” You taunted, carving yourself into the girl even deeper. Her hands were interlocked on your neck and her legs did the same to your waist, trying to steady herself at the intensity. “You know how much of a whore you are, right? Going up all those floors by yourself with that fucking strap in your basket just so I could have free use of all your holes.”

“Shut up.” She squeezed her eyes, gasping for air as your hands blocked her pulse point, down her neck. “God, you’re so full of yourself.”

You laughed at her brattiness: she’d never give up, truly. Removing your hands from her skin, you opened her thighs so the strap could reach deeper onto her sweet spot— which it clearly did, as Karina announced so herself. Her wetness was nearly drenching the whole table, making the sound of your thrusts even louder as you placed your fingers on her clit, not yet moving but applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Keep acting up and you won’t get to cum.” You told her, your free hand going up to pinch one of her voluptuous breasts. They were so bouncy and pretty, you just wanted to suck and mark them until there was not a visible inch of her milky skin that wasn’t covered in bruises.

Karina opened her dark eyes, being surprisingly gentle as her teeth scratched your lips. She sucked on your lower lip and, before you had any time to acknowledge, she bit it hard. You drew back, surprised, making her laugh.

“Oh, Y/n-nie,” She licked the blood from your lips, smiling at your reaction. With an unfazed gaze, the girl guided your wrist on her clit, urging you to play with it faster and even harder. She gave your cheek a little kiss, too, adding, “You’re damn cute when you think you’re the one in control.”

You hummed, deciding to focus on Karina’s pleasure instead of indulging the silly provocations she so adored to lead on. With that, you did as told, paying extra attention to her little hole as you returned to your pace, circling and toying with the blonde’s swollen sex until her body began to tremble and she collapsed under you, reaching her orgasm unannounced. You fucked her through it, allowing the dancer to gather her breath and enjoy the final hum of sensations.

Even completely flustered, Karina still looked gorgeous: her body all marked and bruised, a piece of art— your art, and her cunt wet and swollen, still all opened and ready for you.

“You look too pretty like this.” You breathed, verbalizing your thoughts before thinking straight, to which she let out a smile, extending her hand so you’d help her hop off the table.

“I know.” The girl playfully winked at you as her arms found your waist, embracing you in an spontaneous hug.

Of course, you should’ve guessed nothing Karina does is ever not carefully planned. In a second, you find yourself sitting on your chair and she was all over you, now taking her turn into marking her territory. Her mouth sucked and nibbled your clavicle until a line of hickeys are proudly shown, along with her scratches. You don’t mind, though. In fact, you love to have her using you as she wishes, her possessiveness heating up your core at each dirty thing she told you.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself, too, you know.” Although her tone is light, the murmur that follows is dense and drenched in possessiveness, “We’ll have to fix that, soon. No one can stare at my pretty toy like they currently do.”

“You wish, Karina.”

“I do, my love.” She licked her lips, groping your body like a woman starved. “Now lay down for me, will you? I’m quite hungry, and I need a taste of you.”

You scoffed at her words and the excessive sweetness in her tone, but as always, did as told.

Just for tonight, you reminded yourself. You’d relent to her wishes just for tonight. And only because it was Halloween, and you were working hard. You deserved a treat.

[aestheticaltcow]

Wet

Jake Seresin x Reader

[Part 2 to Panty Stealer from Kinktober 2024] (This got a lot longer than initially planned so it's gonna be a three-parter)

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

“Charlie wasn’t a complete pain in the ass, right? If he was, I will ground him,” you asked as you sat next to Jake at the bar. Coming to The Hard Deck after a long week of work with him had become a weekly tradition. There were other aviators around, but the undivided attention Jake gave you was never unappreciated. Jake continued to provide you with all the details on how Charlie was a little shit that deserved to go back to the dumpster you’d found him in as a kitten. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him, “Hey. That’s my son. I can threaten to put him back in the dumpster I found him in, but you absolutely can not.”

Jake rolled his eyes and quickly downed the last of his beer, “So, how was your vacation?”

You shrugged, “It was fine. Honestly, I was a little lonely without you.” your words were music to his ear. “My sisters never want to do shots with me or play pool or go hit on boys because they’re all married.” 

Jake laughed and nodded awkwardly, “When have we ever hit on boys together?” 

“You watch me hit on boys sometimes.” you challenged. Jake laughed again and conceded to your point.

“Want another round?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes. You shook your head and pulled $20 out of your bag. Jake shook his head and pulled his wallet from his pocket.

“I got it this time, beautiful,” Jake said, taking the money from your hand and putting it back in your purse. You groaned and reached for his wallet. Jake laughed, “You buy the six-pack for football this weekend, and we’ll call it even.” 

“Jake, this was my thank you for cat-sitting. Com’on.” you insisted, still none the wiser about how Jake had helped himself to that pair of underwear from your hamper. He shook his head again, and you gave up on paying for the man’s beer. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” 

~

As you checked your makeup in the bathroom mirror, you saw a pair of girls walking in. The one on the left was a cute blonde, and the other was a redhead. You noticed the blonde on the verge of tears, and her friend tried to comfort her, “Girl, he’s not worth it.” the redhead cooed. The blonde shook her head and rushed into the empty stall, “Diana- come on, we don’t cry over aviators!” the girl said outside the door. You weren’t trying to be nosey, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Carly! He’s never said no to me!” Diana sobbed from behind the stall’s door. “He basically called me ugly!” 

You watched Carly roll her eyes from her reflection in the mirror as you pretended to fix your hair. You had no idea who they were referring to outside of him being an aviator who never says- it was Jake. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You grinned in Carly’s direction and awkwardly slipped out of the bathroom, hoping not to run into either of them again. As you walked out to the bar you saw Jack sitting at the bar, scrolling on his phone. Why would he turn down a girl? Especially one that was very much his type… you lost yourself in thought as you joined him back at the bar. “Ready to go?” Jake asked with a smile plastered on his face. There was a look on Jake’s face; you couldn’t tell what it was from, but you were wary of it. You nodded, and the two of you headed out to your cars. 

Jake walked you to your car, which coincidentally was parked a few down from his truck. As you went to unlock your car door, you dropped your keys. You let out an annoyed huff before bending down to pick them up. You didn’t realize the back of your shirt slid up to reveal the top band of your underwear to Jake… the prettiest shade of blue he’d ever seen. He swallowed hard and awkwardly said bye before quickly returning to his truck. His sudden departure confused you, but you shrugged off the behavior as Jake was just being Jake; sometimes, he was a weird guy.

~

Jake sped home and ran upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as he’d parked his truck in the driveway, he somehow unlocked his front door. He yanked open his bedside table drawer and felt like a halo of light came from beneath his most prized possession at the moment, that tiny dark red thong with the little bow on the front he’d been using as a masturbatory aid since he’d taken them from your bedroom the other week. Jake brought them to his nose and inhaled. The scent had subdued since his initial procurement, but he still picked up on undertones of what your pussy must have smelled like. 

Jake laid back in bed and yanked his jeans down before reaching for the bottle of water-based lube on his bedside table. He popped the top of the bottle and was ready to squirt some out, but before he could, he paused. This was creepy, right? Was this was crossing a boundary? He’d had little remorse over the topic the nights prior, but seeing a minuscule sliver of your panties and then running home to masturbate with the pair of panties he’d stolen from your laundry hamper- this was weird? Was this him doing too much? He groaned and closed his lube before tossing it across the room. You were one of his best friends, one of his coworkers, one of the people he felt he could rely on. He’d turned down the blonde girl he’d taken home several times tonight. He said he ‘wasn’t interested’ and had been actively planning to come home to watch a video on his phone while using your panties, but now there was a pit in his stomach he couldn’t get over.

The next day at work, Jake saw you standing by the radio tower, talking with one of the other girls you worked with. That similar feeling in his stomach returned when you waved to him. He met your wave with a tight grin before pushing his aviators up the bridge of his nose and quickly walking the other way. “Hangman!?” you called after him as he went to the hangar. You shot your coworkers a confused look, “That was weird, right?” you asked her. She nodded before excusing herself to the tower. As much as you wanted to confront him but, you were due in the tower.

There was tension in the air at lunchtime. Since Jake had walked away from you this morning, you’d decided not to sit with him and Javy at lunch. Jake tried his hardest not to make eye contact as you huffed past your usual lunch table. Javy looked over his shoulder to watch you go sit with a group of women on the other side of the lunchroom. “What did you do to that girl?” Javy questioned, shooting Jake a dirty look. 

Jake sighed, “I did something stupid, and I’m embarrassed.”

“You’re embarrassed?” Javy asked in astonishment. Jake wasn’t the kind of guy to be embarrassed, so he must have done something horrible. “What did you do to that girl?” 

“I’m not confessing to shit, Coyote.” Jake challenged, “I just need to compose myself before I hang out with Y/N again.” 

Javy’s brow furrowed as he contemplated what Jake could have done to you, “Did you have a sex dream about her? No shame in that. Y/N’s pretty hot.” Jake rolled his eyes at the question. While he has had numerous sex dreams about you since stealing your panties, he’d never confess to it. “Then what’s goin’ on?” Javy laughed.

“I’m keeping it to myself,” Jake said, putting his hands up defensively.

~

You huffed as you walked up to Jake’s front door, frustrated by his behavior the past few days at work. He’d been ignoring you, and today was the final straw. Another air traffic controller in the communication tower had been trying to get into your pants for months. You said ‘no’ every time he’d try to ask you out, but he just wasn’t taking ‘no’ as an answer. Thankfully, Jake would always step in and tell him to fuck off, but since he was actively avoiding you- you had to endure a 20-minute story about how this guy’s adult kickball team was going to some competition and how he wanted you to come with him.

You pounded on Jake’s door, “Jake, open the door! I know you’re home!” you yelled. Your yelling brought Jake snapped him back to reality. He’d been sitting on his couch after work that night, ‘watching’ baseball alone and running the band of your panties through his fingers. He stuffed the panties in his back pocket before opening the door. 

“Hey…” he awkwardly greeted you when he saw you standing there with your hands on your hips. His eyes were drawn to the form-fitting running shorts you were wearing with an old, worn-in Navy shirt.

“Why are you being weird?” you said, pushing into his house. Jake sighed and closed the door before facing you again. He swallowed softly and waited for you to start berating him. “Did I do something?” he saw your brow furrow together as you asked; Jake shook his head, making you groan. “Talk to me, Jake! We don’t not talk to each other. You’re my best friend.” 

“Listen, Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong- this is a me thing.” 

“Jake. I have to go to an adult kickball game because you weren’t there to tell Billy to fuck off. This isn’t just some you thing. What happened?” you demanded

Jake stared at the floor before reaching for his back pocket. He was really going to ruin your friendship. “Just don’t hate me…” he said softly before pulling the balled-up pair of panties from his pocket. He put his hand out and slowly opened his fist to reveal the panties he’d taken from your room. You stared at the material in his hand and were initially confused. When you realized what he was holding, you looked up at him quizzically. 

“Are those- why do you… What the fuck, Jake?” you asked, taking your panties from him. “Why are they… wet?” you feared the answer you’d receive, “NO! Don’t answer that question…”

“Y/N- I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have taken them-”

You cut Jake off by touching his shoulder, “Please stop talking. Jake… this is a lot to take in. Um.. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

[superblysubpar]

<- part eight | epilogue -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: the "enemies” become lovers.

the song: Honey by Kehlani

also for your listening pleasure: I Want You So Bad by Heart , We Belong by Pat Benatar

7,482 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / descriptions of heights-being afraid of them / all favorites listed vaguely except for strawberry ice cream and the princess bride movie / SMUT - slight fingering (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), unprotected piv intercourse with discussions of birth control - creampie | my blog is 18+

Hawkins Middle and High School - the past

    The girls giggled in line, whispering and looking over their shoulder and you knew then it was a really, really bad idea to go with them. 

  The chairs swung in front of you, people yelling and waving to their friends and family down below them and you couldn’t fathom how they could be up so high and have a smile on their face. 

  Your hands started to sweat as you got closer and closer, till it was your turn next. 

  But then they didn’t follow you, when the boy running the ride sighed and said, “Only two on.”

  The girl named Carol pouted and she looked at you, then the other girl, “I’d go with you, but I have to go with Tina. It’s a tradition.”

  “Oh, okay, well, I’ll just…I actually really don’t want-“

  “Single rider! We’ve got a single rider! I need a person to accompany this single rider!”

  “That’s okay!” You rushed, waving the boy off from yelling again as the girls and everyone in line started to snort and whisper. “Please, I am okay not-“

  “I can go with you?”

  A boy with an ice cream cone in his hand standing next to the line glared at Tina and Carol who’s mouths parted. He shoved past them and smiled at you, wavy brown hair flopping in the wind as he looked at the attendant, then held up his chocolate cone, “Oh, um, can I bring this on?”

  “I so don’t care,” the teen waved you on and to your horror, closed the bar over your laps with no belt. 

  Your eyes squeezed shut as it lurched forward , fingers slipping on the metal bar as your breath came too quick.

  “I’m Steve, by the way, sorry about them. They’re pretty nice when they want to be, I think.”

  His words registered, somewhere in your fear, and you managed to spit out your own name. 

  He repeated your name, he murmured something that sounded like the word ‘pretty’ which had you humming a ‘hmm?’ while your eyelids fluttered open in a grave mistake.

  “Oh, uh, I said do you want to share some of my ice cream?” He blinked at you, light brown eyes coming in to focus in front of twinkling lights. 

His cheeks turned pink as he mumbled, “That’s weird, isn’t it? I just…hey, you okay?”

  His gaze roamed over your face that did not look okay at all.

  “I’m…I’m heights aren’t my favorite thing.”

  Steve nodded and looked around, breathing out as the ride stopped and kept you dangling in the air. You gripped his forearm without thinking, closing your eyes.

  “It’s okay, um…okay, wanna hold my hand until it’s over? I know that doesn’t help that much, but you can feel something that…you know like not the ride reminding you of how high up you are? Shit, I mean, if you keep your eyes closed and hold my hand, it’s like we’re on the ground right?”

  “Ri-right?” You hiccupped out through a gulp of air, hand following the yellow sweatshirt sleeve down to bare skin until you could lace your fingers with his. 

  A breeze blew, the bucket you were in swayed with it and you squeezed harder and Steve cleared his throat, “Woah, you’ve got a grip. You ever thought of baseball for a career?” 

  You laughed, but started to try to slip out of his hold from embarrassment, but froze when the ride squeaked, so he held it tighter and whispered, “Wow, these swings, that are on the ground, safely attached to the earth, are so fun.”

  Your nose wrinkled as you laughed through it and shook your head when the ride started again. 

  He kept coming up with scenarios for the creaks, and breezes, the swaying, until your hand was loosening in his to a normal and comfortable hold and your eyes were fluttering open again in a genuine laugh. 

  “Hey, there she is.” He smiled at you. He squeezed your hand, “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  The ride came to a halt and Steve kept his hand in yours as you walked off of it. 

Hawkins, Indiana - Saturday A.B.

  Your fingers roam over your face, your outfit, gaze meeting your own in the mirror as you whisper, “You’re going on a date. Just a normal date.

  Nothing crazy about it.” You shrug, nonchalant, “It’s just with Steve Harrington. You’re probably gonna go to a movie and makeout,” the thought has the butterflies flapping in your stomach, but you hold them off, adding with a finger at yourself, “And then it’ll be over, and you’ll go back to how life was before this bet.”

  Even as the sentence leaves your mouth, your chest tightens. 

  Back to life before he kissed you. 

  Before panic about your safety, before the color red became your favorite too, before you knew what he told Robin. 

  Before he spoke like that to you in his bedroom.

  Before you realized you’ve been in love with him for forever and have just been too scared to get hurt.

  Yeah, easy to go back to before all of that. No problem. 

  A noise outside has you peeking out of your window’s blinds then, and you grab a small bag, and head out your front door. 

  Steve sits in his driver’s seat, going over his plan with his eyes closed. He blows out his breath, nodding to himself. 

“You’re gonna go on this date, and it’s gonna be great, and you are only going to kiss her a little bit at the end of the night, if she wants, and that’s it, Harrington.”

  He opens his eyes and panics, seeing you locking your front door. He quickly jumps out of the car and shouts your name. 

  As you turn, his heart stops beating, he’s sure of it.

  Steve stands at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head and carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers and something else. His hair is perfectly messy, cheeks pink as he waves at you to back up, wearing the same color he was when you met him. A yellow tshirt pulls at his shoulders as he climbs the stairs, voice sweet but scolding.

  “Go back inside!”

  “What?” Word lost around your laughter, hand on the keys still in the door’s lock.

  He huffs, pouting his lips around the words, “I’m supposed to knock on your door, and give you these so you can put them in water, and tell you you’re beautiful.”

  “Oh,” heat floods your body at the word beautiful, but you make no movement as he climbs the last few steps.

  Steve raises his eyebrows at you over gold eyes that sparkle and you let out more of a surprised laugh.

  “Wait you seriously want me to go back in?”

  “Baby, yes,” he motions for you to spin, “I only get one chance, I gotta do this right.”

  “Well excuse me, any other rules I should know about?” You grumble under your breath as your key sticks, you yank but it won’t budge. More laughter leaves through your nose, “My keys are stuck.”

  “Okay, okay, go back inside, leave the keys in the door, and I’ll get them when we finish with the flowers,” Steve says from behind your shoulder. The hot breath on your ear makes a shiver travel down your spine and back up.

  “But I’m already out here and-“

  “Please?” The word is brushed against your ear, gently, sincerely.

  “Mhm,” hums out of sealed tight lips so something embarrassing like a moan doesn’t slip out instead as you push your thighs together under your dress. 

  Entering the apartment, you look at him grinning smugly for getting his way as you close the door and roll your eyes.

  A knock taps in a pattern on the door and you sigh around a laugh and call, “Who is it?”

  “Kevin Bacon!”

  As you whip your door open, ready with a witty reply about cutting loose, you stop. Steve  swallows, eyes roaming over your body despite having seen the red sun dress before tonight and only a few seconds earlier. But when they land on your face, they melt into a look you’ve never seen before. 

  Even though you know he’s going to say it, it feels like air is sucked out of your lungs, deflating you on the spot into a gooey puddle when he clears his throat and keeps eye contact as he murmurs.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” you respond, cheeks warm, “The dress is…”

  “No,” Steve shakes his head, taking a step forward, “You’re beautiful.”

  The puddle you’ve turned into disintegrates into the carpet.

  Steve’s cheeks turn deeper pink, almost the same color as your dress as he shakes his head. “Wait, no, I mean the dress is great, you look, it’s great, it’s, red is definitely your color. I mean other colors look good on you too and-“

  “Steve,” you interrupt and he closes his mouth and then you grin and point to the bouquet, “Are those for me?”

  “Oh, yes!” He extends them to you, your fingers brush as your fingers wrap around the stems. You’re hiding a smile into a sniff of them when a loud click and flash happens. 

  Steve’s pulling a Polaroid square out of a camera as you blink up at him, “Wh-“

  “Rule number one tonight - any time you’re looking too cute, I have to take a picture.” He shrugs, like it’s not the most heart melting, brain fizzing, breath stuttering thing a guy’s ever said or done to you. 

  “I-“

  He lifts the camera again and you grin, swatting at his arm through a laugh, “No, film is expensive you can’t waste it on pictures of me.”

  Your fingers wrapped around his forearm feel right, and the bouquet of flowers is squished between your chests as Steve holds the camera out of your reach, words soft against your cheek as he breathes them out.

  “How would that be a waste, honey?”

  Your heart is so loud in your chest, you wonder if the clear evening forecast was wrong, if a storm actually is coming. 

  Steve purses his lips in thought and then offers, “An amendment to rule number one - only pictures for the moments we really wanna remember?”

  “Big brain word,” you mumble, gaze locked on his lips that twitch in a fight of a smile.

  “We have a deal? No protesting, no saying anything about wasting film, you’re gonna get your picture taken and like it, yeah?”

  The tap of his finger to the tip of your nose shatters your legs, you’re not sure how you’re standing.

  “De-deal,” you clear your throat. With what you think is a smile, your body can’t remember how to do anything but melt anymore, you hold up the flowers. “Well, I guess I should get these in a vase, huh?”

  “Good idea.” He smiles.

  As you wander to your kitchen on wobbly legs, Steve takes a step inside the apartment fully, looking around with a thoughtful gaze. 

  As the glass jar fills in shaking hands, you call out, “Hey, wouldn’t rule number one be no help? How’d you know these were my favorite?”

  “I didn’t get help. I knew they were your favorite already. From middle school.”

  Your fingers turn the tap with a squeak, eyes blinking at the flowers now resting in the jar as you ask, “What?”

  As you return to the main room, he stares at you, like he’s waiting for something, but then he finally says, “Those poems, in lit. You had a line about your favorite flower. I assumed they were still your favorite now.”

  “Oh.”

  Steve and you stand on opposite sides of the room, you holding the jar of flowers and him the Polaroid. The photo is developing slowly, the purples and blues matching the bruise on his temple from Thursday night. The red of your dress matching the small scar on his cheek.

  The moment lingers, like the last few storm clouds are hovering, slowly lifting as the skies clear and bring promise of better weather. 

  He smiles softly and tilts his head towards the door, “Ready? We’ve got a whole itinerary.”

  You grab the camera from him and snap the photo, sure he looks confused and dazed in it, but you don’t care. 

  The photo slowly spits out as you stare at each other, letting the moment you want to remember develop next to his. 

  He holds out his hand, waiting for you to grab it. 

    “Anyways, I’m rambling,” you finish, grabbing a water glass and sipping it as Steve’s thumb brushes over your knuckles of the hand he’s holding. 

  On top of the table. 

  On the edge of the table.

  For everyone to see. 

  He hasn’t let go of it unless he absolutely needed to while eating, and was quick to grab it again when he got the chance.

  His knee knocks against yours under the diner’s table, feet tangled together as he shakes his head. 

  “No, you’re not, and even if you were, I like listening to you talk.”

  It feels like that’s all you’ve been doing since you got to the diner. After Steve took your menu and said that he’d already made arrangements, he’d asked you questions about yourself. Some typical first date favorites that he seemingly already knew, like your favorite food, which was delivered to the table. But most of your conversation went deeper, both of you talking about big dream things like not wanting to work at Family Video forever and what you hoped to do next. How excited he was to live with Robin, and how pissed he was at his parents for moving. Surface level things lead into deeper questions like why a season was your favorite because you spent it at your family’s old cabin and all of the memories wrapped up into it.

  “To be honest,” Steve grabs your second hand as it sets the water down, holding both in the middle of the table as he stares at them, “I think I could sit here all night and listen to you talk to me.” He starts to trace your hands with his fingers, watching the pad drag up your index finger and back down. “You used to barely speak to me, and when you did, it’s not like we had a real conversation.” 

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper to him.

  He lifts a hand and kisses your fingers, “For?”

  Your lips purse, eyes squint, ignoring the swooping in your stomach as you ask, “How much time do we have?”

  Steve laughs, his fingers slide in and out of yours as he looks at them. “I don’t think you have anything to apologize for, honey.”

  “I do,” you say, watching how his fingers glide up and down against yours, wondering if you’ll start a fire right there on the top of the diner table from it. “I never gave you a fair chance. We were just kids and…I’m sorry.”

  Steve looks up at you and shakes his head, “I didn’t give you much opportunity to think I deserved a chance. And I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” He looks like a kid who’s been caught stealing a cookie before dinner as he admits, “I used to egg you on, on purpose a lot. Just so you’d yell at me and get that little spot…” he touches your forehead, and the brain behind it turns to a static TV screen.

  “Which,” he’s grabbing your hand again, unaware he’s erased all functioning properties from you mind as he continues, “I guess I’m not that sorry for. But, I am sorry for being a jerk in school, and after school, and all the times in between.”

  Your head shakes, mouth parting in protest and he leans forward, nose close to yours as he whispers, “How about we’re both sorry, we both think the other doesn’t need to be sorry, and both are true. That just exists, and there’s nothing to argue about, hmm?” His nose taps the tip of yours, brushing up the bridge of it as your eyelashes flutter. “Rule number two?” His breath fans across your lips as he asks, “No more arguing?”

  “But, what will we do if we can’t argue the rest of the night?” You murmur, tilting your head so your bottom lip skims his top and makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like a whine slip out from his throat. 

  His head tilts, and you think he’ll close the small distance between your mouths, but then a flash and pop happens next to your heads and you grin, somehow the photo being taken making the butterflies happier in your stomach than a kiss. 

  But then he’s mumbling, “I don’t know if I even aimed that right…” nose knocking your cheek as he presses closer across the table digging into his stomach.

  “We’ll know what it’s supposed to be of,” words exhaled as you both inhale, tilt, and-

   “Room for dessert?” The waitress interrupts with perfect timing. 

  Steve clears his throat as he leans away from you. He smiles politely at the waitress and says no thanks.  

  Your hands seem to loosen in his, and he only grabs them tighter. 

  “Okay, so. There’s much more to this date, but I wanted to check in, make sure you’re still okay with this?”

  Thumbs rub circles over the back of your hands in a dizzying, electric way.

  And that’s before he lifts one hand and kisses your palm while maintaining eye contact.

  Your thighs adjust on the diner seat as you nod and murmur, “I’m having a great time.”

  He smiles wider, squeezes your fingers. “Great, next stop - dessert.”

    Steve’s fingers tug on yours, pulling you through the crowd as you laugh around a lick of your ice cream. 

  He’d pulled the maroon car into the grassy field ten minutes ago and you’d turned to face him as he put the car in park. 

  He smiled at you, fingers fiddling with his keys and shoulders tight as he asked, “This okay?”

  The Hawkins 4th of July carnival sat before you, twinkling lights, rides, games, and most of the town wandering around it all. 

  You’d nodded and Steve slipped out of the door and pointed at you to stop just like he’d done at the diner. He opened your door and held his hand to help you out, never letting go until he had to pay for your ice cream. 

  As he’d grabbed his cone, he’d glanced at his watch and swore, grabbed your hand again and started pulling.

  You couldn’t help but notice every girl staring as he tugs you through people saying excuse me, couldn’t help but feel that spark of pride in your chest when whenever your grip loosened around people, his only held on tighter.

  “What is the rush!” You laugh, catching melting strawberry ice cream with your lips as he darts to the left.

  “We’re late! I didn’t realize how long we talked at the diner, we’re missing it!”

  “Missing what…”

  Your voice trails off as you approach the big grassy hill packed with people on blankets in front of a large, handmade screen.

  Showing The Princess Bride.

  Robin sits in a booth, chin in her hand, bored, until she sees you two and grins, waving from her station.

  “Wh-what’s going on?” You ask, looking at the screen, then him.

  Steve frowns, groaning, “It’s like half over. Shit, I’m sorry. I had it all planned.”

  He looks at you and all you can see is the chocolate ice cream on his bottom lip as he keeps talking. 

  “Family Video was asked to do a movie in the park, and I asked Keith if I could do it, and I picked The Princess Bride, for you, so we could watch it together, here-“

  Your fingers catch his chin and he can’t breathe as your thumb swipes over his bottom lip. It slips in between your lips, tongue licking the chocolate from it as he breathes heavily.

  His hands lift the camera just as yours go to grab for it and you make eye contact then look at Robin and grin. 

  She snaps a photo of you both when you ask, and you’re fairly certain Steve’s eyes are closed and your mouth is open in a question and it may end up being your favorite one, regardless. 

  You look at Steve and nod towards the hill. 

  This time, you hold out your hand and wait for him to grab it.

  The movie is full of moments.

  One of him asking for a taste of your ice cream and scoffing when you whisper a no, only to grab your wrist and pull it to his mouth and bite it, which you tell him he’s a serial killer for. 

  Once your ice cream is finished, there’s several, where you keep catching him watching your profile when you laugh at the same parts you always do, only for him to turn quickly back to the screen and ignore you when you try to ask him what he’s staring at. Which he says he doesn’t know what you’re talking about to, so then you get loud about it and then his palm covers your mouth as he whispers that you’re talking during the movie and it’s rude, baby, some people haven’t seen this a bazillion times. 

  So many with hands resting next to each other’s, fingers playing with yours, swirling over the skin of your arm up and down and tickling and soothing at the same time, making the butterflies in your stomach bang on the walls and scream about letting them out. 

  Another, where, when he kisses your bare shoulder and pulls your fallen dress strap up, you wonder if butterflies can scream and if Steve can hear them. 

  Then, when the movie’s almost over, Steve tugs on your hand and whispers against your ear (because you were scolded by Robin for talking too loud earlier), that he knows it’s not over, but you have somewhere to be. 

  The pair of you duck as you run past people down the hill, trying not to stumble and fall or laugh or block their view and being unsuccessful in almost all of it. 

  He helps you not fall, hands on your waist and he keeps them there as you turn, breathless, hands against his chest where you can feel his heart beating as hard as yours.

  It feels a lot like you’re facing a fear, about to do or say something you might regret, but you know you never truly will, because at least you said it.

At least you gave the what if a chance to prove you wrong. 

  “Hey,” you whisper, “In case I forget to say it, this date has been pretty perfect.”

  “Yeah?” He swallows, gaze falling to your lips then back up. “Even with the moratorium on arguing?”

  “Did you just say moratorium?” You grin, while your palms climb higher on his chest and around his neck.

  He nods, nose knocking yours, “Mhm, and for my big brain word, I have a request.”

  “Name your price, Harrington.”

  Steve takes a step back and pulls your hands deeper into the fair, until you’re in front of the ferris wheel.

  Your feet scuff on the gravel as he tries to keep pulling you into the line and you shake your head.

  “Please?” He looks nervous, looking at the sky and line and then back at you, “I promise it won’t be bad. Just like the first time, I’ll distract you and I’ll hold your hand until it’s over-“

  “No,” your hand does slip out of his this time, “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  You gesture to the giant ride in front of you, “This is like ten times bigger than that one a school. And I’m bigger! So that’s saying something if it still looks so big!”

  Each of your volume increases, hands gesturing and drawing a crowd as you interrupt each other, rule number two completely broken. 

  “Please, just get in line? It’ll be worth it, and-“

  “I’m not going, no way-“

  “Stop being so stubborn, for once in your life and just-“

  “I’m not being stubborn, you’re being stubborn and I don’t know why it’s such a big deal anyways-“

  “Would you just hold my hand on the damn ferris wheel so I can tell you that I love you!?”

  It feels like every single person at that fair stops talking right then. His words hang in the air, dings and chimes from rides and games get louder as he blinks at you, mouth parting and closing as nothing more comes out. 

  Your chest heaves as you gasp, “Wh-what?”

  Steve swallows and takes a step closer to you, then another, until his hand is cupping your jaw and he’s shaking his head, like he doesn’t want to say the words but he can’t help it anymore.

  “I love you so much. And maybe that’s a crazy thing to say, when this is technically our first date, but…but I do. I love when you snatch red vines out of my fingers and you get that wrinkle between your brows when you think I’m acting like an idiot.” 

Your shaking hand grabs his on your cheek, vision turning blurry as he keeps going, voice cracking as he does, “I love the color of your eyes. I love how you can joke and not take things so seriously until it’s something that really matters. I love your work ethic and your heart and…and I think I’ve loved you since we were twelve and I heard your laugh for the first time while you broke my hand. I love you.”

  It doesn’t feel real, the words coming out of him, the way your chest cracks open and releases the butterflies. All of your fears of not being enough, of only being a game, vanish with three little words said by Steve. The way he says I love you while he looks at you like that.

  Like he means it. 

  Like you’re his. 

  His thumb catches tears on your cheeks while you sniffle as you somehow joke, “Acting like an idiot?”

  Steve laughs, a rumble in his chest as his forehead knocks against yours, waiting, until you take the air out of him and put it back with five words.

  “I love you too, Steve.”

  This kiss, is like the moment the storm is over. When rain drips from the leaves softly and the earth smells fresh - like it’s been given a clean slate. When birds start chirping again and the breeze returns instead of the wind. Like sun peaking out of clouds and gray sky turning to blue.  

  His lips mold around yours, like they’re meant to, like he’s not ever letting them go. Your body heats, like he’s transferring all of his warmth into you from just his lips. Catching yours softly as they part, as they beg for more. He does let them go, only when there’s whoops and whistles around you and a booming crack and spark above you both. 

  Red and blue paint his features tilted up towards the sky, the fireworks in your stomach reflected in his eyes when they look back at you. 

  He kisses you again, in front of everyone, holding your waist and pulling you tightly against him, Polaroid sandwiched between you. Steve keeps kissing you until you’re both panting into each other’s lips, unable to part fully, but desperately needing air.

  Your bottom lip catches his top one again in an over too quick peck as you smile and grab both of his hands, and tug him towards the parking lot. 

    He had to pull over fifteen minutes ago. 

  You’d kissed him dizzy in the grassy field, letting him press your body up against the door he was planning to open for you.

  Mouth that had always been so mean to him making up for so much lost time. Lips that parted under his and followed his lead, that sucked and bruised right back, always matching his shift, countering back, challenging him and making something inside of his chest feel like it was prying open to get into yours. 

  The feeling was addicting. 

  He remembers his hands on your hips, pressing you into the car with his body, your name barely escaping between tongue and lips that just wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop. 

  You’d hummed, while fingers squeezed the back of his neck and then scratched along the back of his head, grinning around his mouth that parted in a gasp when you did. 

  “We,” he’d swallowed as your mouth slipped along his jaw, his head tilting back so you could kiss his throat, “We should…jesus christ.”

  Your teeth scraped the side of his neck and his hands pressed to the hood of the car, thigh nudging between your legs and only stopping when you moaned against his ear. 

  You’d rolled your hips experimentally, mouth moving lower again so it could get a proper kiss once more, now that you’d gotten a chance for deeper breaths. 

  Steve’s hands had gone back to your waist and squeezed, his mouth evaded yours and pressed to your ear.

  “You really are trouble, you know that?”

  It just made you wonder what else it would take for him to call you that again.

  But then it started to rain. 

  Everyone started running into the field, shrieking and laughing as rain thrummed and pinged on metal rides and wood booths. 

  He quickly opened your door, shoving the camera and Polaroids at you and ran around his hood. 

  Both of you swiped at your eyes, shivering from the cold rain that only turned down some of the heat between you. He’d swallowed as he looked at you, licked his bottom lip and asked if he could drive you home. 

  You’d nodded, and after he’d pulled onto the road, your hands met in the middle of the console. 

  But then you’d laid his hand on your thigh, pressing yours on top of it. You’d fiddled with his fingers, humming along to the radio and pretending like you weren’t up to no good.

  Adrenaline coursed through your veins, every doubt washed away from the rain when Steve looked over at you with pouted, kiss-bitten lips, voice scratchy as he warned, “Honey…”

  Which was his own fault. He shouldn’t have said it like that, shouldn’t have looked at you like that when he did. Cause it only made you lace your fingers with his from above. Made you move your hand and his to the hem of your dress where his fingers twitched when they hit bare skin. 

  “You-“

  He stopped, biting his lip when you pulled at the hem, lifting it higher and letting the pads of his fingers drag along the inside of your thigh till he hit wet lace and cotton. 

  “Please?”

  Which was your own fault. You shouldn’t have said it like that. Shouldn’t have looked at him like that when you did. Cause it only made it easier for you to guide his fingers to push under the black fabric. Made it too easy for the pads of two fingers to brush through your slick far too slow and tease at your clit before doing it again, and again, and-

  He pulled his hand away when you gasped as the car swayed on the wet pavement and he shook his head, hands back to ten and two, mumbling the word trouble again. 

  But then he was pulling over, lights cutting the slant of rain on the deserted gravel road as he looked over at you with pink cheeks and wild, wet hair and nodded his head to his side of the car.

  “Get over here, now.”

  You’d grinned and said:

  “Ask me nicely, Steve.”

  And now your thighs were parted over his, the skirt of your evil dress fanned out all pretty and covering up how indecent you were underneath. 

His hands held your waist as your hips rolled, the mess of black fabric underneath hitting against his Levi’s that were far too tight just right. 

  Heart’s song mixing with his own, thudding in his chest as you whisper his name against his lips like a prayer. He wonders if he can get you to come like this, just riding him fully clothed in his car, with just his mouth on yours, but that’s not what he wants. Not right now, not tonight.

  “Baby,” he sighs, “We gotta slow down. You’re killing me here.”

  It only makes your hips roll with a little more pressure, a laugh bubbling out of you as his eyelids flutter and the back of his head hits the seat rest with a groan. 

  He squeezes at your waist and holds you still, mouth catching yours when you whine. 

  It’s a much softer, shorter kiss than you’ve had all night, but not as sweet as what he says after. 

  “I wanna take my time with you.”

  He stares at you, and your hand leaves his shoulder, pad of your finger tracing over freckles on his cheek, his cupid’s bow, up the bridge of his nose. It’s tender on his eyebrow, careful to avoid the bruise, until it’s gently brushing the three freckles next to his eye. 

  “Did you know you have a little bit of green in your eyes?” The murmured words take his heart and squeeze, make it harder to swallow as your nose nuzzles into his and you add, “I don’t want to miss anything else, Steve. Don’t wanna waste time we can’t get back.”

  He kisses the corner of your mouth, your jaw. He presses soft and silky lips to just below your ear, lower, lingering on your racing pulse point before he’s back to staring at you. 

  “I’ve waited over ten years for this, I’m not doing it in my car. It needs to be…I wanna remember this.”

  A smile lifts your cheeks, and you reach for something, then whisper into his lips:

  “So let’s remember it.”

  A flash, a click, and a whir, before several moments lead up to a big one. 

  One’s where you climb off his lap regretfully, and he drives towards your apartment. 

  Several of climbing stairs and nervous fingers fumbling with keys and light switches. A radio plays Pat Benatar, music swelling around you both as you start kissing against your door.  

  Too many to count of kisses stolen between all of the other moments, till you’re in your bedroom with Steve Harrington and you’re pulling at his shirt that sticks to his skin. Bare arms quick to wrap back around you once it’s over his hair. 

  Your fingers scrape down his chest, over his stomach and shake while they work at metal and leather until he’s helping. Till he’s standing in front of you in just black boxers and swallowing as you look at him. 

  He steps forward, breath shaky as he asks, “Can I?”

  Once your head nods and you say please, his fingers drag red fabric higher and higher, gently pulling it over your head until you’re standing in front of him in just black lace which is so much harder to concentrate around than red. 

  Steve kisses you again, softer and sweeter. Slowly dragging your mouth open with his as his hand cups your jaw. Your hands roam from his chest to hips, pulling him towards you and both to the bed. 

  He climbs over you as your head meets the mattress. He breaks away from your mouth with panted breaths, kissing down your throat, over collar bones and your chest as you blink at your ceiling and try to remember how normal breathing works. His hands caress down your side and back up, fingers playing with the band of black on your back until you’re nodding, asking him to take it off. 

  Steve swallows at the sight of pebbling nipples underneath him, gasps a breath against the curve of your chest when his fingers brush one and you jolt and make a noise he hasn’t heard yet. He needs to hear it again, and let’s his tongue glide out to wet the same spot before brushing it again.

  It’s even better the second time. 

  He moves lower still, when you say his name and your hips adjust beneath his. Not sure if he’s dreaming when his fingers hook into lace and drag the underwear over your hips, past your thighs and off of your ankles. He’s pretty sure his heart is bruising the inside of his chest after he watches how it clung to you, space between your thighs already sticky and dripping for him. 

  You don’t have time to wonder what he’s thinking or worry about being anxious or doubt anything because he’s kissing your ankle, the inside of your knee, mouthing at all of the bare skin as he climbs higher again.

  “This is…” he swallows, breath fanning over your clit as he looks up your body and asks, “You’re okay? You want to keep going?”

  His eyes shine in the low lamplight of your room, hair drying and messier than ever from all your fingers have done to it tonight. His lips pout as he waits with held breath for your answer when you look down at him. 

  “Yes,” you nod, frantic about it and hand meeting his on your hip and holding tightly, “Please, I-Steve.”

  He moans into your folds at the sound of his name, at the taste of you finally on his tongue. It licks over you in flat, broad stripes. He traces each lip, nose leading the path up to your clit each time. Which throbs when the tip presses into it just right as his tongue pushes at your entrance. 

  Your fingers squeeze his as your back arches and the other grips your bedding. Chest heaving from the feeling of his tongue flicking faster. The stubble on his cheeks scratch at your thighs that squeeze around him tighter, which only makes him double down on the movement, lapping at you like he’ll never get to do it again and needs to make sure he doesn’t miss anything you give him. 

  His name leaves you louder, like you’ve never said it before.

  Like it’s yours. 

  He’s seeing red, when you clench around him tighter as his free hand presses circles into your clit until you’re shaking around him, fingers limp in his. 

  Your eyes are closed as your chest rises and falls quickly when he removes himself and looks at you from where he kneels between your legs. His hands gently roam up and back down your thighs, lips smiling when you sigh at the feeling, content.

  He doesn’t want to break it, whatever’s happening inside your head, but his fingers swirl circles higher, just below your ribs, voice scratchy when he asks, “Was that…”

  “If you’re about ask if that was okay…” you smile, eyes finally fluttering open. 

  Somehow, despite having the best orgasm just moments ago, you ache for more at the sight of him. 

  He kneels between your legs, his own chest panting a little too fast. Pride shoots through yours from how glossy his lips are, how pink his cheeks turn, how much his pupils take over normally golden iris’. 

  You’re a little crazed about it, pulling at his wrists so he falls on top of you, pushing at his boxers that he’s eager to help rid himself of too. Steve stands, pulling them off and your mouth goes dry, and he has the nerve to have some clarity, to look smug and ask, “See something you like, honey?”

  A laugh bubbles out past your lips as you shake your head, hands covering your eyes as you try to get your breathing under control. 

  The bed dips and his fingers skate over your skin, up higher until his palms are pressed into the pillow and your hands fall at the feeling of all of him on top of you, pushed up against you.

  Your hips roll, making him bite his lip above you when his length slips between your folds. Both of you breathe harshly into each other’s mouths, sliding together, teasing your kisses and the thing you’ve both been waiting for. 

  Until your hand pulls at his hair and you beg, “Need you, right now.”

  Steve grips at your hip, dizzy from how you coat him and he’s not even inside of you yet. He gasps, “Ask,” he nips at your bottom lip, “Nicely.”

  Your head shakes no, so your lips brush against his and then he’s swearing, closing his eyes and mumbling, “Oh my god, I’m an idiot.”

  “What?” You blink at him. 

  Steve moans, lips pressed to your jaw, nose into your cheek as he admits, “I don’t have a condom. I…I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  The thought makes you grin, makes your eyelashes flutter because he twitches next to your entrance when you say, “Big brain word.”

He laughs, breath hot along your jaw and gasping as you roll your hips and offer, “Want your prize?”

  “Honey,” it sounds pained, like he’s one roll of your hips away from coming.

  “I-I’m on birth control. And I love you. I wanna do this,” your hands rub at his shoulder blades, down his biceps and back up. “Wanna feel all of you, Steve. Please?”

  He squeezes his eyes shut, his throat bobbing in front of you as he forces out a rushed, “You can’t just say stuff like that baby, don’t be mean.”

  Your hand reaches between you, fingers wrap around him and you’re addicted to the way his eyelashes flutter, the way he says your name when you tug once, lining him up with your entrance. 

  His eyes open in a daze, gaze bouncing between your eyes as he asks, “You’re sure?”

  You’re nodding and then suddenly, wonderfully, beautifully, you’re kissing Steve Harrington as he pushes inside of you. 

  He stops when you gasp around his lips, eyes frantically searching over your face but only finding a blissed out expression with each inch he slips in more. He wishes the camera wasn’t down in the car.

  Next time.

  You envelope him completely, legs rising on either side of his hips and arms around his neck, lips against his as you nod and encourage him to keep going. Each ridge and curve of each other fitting together and nothing between either of you anymore, holding you back. 

  Steve’s hand curls against your waist, forehead pressed to yours when he rolls his hips experimentally and you moan into his mouth again, his name sounding desperate this time. Your hands claw at his back when he starts thrusting and all he can think about is asking you to do it harder and then taking you to the pool tomorrow. Show off how you marked him up while he holds your hand and people stare. 

  His eyes flutter open to find you already staring at him. Your lips mold together in a long kiss, parting in the same breath. Eyes open again as your mouths brush and beg each other’s names, hands caress and memorize over each other’s bodies while they glide together. Steve grabs your hand that tangles the sheets, lacing his fingers with yours and holding on until it’s over, and even when it will be, he has no plans to let go. 

  Your heartbeats thud against chests pressed together, no longer separate rhythms, and each push into you and slow drag out brings you higher and higher and you’re suddenly not so scared of how far the fall is anymore, not with Steve Harrington holding your hand. 

  He presses it tightly into the pillow, breath coming sharp and hating that this is over so quickly. But then you’re looking at him like that, like he’s yours. And he’s looking at you like that. Like you’re his. A scrunched forehead knocks yours and he’s spilling inside of you, warmth flooding over you both as his lips capture yours in another kiss. 

  This kiss, is different. This kiss is like when a storm is over, and not everyone notices, but there’s always a rainbow, somewhere, if you’re patient enough to find it, to search for it. 

  Your hand softens in his hair, the other a comfortable grip in his. His chest sighs against yours, breath fanned across lips that savor and treasure your kiss. 

  Steve lifts up, only slightly, so he can look at you when he says.

  “I love you.”

  Mouths find each other again, swallowing unspoken promises of this only being the beginning.

  Until you’re speaking into the kiss, needing to get the last word.

  “I love you, more.”

  Steve pulls away, looking at your eyes. He shakes his head.

  “Quit lying, honey.”

  Honey.

Thank you SO much for reading this story. I wasn't going to come back and finish it, and I'm so glad I did. And then only reason I was able to was because of sweet comments and reblogs left and those of you who came and sent dms and asks. I hope the wait was worth it and I appreciate you so much! There is a small epilogue, but please read the warnings on it, may not be your thing ✌🏻💛

BICFTF TAGLIST:

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf @khena @ytgus @starryeyedpoet17

@halfburntout @belle101200

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @just-my-latest-hyperfixation! They've written 120 fics in the Stranger Things fandom, with all of them being in the Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation:

Hic sunt dracones

Someone who cares

Updraft

(You got me) in the palm of your hand

Just add water

Hype. My love. The girl with the dragon AU. I could not be more obsessed with Hype’s writing. I wasn’t much of a fantasy girlie growing up, or even reading fic in other fandoms, but something about the way she writes dragon fucking really sold me. Even when she isn’t writing some type of magical fantasy world, she’s writing intricate details about these characters we all love so much, and giving them stories that make them seem so interesting. She’s my number one hype girl when I run events, always participates even when she’s busy writing novels for the bang or after the bang. I’m so lucky to have been able to meet her and have her as a friend. We’re all lucky to have her in this fandom. Love youuuuuu ♥️ -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Because those two dumbheads came crashing into my brain and flipped a switch that I had never expected to get flipped again. Before S4, I hadn’t written fiction in over fifteen years and I had never posted any of my works, anywhere. I saw my first Steddie fanart on Instagram and I thought to myself, “Huh, that is neat. Let’s check out AO3.” And I did. And I fell down a rabbit hole of epic proportions. There were plot bunnies living in that hole. And I had been there, before, over the years, and every time I had found excuses to not write my ideas down. Except, this time, the fuckers were relentless. And so, one day, I sat down on my lunch break, and I bashed out the first 1.5k words of what would become “Someone who cares”. The next day, I sat down and wrote 1k more. And more the day after that. That was almost exactly two years ago, and there hasn’t been a day since where I haven’t written at least a few sentences. I’ve recently cracked 500k words published on AO3, all Steddie, and it sure as hell doesn’t like I’ll be stopping any time soon. I never want it to stop, tbh.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love when they are completely feral and unwell over each other. Give me those acts of undying devotion, give me that possessive sex, give me the jealousy and the drama. (But also give me that happy ending, most of the time. I will read a good dark fic, every now and then, but most of the time, I’m a happy ending sorta gal.) Bonus points if they snark and bicker like an old married couple while being also completely and irrevocably gone for each other.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

First and foremost, I think it’s safe to say that I love writing AUs (mermaids and dragons and demons, oh my …). There’s just something to sticking these boys in the wildest of scenarios and trying to figure out how they’d behave, and what it would take to make them fall in love (because they always fall in love, in every universe).  Another thing I frequently find myself drifting towards is the Found Family trope. Both of our boys are canonically depicted as having strained relationships with their biological parents, and I love exploring that and making them find safety and trust and a sense of home outside of that “traditional” idea of family - with each other, with the kids, with Wayne. There’s so many ways of exploring this trope, and I think that is beautiful. 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

See, that is impossible to answer because there’s just thousands of them out there, and so many amazing ones that deserve all the love! No way I can narrow it down to just one. Here’s a few that I constantly find myself thinking of and that I keep recommending to friends: - Money, power, glory by @strangerthings1975 - one of the first ones I read and that got me hooked on the pairing - @wynnyfryd ’s Yogi!Steve series - delightfully filthy, delightfully funny, and one of the best ADHD!Eddie voices I’ve read out there - Sugar, we’re going down by @thefreakandthehair - everything lex writes sucks me right in tbh. She just has a great way with language, and how she portrays the boys is so lovely.  - @eyeofshinigami’s a/b/o series- lovely, in-character exploration of omega!Eddie and alpha!Steve and their relationship through its various stages. This is what inspired me to write my own a/b/o fic! 

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I can never reliably say what tropes or topics I’m going to explore beyond the projects I’m currently working on, because the plot bunnies do what they want. No way of knowing where they’ll take me next, so I’ll just sit back and enjoy the ride.

What is your writing process like?

I’m probably one of the most notorious plotters I know. Before I start writing, I need to have an idea of what’s supposed to happen in the story and where it’s going, or I’ll give myself massive anxiety. Almost all of my multi-chapter fics have an outline doc. (The only exceptions so far have been “Just add water” and “Whatever you want it to be”, and those were originally planned as one-shots and spiraled out of control.) The outline doc is my red thread that contains the story’s basic premise, an overview of the key characters and their roles, and outlines of the different chapters broken down into bullet points. Those are not set in stone. I frequently tweak details as I go (change the location of a scene, insert an extra Steddie or Stobin-centric scene if I feel they need more screen time, switch important revelations or plot points to a different chapter), but the outline document is my blueprint that ensures I know what I’m doing and how to get from point A to point B. I write chronologically, in the order laid down in the outline doc, and my first draft is actually pretty close to the version that ends up getting posted. I usually check for SPAG, tweak a sentence here and there, and that is it. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I think the most noticeable one would be that I have a major case of wordy bitch syndrome. When doing chaptered fics, my finished word count always ends up higher than my initial estimate. When writing things with a word count cap, such as drabbles or microfics, I always, always, ALWAYS need to manically trim my first draft. One of the main things I do when editing is deleting superficial descriptors. (You don’t need three adjectives to describe the same action, Hype, you really do not!!!)

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Most of the time, I prefer posting my chapters as I finish them, because I thrive on that immediate feedback. Seeing my readers’ reactions and getting to experience the story with them as I write is a lovely feeling.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I think it's a tie between “Someone who cares” and “Hic sunt dracones”, which are both very special to me for very different reasons.  “Someone who cares” was the fic that started it all. The first thing I wrote after my 15-year hiatus. The first fic I finished. The first fic I shared. This fandom has made my life a lot brighter and brought me close to so many amazing people, and it all began here. “Hic sunt dracones” is the one that has exceeded all of my wildest expectations. Everything I dreamed of but never thought possible when I first started sharing my stories, this one has achieved. It has sparked incredible fandom friendships for me. It has made rec lists. It has fanart. (The info may or may not be out already when this posts, but I've been reliably informed that someone is currently BOOKBINDING it. 😱) I just continue to be floored and humbled by the reactions to this fic!

How did you get the idea for Just add water?

I crowd-sourced it! I had just hit 250 followers on tumblr, and to celebrate, I did a round of polls to let my followers pick a concept for my next fic. AU or canon-adjacent? What kind of AU? Who was supposed to be the mer-dude? Where should the fic be set? In the end, I had a mermaid AU with mer!Steve and human!Eddie, set at Lovers’ Lake and one scene as well as two dialog prompts to include. It was heaps of fun and a bit surprising watching the poll results roll in, and I love the fic that came out of it (even though it spiraled from the originally intended one-shot and ended up being five chapters and over 20k long 🤣). 

When writing Updraft, what was something you didn’t expect?

I definitely didn’t expect for Steve to come forward and admit he was very aware of Eddie’s history and that he’d basically had a crush on him for the past four years. I did not plan that part at all, it just sort of snuck up on me, and suddenly he’d said it and I was like “damn, that’s good, we’re keeping that in.” That’s what I mean when I say that, no matter how much planning you do, they just have a mind of their own sometimes. I love surprising myself like that!

What inspired Updraft?

When I was brainstorming ideas for the Steddie Big Bang 2023, I jotted down a little bullet point that said “Something steampunk bc steampunk is cool” and that was basically it! 😂 I just love the entire steampunk aesthetic, and I always wanna give artists something image-heavy that they can really go to town on for a collab. (And let’s be honest, somebody needed to put Steve in a tophat. It had to be done.)  The idea didn’t make the final cut for the 2023 Big Bang, but I sort of kept rotating it in my brain for the next twelve months, and then decided to go with it for the 2024 round, and was lucky enough to be claimed by @cuips-not-cute, who really nailed the aesthetic I was going for with their artwork! ⚙️🎩❤️

What was your favorite part to write from (You got me) in the palm of your hand?

The sex scene in the van. Definitely one of the sweetest, softest smut scenes I’ve written to date. Closely followed by the finale in front of Eddie’s tent, with Steve in full costume, trying to struggle his way through that over-the-top script that Dustin wrote for him. 😂

How do/did you feel writing Someone who cares?

I mainly felt very confused with myself, because I hadn’t written ANY fiction in forever, and here I was, with that novel-length beast just pouring out of me one word at a time. I also second-guessed myself a lot. Was my English good enough? Wasn’t I writing everyone horribly OOC? What if nobody liked it? I think I’ve rarely felt as nervous as I did on the day I hit that Post button on chapter 1. I couldn’t believe I actually did that, but today I’m so proud of myself and very happy I took that leap. 

What was the most difficult part of writing Hic sunt dracones?

The damn middle part! 😅 This is actually something I struggle with a lot. Many of my stories come to me with pretty solidly formed beginnings and ends, but connecting the two is what regularly gives me headaches.  “Hic sunt dracones” was no exception here. The first few chapters just sort of barged into my head, nearly fully formed, and demanded to be written with an insistence I couldn’t ignore. By the time I posted chapter one, I had almost everything up to the castle escape figured out, and I had a pretty solid idea of the ending I wanted, but the in-between was very blurry to me. For the longest time, the only thing my outline said was “They hang out at Eddie’s lair and fuck a lot”, but I had no idea on how to actually move the story forward beyond the monsterfucking. 🤣 What really did the trick was adding the sacrifice scene in chapter three to my plan, because that sort of is what propels the rest into motion and allowed me to tie things together at the end. That, and adding Wayne and his merry band of misfits to the cast, because Steve needed someone to actually fuel his character growth.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I mean “Yes, beloved?” gets screamed back at me so often I’ve made it my ask button, but there’s many.  I loved writing their first kiss in “Someone who cares”, because I had been edging both myself and the readers for seven chapters and by the point I finally got around to it, even I was like “damnit, come ON already!!”  I was grinning so hard while writing the big reveal in “Just add water”, where Steve physically dunks screaming, wet rat Eddie to shut him up.  Those are just two examples, but I have many of these scenes, and when people pick up on them and tell me how much they loved them, that always makes my day a little. 💖

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Anyone who follows me is probably sick of me talking about it by now, but @houseofthemovingimage and I are working on an absolute monster of a fic and art collab. It’s called “The King’s Gift”, and it features time traveler Steve, medieval king Eddie, a fae curse and lots of fun and drama and romance. ✨ I will not try to give any more estimates on when it’ll start posting bc we’ve both had a bit of a year and good things take time, but just know that I’m munching on the drywall over here, I’m so feral over it.  Other than that, I’m planning on participating in the @steddieholidaydrabbles again this year, and I may have been bouncing ideas with some other artists and fellow writers about more collabs, so there’s definitely more to come!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to @steddieas-shegoes for nominating me, and thank you to the amazing mods here at @steddieunderdogfics for all the hard work you’re putting into this blog! I love reading your fic recs and interviews, and it was so much fun getting to do one of my own. 🥰 This little online space we have here is so beautiful and creative and full of so many incredibly talented, kind and supportive people, some of whom have not only become moots but friends over the past two years. The Steddie fandom brings a smile to my face every single day, and I am simply unbelievably happy to be a part of it!

Thank you to our author, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, and our nominator, @steddieas-shegoes! See more of @just-my-latest-hyperfixation works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[seoll3miwrites]

'Cherry' | Fem!Y/N x Lyutsifer Safin

Y/N is working undercover at a Strip Club in Vegas when she encounters Safin meeting with a potential supplier for his newest concoction, usually a top performing agent she suddenly finds herself being unable to tell a lie. (Word Count: 2553)

Warnings: Guns, Blood, Death, Drug usage, Drink spiking (but not by Safin)

Masterlist

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

“I said this was a terrible idea...” Y/N said as she adjusted the tight leather dress she’d been forced to wear.

“We just need to get the benefactor’s name; it shouldn’t take much longer.” Q explained as he checked his surveillance gear; he usually didn’t leave London, but Y/N had specifically requested Q join her as she trusted him the most.

“It’s been two weeks, Q...”

“Apparently someone’s booked the VIP booth tonight, so this might be the last night you have to do.”

MI6 had been trailing a possible drug ring that operated in Las Vegas; rumours had spread a drug that completely erases a person's ability to lie, making them more controllable. As one of the youngest female agents, Y/N was assigned to go undercover at one of the target strip clubs and figure out who was funding the operation. They’d found a job at a club called ‘Bunny Girls’ and inserted Y/N in as Cherry, the club’s newest waitress.

“Anyway, you’re running late for your shift, so go go go.” As he spoke, Q pushed her out of the small building he’d been operating from. Once Y/N was outside, she huffed before walking around the corner and entering the club she was undercover at.

"Cherry, just the girl I want to see.” The club owner greeted her as she entered the dressing room, “The VIP booth is booked tonight, so I want all your attention on our big spenders.”

Y/N bat her eyes, taking on the role of Cherry once again. “Sure thing, boss,” she said, earning an appreciative look from the owner. Once he left, she sat down in her chair and started getting ready.

When the club opened an hour later, Y/N had her hair curled and her makeup completed, the glitter on her eyes making them sparkle under the club. Standing, she readjusted her dress one more time before making her way on to the main club floor.

“Hey Cherry!” John, the barman, greeted her as she stepped behind the bar. “You dressed up pretty tonight.”

She repressed the urge to roll her eyes; ever since she’d gone undercover, John had taken every opportunity to shamelessly flirt with her. According to the other girls, he took it as tradition to sleep with all the new starters.

“I’m dressed the same as I usually do, John,” Y/N stated, and she started getting the VIP buckets prepped, filling them with ice. 

He simply smiled at her. “I know..." John titled his down as she crouched to pull out the bottles for the ice buckets. “But I think you get hotter every night.”

“Does that line usually work?” She stood back up and started placing the bottle in the buckets.

“Don’t pretend it isn’t working on you.” He leans into her space as he speaks; Y/N backs up slightly.

“I’ve got a job to do so…” As she speaks, she gestures to the two buckets she needed to take to the VIP booth.

"Well, before you go, at least taste test my newest drink.” She sees a shot glass slide across the counter in front of her. “It’s cherry-flavoured.”

Y/N is about to say no; tell him to fuck off with his desperate attempts to seduce her, but instead she just sighs and drinks the shot quickly so she can continue this night without any more problems. He’s right, it does taste like cherries; it’s sweet and a little tart, but Y/N still finds herself enjoying it. Placing the glass down, she turns to John, “Happy now?”

“Very, now go on; we can talk later.” He had a strange look on his face, but Y/N decided to just leave it until later. She walks back out of the bar while carrying the two buckets, heading to the VIP booth.

In the booth are what seems to be two different groups of men, clearly some ‘business’ discussing some type of criminal partnership. One group Y/N recognises as an infamous casino owner and drug dealer in Las Vegas, but the other is an enigma. Her eyes scan the second group; they seem more professional than the first group. The first group greets her with cheers and whistles while they keep their expressions guarded.

Sitting in the middle of the booth are the two leaders of the groups. The first group’s leader is an older man, dressed in what you’d expect a mob boss to dress in. The second is younger but still mature-looking; his face is covered in scarring that reminds Y/N of lighting; it’s eerily beautiful. His blue eyes are calculating as he looks at her; he seems almost amused.

Shaking off his gaze, Y/N retakes her ‘Cherry’ persona: “Hello Gentlemen, welcome to Bunny Girls; I’m Cherry, and I’ll be your waitress this evening; anything you need, just give me a call.” She finishes her introduction with a flirty wink.

The scarred man doesn’t speak to her instead choosing to whisper to his companion, who looks at her. Instead, the other leader turns to her with a leer. “This is why I like this place; they always give us the pretty ones.”

He gestures to the space between him and the scarred man, “Come sit with us, darling.”

Y/N hesitates for a moment and glances at the scarred man subconsciously, who simply gives her a subtle nod. As she moves towards the empty space beside him, her heart beats faster. She feels the man’s gaze on her, causing shivers to spread through her body.

The other man put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, leaning in close. “What’s a pretty thing like you working in a place like this?”

Her body feels hot suddenly, and thinking it’s just from the men's body heat, she ignores it. “Just making sure you lovely gentlemen enjoy your night.” She answers, but a part of her feels compelled to keep speaking; she bites her lip to stop herself.

“Not what I mean, darling,” the man responds, “I mean, how’d a girl like you end up here and not under the arm of some billionaire?”

Without thinking, she blurts out an answer: "Well, I didn’t want to work here, but my boss made me.”

‘Why are you saying this?’ Y/N thinks confused with herself; her mind feels cloudy, and her body starts to loosen. She keeps thinking back to that cherry-flavoured shot she’d drank. ‘Shit… I’ve been drugged.

The scarred man leans back to look at her; his eyes suggest he’s thinking of something. “Interesting…” His voice is deep and hoarse with a thick Russian accent. “And why did he make you work here?”

“We need information on a potential drug ring; the drug currently circulating could compromise The Crown’s security.” She needed to get out of here before she’d kept talking, but she couldn’t move.

He leaned in closer, assessing her carefully. Close enough to smell, she inhaled sharply—florals and something else. Y/N felt out of control; her body wasn’t computing with her mind anymore. He spoke in a low whisper, “And why would a girl like you care about the safety of the crown?”

This was bad; it was clear this man knew Y/N had been drugged. “She’s a goddam spy!” The other man yelled alarm as he pulled his hand away and stood, his men following suit. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it towards her.

The scarred man's smirk widened as he watched the scene play out, the revelation of her identity causing a shift in the room. The other man is now pointing a weapon at her. He remained calm, unmoving. He was amused by the development, intrigued by the young women.

"A spy? How intriguing." He leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery.

"You have quite the nerve, Miss..." He let the question hang in the air, waiting for her response.

“Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” She said through gritted teeth, still trying to resist the effects of the drugs, forcing her body to stand.

Safin chuckled softly, appreciating her determination. "Miss Y/L/N..." He savoured the way her name rolled off his tongue. "How interesting, a spy from MI6.”

He watched her struggle to stand, her attempts to resist the effects of the drugs in vain. His eyes scanned her figure and the way her body moved uncontrollably. There was something so enticing about the way she was fighting, the way she was losing her composure.

He stood slowly, walking towards her. His voice was low, almost seductive. Y/N was overwhelmed with how this man was able to effect her, but trying to regain her dignity, she held her head high and responded, “You never introduced yourself, sir.”

"Ah, forgive me, where are my manners?” He spoke, standing to move in front of her, his eyes predatory. “I am Doctor Lyutsifer Safin.”

She stepped back from him in fear but froze when she felt the end of the gun. The other man was still aiming towards her. The man she now knew as Safin watched her carefully, “Leave us; we will discuss our business later.” He spoke to the other group, not taking his eyes off the young agent.

The other men left without hesitation, their gazes lingering on Safin and the young agent before they exited the VIP booth. As soon as they were alone, the atmosphere changed drastically. The club around them was still alive—the music, the laughter, the dancing. She could hear the announcer introduce another girl as the crowd cheered. But in their isolated vicinity, it was almost quiet, almost intimate.

He took another step towards her. “You... don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Should I?" She couldn’t move, allowing him to take a mother step forward, their chests almost touching. 

He smiled slightly amused by her response, reaching a hand to trace his finger along her jawline, his touch as light as a feather. “You’re the one undercover, spying on my people.”

“I was given a very... limited mission assignment.” She explained, giving up on stopping herself when it was clear nothing could, “We didn’t know who we were looking for.”

His touch became more purposeful, fingertips gliding down her arm, feeling her body shiver under his touch. His eyes roamed over her face, observing her closely. "Who sent you here, Miss Y/L/N?"

“I think you already know," she spoke, trying to hold onto the last piece of information her drugged mind hadn’t given up.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer. His voice was a whisper; she could feel his breath on her neck. “I want you to say it out loud.”

Y/N clenched her eyes shut, unable to hold back any longer, “I work for MI6.”

She heard Safin hum seemingly pleased with her response. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh just a little harder.

He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching her neck, his breath hot and heavy against her skin.

"Good girl..." he murmured. "Now tell me, are you alone in this operation?”

"I...” she could feel herself speak, about to expose the entire operation, when another dancer, Honey, stepped into the booth. “Cherry, you’re needed at the bar.”

Safin's eyes met those of the dancer. His gaze hardened at the unexpected intrusion, but he let go of Y/N. He took a step back, looking between the two women. "Miss Y/L/N and I are still having our conversation."

Sensing an opportunity to escape, Y/N moved to the entrance of the booth before speaking, “I should go see what they need; it was a pleasure meeting you, Doctor Safin.”

She left before he could react, but instead of going to the bar, she went to the dressing room. Grabbing her bag, she escaped through the backdoors, hoping to reconvene with Q. As she moved through the parking lot, texting Q that she’d been compromised, a voice behind her made her freeze. “Going somewhere?”

As she turned, she came face to face with John, but his face was different from his usual personality. His eyes were dark and narrow as he stared at her. Her hand reached into her grab to grip her gun, and she spoke, “You drugged me.”

John chuckled at her accusation, clearly amused by her realisation. "Drugged you? I was simply making you comfortable.”

“What did you give me?” She asked, thankful the night air was helping to clear her head. “Where did you get it from?”

“A friend of mine hooked me up; it's... experimental, but most of the girls have enjoyed it.” John admitted no longer seeing the need to hide, taking a step forward.

As he began to approach, Y/N pulled her gun from her pocket, aiming at him. “Stay right there!”

John smirked at her, nearly laughing, “Give me a break; you’re just a stripper... what damage could you do?”

“You have no idea." She tried to steady her hand, but it still trembled slightly. She was coming down from the drug, but it’d still be a while.

Josh ignored the gun and began to run towards her, planning to ambush her and knock her down. He nearly reached her when suddenly his body fell and blood sprayed on her face. Y/N looked at her in confusion; she hadn’t fired.

Her eyes looked from her gun down to John's body, breathing heavily from the adrenaline. She looked up from the body and was face-to-face once again with Safin. He was holding a small silenced pistol, the muzzle still smoking.

Y/N shuffles on her feet slightly under his intense stare. He seems allured by the crimson splatter now staining her face, stepping closer, causing her to take a step back. She’s still breathing heavily and tries to catch her breath.

“Most people would thank the person that saved their life.” He spoke as he calmly handed his gun to his second in command.

“I had it handled.”

"Oh, I’m sure you did.” Safin replied almost mockingly.

A car’s horn sounded, causing Y/N to finally turn away from him; just down the road, she recognised the lights of Q’s car. Without speaking again, she sprinted down the street and flung the door open. Throwing her bag in, she was about to jump inside too, but she paused. Turning back for a moment, her eyes once again met the piercing blue of Lyutsifer Safin, and you both knew this wouldn’t be the last encounter.

As Y/N hopped into the car, she ignored Q’s rapid questions and closed her eyes. She sighed as she ran through the last hour through her head; her face was still wet with John’s blood, but she didn’t have the energy to wipe it off. Resting her head on the window, she fell asleep as her friend quickly drove them away from Las Vegas and towards their extraction point.

Safin watched as the car you entered pulled away and quickly raced from the scene; it was only as the car turned the corner did he finally look away. He briefly looked at the body on the ground before he began giving orders to his men. “Get rid of the body,” he stated as he began to walk away, “and find me anything you can on Y/N Y/L/N”.

AN: will possibly add a part 2 to this so stay tuned x

[thejujvtsupost]

Smitten: The First Date

It’s been way too long since I’ve updated this series and I have so many ideas for them coming up. Lmk if you wanna be added to the series taglist!

Notes: F!reader, first official date, anxiety and jitters, fluff. Just really fluffy.

“Satoru you’re already running late, I’ll be okay here.”

“The kids will understand. Do you want another blanket?” Gojo’s class started three minutes ago and he refused to leave his office until he was sure you were set.

You’d been taking up the couch in his office during the day for the last few weeks, it soothed some of Gojo’s anxiety about leaving you alone now that his energy was rubbing off on you.

You nodded your head and Gojo draped another throw over your body. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much longer before your leg healed so you could freely walk; maybe then your boyfriend would relax. (Unlikely) “The kids rely on their teacher to be on time, but thank you. We should bring in a space heater tomorrow, how did you get by without having one in here so far?”

“You’re always cold, and it’s not that bad usually but I don’t spend much time in here; too lonely. You know I’m not far and text me if you need anything at all. I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Go be a teacher before Yaga decides to hire someone with better attendance please.”

“Kiss first!” He exclaimed and kissed your lips before pulling away with a ‘mwah!’ sound, leaving you laughing at his cartoonish display.

You just shook your head at him while reigning yourself in, “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Are you sure about this, Kugisake? It looks like a lot with the flowers on the table too.”

“Girls love surprises, Sensei. Last time Fushiguro poked his head in she was asleep, this is literally the perfect time.” Nobara was putting the finishing touches on the makeshift dining table, while Yuuji and Megumi plated the food- something they took surprisingly seriously. Really they just wanted to impress you. “You should go get her before the food gets cold.”

Gojo followed the directions given to him by the 15 year old girl and took the short trip down the hall.

You were still sound asleep, and he heavily debated on postponing but the kids were indiscreetly spying on him. He couldn’t back out on it.

“Hey, baby, it’s time for lunch.” He knelt down to your level and rubbed your shoulder until you stirred- he hated waking you up. He hated it a little less when you gave him your half asleep smile.

“Lunch?” The coffee table was empty, usually he brought lunch with him.

“We’re actually going on a little mission, you and I. So up you go!”

“‘Toru! Crutches!” He had you in his arms and out of the room before you could even reach for them.

“Nope!” What did he mean no? How long was he going to carry you?

“Ta-da!” Apparently not long. Your boyfriend sat you in a chair and did jazz hands at the display in front of you- you put together then that it was a date. Your first date.

It was all arranged carefully and the food made your stomach grumble. “‘Toru this is wonderful! You didn’t have to do all this!”

“The kids helped, they’d kill me if I didn’t give partial credit.”

“I kinda figured since there’s three mysteriously floating heads spying on us in the doorway behind you.”

Gojo turned around, shooed them away with only some complaints, before closing the door and returned to your lunch date. “I know our relationship hasn’t evolved in the most traditional ways but I still wanted you to know that I care about the normal stuff too. A lot has been going on but I hadn’t even taken you out yet.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything-”

“I know,” Gojo sighed. “But I pulled you into a world you never knew existed and now you’re stuck with my baggage too. I think you’re doing great by the way, you haven’t even tried escaping.”

“Tried escaping- you’re ridiculous sometimes Satoru. Your world isn’t baggage, I know it can be cruel at times but it’s not all bad. It’s just a different experience, but I feel like I found my place with you all; I’ve never had that before…”

“You always have a place where I am, always.” His tone was serious enough to make your heart feel warm. Sometimes Gojo catches you off guard with how much he cares. His silliness is only one piece of the puzzle that is your boyfriend.

“Well I guess it’s good that I wanna be where you are, always.”

You both smiled at each other, and if you chose to ignore the sets of peeping eyes through the classroom window; then that was between you and the first years.

Prev <- Index -> Next

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio and see if they’re open!

[1d1195]

Traditional X

You can read the rest of Traditional here.

We are getting to the end of what I believe is the main storyline here. Maybe one or two more parts but I already have at least three little extras lined up in my head too.

Additionally, I added in the days because it was kind of getting all over the place and I wanted to make sure the timeline wasn't too confusing--especially since we're winding down on days until the internship is over. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Also, another reminder I don't know anything about running a business.

This part has some minor character death/trauma mentioned, sensitive topics, grief, angst, and I may or may not have cried a bit while writing, so that should put it in perspective I think. Try not to hate me at the end I don't think you're going to like it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to read.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him: I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Friday

Louis and Eleanor were lying on her couch (and one another) while she lay on the rug in front of the coffee table, facing the TV. Her phone vibrated with a message from Harry.

Can we chat sometime today?

That sounds like a terrible way to break up with me. Don’t tell your other girls that.

Don’t be ridiculous, kitten. All of it.

I’ll call you when Louis and El leave.

I’ll be waiting impatiently.

“Must be Harry. She definitely doesn’t smile at Niall’s messages like that,” Louis chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to her friends. They were watching a movie trying to decide where to eat or if they should order in. It was a regular, run of the mill day. They worked their Friday shifts and now they were lying about her pretty apartment that she hardly felt she’d been spending any time in. Mondays of course were still dinner out with Harry, Thursdays were movie nights at his place (and with any luck something a bit cheekier, now), and she spent many Saturday nights at his place sleeping beside him until one in the morning where they spoke quietly, candidly about anything. In the morning, she woke up to a rotation of pancakes, waffles, or French toast.

And kisses.

She woke up to a ton of kisses.

So, this Friday evening, she spent with Louis and Eleanor watching a movie that was so trashy it was wonderful. “How’s the job search?” Louis asked.

She frowned. The one sore spot that seemed to get sorer each passing day. “I really thought interning at Styles Incorporated was going to give me a leg up,” she sighed. “I don’t know... I’ve applied to some top places and they’ve either passed or ghosted me. Maybe I need to lower my standards.”

“Absolutely not,” Eleanor said immediately. “You deserve the top. You deserve it all,” she said.

Smiling, she looked at Eleanor, snuggled under Louis who was draped across her lap, and he winked at her. “You deserve the very best, babe,” he told her.

She shrugged and let out a sad sigh. “I don’t think these places think I do though,” she mumbled. “But it’s fine...I... I don’t know... I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to let it stop me now. Another month and I’ll be done.”

There was a pause. “Speaking of,” Louis began. “I’m told your program does in fact, have a graduation ceremony.”

She blinked surprised by the idea as if she didn’t already know. “What?”

“Harry told me that of course your college has one and you—”

She only vaguely heard the end of Louis’ sentence. She was feeling...anger? Anger at Harry? It didn’t seem like that was a reasonable conclusion. She had never been mad at him in the eight months she had known him. But her chest started to ache, and her blood felt hot, and she didn’t want to be mad at Harry, but she was sad he betrayed her trust in what she told him at one in the morning. Even if it was a silly little thing like making sure she had people at her graduation ceremony. She shook her head. “I’m not walking,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to.”

“Love, you worked so hard!” Eleanor gasped. “Please! It would mean so much to us to see you do it. We want you to have that.”

While the kindness and the meaningfulness of their words was not lost on her, she was serious in what she told Harry. But maybe she left out the part that she didn’t want to walk across the stage because it would remind her of the last graduation ceremony she attended. The last time she remembered a big happy family memory. “When did Harry tell you?” She asked quietly.

“He didn’t know for sure when it was...He was probing around, I think, because he might be trying to get you something,” Eleanor said so excitedly she was practically clapping. “Oh, I bet it’s going to be amazing whatever he gets you.”

“We weren’t that surprised, but we told him that you weren’t walking because there wasn’t a ceremony...and he told us there most assuredly was—which did surprise us. Most interns went in the past, so what’s the scoop on that, love?” Louis smirked, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It caught in her hair. “Lying to your best friends?”

She didn’t feel like rehashing all the sad details and explaining why she didn’t want to go. “I just didn’t want it to be a big deal,” she shrugged as casually as she possibly could. She should have just told them, but she didn’t want it to be a thing.

However, Louis sensed there was more to her hiding it, immediately. It was why he was her best friend. But he didn’t press. Maybe he would later when he could get her alone. Every once in a while, he managed to pick up on something in her voice that said something of her past was coming through. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Well, that’s fine. We’d still like to go. A couple pictures and that’s it. Then dinner. Nothing else. I won’t even get you a card to commemorate the day.”

“Oh, I’m getting you a card,” Eleanor nodded fiercely. “Gonna write you the mushiest proud letter there is to write,” she smiled wrinkling her nose at her.

So, how could she say no to them? They loved her so wholly it really was unfair to exclude them after their endless support. Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s Saturday, the 14th,” she rolled her eyes. Both pulled out their phones and tapped rapidly putting it in their calendars.

“Good,” Louis smiled. “Now let’s go get dinner,” he said kissing Eleanor on his way off her lap and helping her up as he nearly ran for the door all in one movement. Eleanor rolled his eyes.

“You picked him,” she reminded El. “In high school too,” she shook her head and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“I know, aren’t I lucky?” El said with a mocking dreamy tone in her voice but she meant it. It was obvious on her face, and she loved that about Eleanor most of all. Letting Louis be himself, unapologetically. Louis was the very best and she was glad someone else saw it too. Eleanor squeezed her arm and followed him. She took a second to take in the moment. She couldn’t help but smile so completely happy with her life for the first time in a very long while.

*

She woke up at some point in the night by herself on the comfiest mattress she ever owned all thanks to Harry. She peered through two of the slats on the blinds of her window to get a better estimate of the time without having to look at her phone in hopes of falling back asleep in a few moments. It was still pitch-black out, save for the moon illuminating the sky.

After tossing and turning for nearly five minutes without drifting off quickly, she decided she may as well make good use of her time. She grabbed for her phone. As expected, the clock told her that if they were sharing a bed, it was time to have her nightly chat with Harry.

When she came back from dinner and before she fell asleep this evening, she told Harry she was a bit tired. She would call, of course. But she might drift off while talking.

Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.

So now she texted him. I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.

The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.

Her heart was bursting. “Yeah?”

“M-hmm.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. She frowned. But it was like he knew she was frowning, because he continued, putting her mind at ease. “I would probably wake up from a coma t’hear your voice.”

She was so close to saying she loved him out loud. How could she not? But how would she be any different than any intern or companion before her? She was determined to wait until it was over. Until he stopped paying her and then she could at least tell him. So he knew and he could...decide if she was worth it. “Did you have a good day?” She whispered instead.

He yawned and she heard the rustling of his sheets. Sitting up against his fluffy pillows, she assumed. “S’alright,” it sounded as if he were shrugging it off. “I was in a crummy mood all morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she wished she went into his office earlier to see how she could have helped.

“Not something y’could have helped with, beautiful,” he had a smirk in his voice. It left her breathless that he could tell how she was feeling without seeing her. “Before y’worry.”

“Me? Worry?”

He chuckled that beautiful breathy laugh of his. She imagined his dimples, his glittering eyes. “Mmm...”

It was quiet for a moment and since he wanted to hear her talk, she thought she may as well get it out of the way. “So...” she sighed. “Louis and Eleanor found out about my graduation ceremony actually happening somehow...and they’re making me go.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, which told her he already knew that they had found out because of him. “I think y’should go, love.”

“I know. I’m going to.”

He sighed with relief. “That’s good.”

“If...” she swallowed awkwardly hating how she was even asking in the first place. “If you wanted to come...I think I get a ton of tickets...it is a Saturday so you wouldn’t miss wor—”

“Kitten, of course m’going t’be there,” he promised. “I’d sell m’company t’be there for you.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’d sell it t’Niall, maybe. But I’d still sell it.”

She giggled. “Do you think Niall would want to come, too?”

“Yes, absolutely. We wouldn’t miss it.”

She clutched the phone tighter to her ear enjoying the sound of Harry at the other end. The irritation she felt was only a nagging little bite on the inside of her head that she pushed away. Because really, this whole month had to be the most, and totally, happiest she had been in years.

*

Saturday/Sunday

“I blame myself for my brother’s death,” she said it softly. She didn’t even ask if he was awake. Either she somehow knew, or she wasn’t looking for him to answer. Harry frowned, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. It was a sudden comment, but it was the middle of the night. It was what they did.

“I don’t think that’s possible, kitten.”

“I went to some stupid school party. I didn’t want to get in the car with the person offering a ride home. So, he came to pick me up, no questions asked. Not a care in the world that it was almost two in the morning,” she shrugged against him. “A car hit us,” she said simply. It was silent for a minute. Harry hardly moved. “He must have seen it coming before I did... because he turned...so his side of the car took the brunt of the hit.” He squeezed her. “I tried to pull him out. Begged him to breathe,” she shook her head. “It was awful,” her voice cracked. Harry couldn’t imagine what she had seen. Couldn’t imagine what it took for her to get in the car. No wonder she walked everywhere.

“Y’don’t have t’tell me, love,” he told her, and he meant it. That was plenty. He could fill in the gaps if it meant she didn’t have to relive it again. He was sure she relived it every day.

“It’s why my parents hate me.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth. “They shouldn’t,” he fully believed that. He may not have judged them for the way they grieved but they lost one child in that accident. It easily could have been two and yet somehow, they chose to lose them both even though she was right there, alive and in need of love more than ever.

Harry wouldn’t say it to her now, but he would think part of his heart would feel like it was missing if she had been lost all those years ago. Whether he knew her or not.

“Sometimes I think they’re right to,” she sniffled. “I’d hate me, too. He was the best,” she whispered shakily.

“Kitten.”

He loved the dark and their little chats every day since they started. Today, he hated it. It was too revealing. This was hurting her. And he hated that most. “I should have died.”

“Thank God, you didn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. How many times had she said it to herself, her therapist, to Louis of all people? The only person who consoled her and not her parents...the only person who needed to be consoled as much as her was Louis. As he was breaking down, he was trying to keep her together. It wasn’t fair at all.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “It’s not.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

More silence. “I told you the dark is revealing.”

He smirked sadly. He wished he could tell her something just as revealing. But telling her he loved her so wholly when they weren’t in a relationship, not an actual one, after she was grieving for a moment in time, didn’t seem right. Harry wanted to tell her it was easy. Easy to love her. It was effortless having her in his life. He wanted to reveal something of equal weight. If only so she wouldn’t be sad. “I like getting t’know you,” he said instead.

“Even though I’m the reason someone died?”

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Someone else made a dumb decision, love. Of course, your brother would come t’help you. I’d do the same for Gem,” he promised. “S’in the brother handbook.”

“Louis said the same thing...he has a bunch of younger sisters...and me.”

“Louis would still do it for you, too; I’m sure.” They were silent again. He thought she fell asleep. Sometimes she would do that. So, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind forever. “I don’t want t’pry...What happened with your parents...after that?”

She shook her head. “Maybe another middle of the night talk. Not this one,” she mumbled.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course, love.”

“Thank you for...everything Harry. Really,” she yawned and nuzzled closer to his chest.

“Course, love,” he repeated and let her fall asleep beside him peacefully.

*

Wednesday

There was yelling from the other side of the door as she knocked, then immediately entered his office with tea. Right as she opened the door, he slammed the phone down to his desk. Then picked it back up and slammed it three more times into the receiver. She blinked and cringed with each hit. He slid a hand over his face and turned to face the window. Part of her thought he didn’t register she was in the room.

“Harry,” she said softly.

He shook his head. “Love, please jus’ leave the tea and go,” he grumbled. “M’gonna snap and I don’t want it t’be at you,” he sounded infuriated. Interns never seemed to work out because of his anger... She knew Niall worked hard to keep her away from Harry’s outbursts. Mostly because Niall knew Harry would never forgive himself if he ever broke her heart or scared her because of his job. But she still knew the stories. The whispers in the breakroom and by the copier about his anger weren’t something she could ignore. Sometimes Harry’s angry tone filled the whole floor. She bit her lip at his warning and nodded silently.

After she set the tea on his desk, she sat on the couch across the room. She sipped at her drink watching him tap on his phone screen searching for something. He turned back around after a moment looking at his computer and then she saw his eyes flicker over to her. “I know I told you t’leave,” his voice was icy. But she saw his gaze soften just a hair.

She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to set him off or make him any angrier than he already was. She was content to sit there...just wanted to wait there in case he needed her because that’s what she did. Even if he was going to pretend that she wasn’t there.

His phone was ringing from the other end while he called someone. “I need the file we looked at this morning...” A pause and she watched him clench his fist and he squeezed his eyes shut angrily. “Well, I don’t have it!” he snapped slamming his fist on the desk. “If I had it, I wouldn’t have called! Can’t you just do what I fucking ask and bring—"

She hurried to his computer after he slammed his fist down. Not caring even a little, when he hardly moved out of her way and continued yelling at the poor person at the other end of the line. The words he snarled into the phone didn’t reach her ears. With three clicks and a few taps it was on his screen. She stepped out of his way and sat back on the couch waiting for the next mini blowup. He put his phone down again as his eyes scanned the screen. He grumbled about something unintelligible under his breath and he tapped on his phone screen again and brought it to his ear for all of five seconds.

“Come here,” he said into his phone.

Within moments, Niall was there. He frowned seeing Harry’s anger but managed a quick wink at the sweet girl sitting quietly on the couch. She sipped her coffee while Niall went behind Harry’s desk. He looked at the screen for a few moments and she saw his face falter a bit; he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Well, we knew this was coming.”

Harry turned away and paced to the other end of the room. Hands on the back of his head. Niall scrolled on his screen and sighed. He glanced at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the pair of them since Niall stood next to Harry. “C’mere,” he said to her. She hurried back over. He pointed to several itemized lines and murmured a few things that she only had a vague understanding of due to her limited understanding of things that happened here at Styles Incorporated solely because in the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t been there that long, and she was just an intern.

She looked at the numbers, pursed her lips in concentration and did her best to calculate quickly. “Can you shrink this number?” She asked, pointing at the screen.

He glanced at Harry who looked ready to jump out the window. His head pressed to the glass taking deep, angry breaths. “No, darling.”

“How about this one?” She pointed to a different cell. He shook his head again. She looked over at Harry who was clearly distraught. Sighing, she thought for a few quiet breaths and Niall frowned as he scrolled. She thought back to all her classes, every lecture, and every assignment she had ever worked on. Unfortunately, she came to only one conclusion.

“You can have them file for bankruptcy,” she shrugged.

Niall pushed her behind him as soon as the beginning of that b-word left her mouth. Harry hated that word. At the same time, Harry spun rapidly, took three long strides, and menacingly glared through Niall in her direction. “Are you fucking serious?” He hissed but he was staring so angrily at Niall, but the expression was really meant for her. She gulped audibly. This had to have been the nightmarish things that previous interns spoke about. It made her stomach churn and she thought she might throw up. God bless Niall for standing in her way—she knew Harry wouldn’t resort to physical violence. Not even a little. She felt it in her soul. But part of her wondered if it would hurt less than his cutting, angry voice.

No wonder Niall never let her be around Harry when he was mad. This was terrifying.

“Harry—” Niall started.

She blinked in surprise at how angry he got. At her. But he did warn her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. “I am not having them file,” he growled.

Her face definitely turned red, and she swallowed nervously. “It’s your only option,” she whispered standing her ground anyway. He flung the cordless keyboard across the room. It smashed into the wall and many of the keys fluttered off in a heap against the wall. She flinched at the sound as he paced back to that side of the room.

“Darling, kindly shut it,” Niall whispered over his shoulder.

Harry paced and paced. Niall was still standing in front of her protectively as Harry grumbled to himself trying to make sense of it. “Why?” He practically barked at her. “Why’s it my only option?”

She took a deep breath. “The legal fees would equate to more than the bankruptcy payback.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. Niall even turned around and stared at her in surprise. “What?” She felt like this was a worse thing to say than bankruptcy. Niall stepped from in front of her and used the mouse to click through different screens on the computer, it took a moment because he no longer had a keyboard. He glanced at Harry and nodded.

Harry took a deep breath. “Can y’please explain that for me, love?” His voice was still tight with anger but at least he wasn’t barking at her or throwing things.

So, she did her best to explain that she remembered this once case she studied in her quantitative decision-making class. How it was expensive but kept the company afloat to file for a chapter of bankruptcy that allowed them to pay back the debt and keep going on if they could make it a few years. “She’s right...” Niall said clicking on the computer and gesturing to the screen. “Obviously,” he muttered under her breath.

Harry looked at the screen. While they did, she did some calculations on her phone. “So, they keep their assets?” He asked, looking up at her from the screen while Niall searched something on his phone to show Harry.

She nodded. “As long as they make this much,” she said and held her phone up to the two men.

Niall smirked. “I like her,” he said knowingly.

Harry sighed, still embittered. “Can you go buy me a new keyboard, love?” He asked.

Feeling like she had finally made a difference and helped a bit, she grabbed her coffee and nodded. “Sure,” she said softly.

“Don’t spend your own money on it either,” Harry said knowingly without looking up at her. She smirked to herself and left his office before she could say any more wrong things.

*

Since it was a Wednesday, she hadn’t seen Harry outside the office for two days. After getting the new keyboard and plugging it in, Harry was swamped for the remainder of the day. Lawyers, Niall, and others kept filing in and out of his office. At five in the evening, when most everyone was leaving, they were still coming and going. Niall hadn’t seen her in hours while she sat at her desk sending him files, answering calls, and taking messages. She knocked on the door before entering, carrying five or so pizzas and an assortment of drinks. Niall was the only one who noticed.

He winked at her, mouthed thank you, and watched as she left.

It was another hour before Harry noticed he was eating pizza...with pineapple on the slice. “Who got this?” He muttered.

“That cute intern of Niall’s,” one of the lawyers said.

“That’s your intern Niall? I’d be begging for her to alleviate the stress—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Niall said calmly. Harry was glad he had a bite of pizza in his mouth and Niall interrupted that sentence before it finished. After the day Harry had he wasn’t sure he had much self-control left to not physically attack someone—especially on behalf of her.

How did he not notice the sweet girl bringing pizza? He was certain even if the room was on fire, he would still take the time to notice her. He frowned. He had no idea she did this.

“I think this is enough for tonight, Mr. Styles,” someone said after hours of being there. Harry hadn’t looked at the time in ages. Since before lunch at least. He was only vaguely aware that it was after one at some point only because she brought his daily tea. He nodded silently, still upset about the day but also that he had no idea the perfect girl was there.

“You screamed at her, y’know,” Niall said condensing the pizza boxes. Placing the empty ones by the trashcan for the maintainers to take care of. After everyone left. Harry was helping clean up as well and packing his things.

Harry tended to get a little fuzzy on his consciousness when he was mad. “I told her to leave.”

“You’re stupid for thinking she would,” he rolled his eyes. “She’s quite brilliant,” Niall said knowingly. “When are you going to offer her a job?”

“It’s complicated,” he remarked. “I think if I create a job for her, people...will get suspicious.”

“Who cares?”

Harry worked extremely hard to get Styles Incorporated where it was so quickly. You didn’t become a thirty under thirty member without working hard. In all that time, Harry made every decision he could to the best of his ability. He always wondered if he made mistakes. He loved this company. It was his pride and joy.

The idea of losing pieces of it broke his heart. Since it happened twice within the last three months, and she managed to save both those pieces from falling to the wayside...

She seemed to know how much he loved his job, his legacy. He didn’t like her idea all that much today, even if it was good or his only option. Even when he yelled at her and snarled like she wasn’t the most special person he knew. She still voiced her opinion, and he knew that had to have been hard for her.

It hurt him to think of failing in even one little branch. But he couldn’t argue with her that it was the best option he had for this moment. “This was a brilliant idea,” one of the lawyers said as they typed furiously on their laptop. It was hours after the lovely girl left the new keyboard on his desk. Harry didn’t respond with anything but one little nod. “We should keep this in mind...would have saved you some money a few years ago,” she remarked with a gentle smile.

Niall saying “who cares” suddenly sparked something in him. Why did he care? She was brilliant. He didn’t have to convince anyone of that. It was obvious when she walked into any room, took a passing glance at whatever document they were discussing, any graph they were looking at and she casually pointed out inconsistencies and almost always managed to save him money.

“Have the other interns been like her?” He asked quietly. He had been so closed off, so worried about the reasons they were truly there... The thought of that horrible woman who made comments to the sweet girl about sleeping with him... Harry would feel terrible if he was so cynical about the entire intern process if a quarter of them were as smart as her.

Niall smiled at his best friend. The relief flooded him before Niall even spoke. “Harry, I don’t think there’s anyone like her.”

*

The knock on her door surprised her. She thought it might be Louis or Eleanor who couldn’t be bothered to walk the last five blocks back to their place after a late-night dinner. It was nearing ten and she was snuggled up on the couch with her book and music playing on the TV.

Harry was leaning against the opposite wall as she opened the door. “Oh, hi,” she said softly.

Harry stayed where he was, and he smiled at her, tiredly. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled.

She glanced down at her pajamas. A mismatching pair of shorts and a tank top. One sock on because only the left one was cold. Harry looked tired but beautiful as ever. His button-down sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his dress pants. The tie he had been wearing all day was gone, the button at his neck undone. His hair looked as if he ran his hand through it a few too many times but his tiredness seemed most evident on his face.

“Come in,” she said opening the door wider. “Do you need something to eat or drink?” She asked.

“No... had the pizza y’got us,” he murmured finding his way to the couch, he folded the corner of the page where she was reading and set the book on the coffee table. He waited for her to sit beside him and once she did, his head was in her lap. “M’sorry I screamed at you. Y’didn’t deserve that.”

“I knew you didn’t mean it,” she threaded her fingers through his hair and lightly rubbed at his scalp. “Is it all taken care of?”

“Thanks t’you,” he mumbled. She smiled softly, grateful she could ease his anger and allow him to sleep. She didn’t say anything for a bit and soon enough he was asleep in her lap. She reached for her book and read for the better part of an hour while he snored gently into her leg.

When an hour had passed, she gently pulled herself out from his head and began undressing him down to his boxers. It took effort but once he was mostly naked, she tugged him off the couch holding him up as much as she could with his tall frame to drop him into her bed. She curled up to him, grateful for the extra night with him. The first one at her place, at that.

The moon was bright even through the closed blinds, making his skin practically glow as she faced his sleeping figure. His arm beneath her pillow outstretched so she fit neatly beneath his chin if she was close enough. Their legs twisted together, his much longer than hers.

She was quiet for a bit, tracing the sparrows tattooed just below his collarbones. “They stopped talking to me,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite the standard middle of the night, but it was pressing on her mind because it was rapidly approaching the seven-year anniversary of that horrible day and it hurt so freshly, so sharply. Like it was only a week ago. She wasn’t sure Harry was even awake, but she said it anyway...maybe it was better he didn’t hear anyway. “Except for when they had too much to drink. Then they just yelled and yelled. At each other, at me...” she swallowed the pain down. “If I didn’t go out, he wouldn’t have gone to get me. We would still be a family...he was their prince,” she explained.

Her fingers drifted over his arm that rested gently with his hand at her hip. She traced the heart tattoo, the rose, and then the anchor at his wrist. “They stopped caring about me, but I couldn’t stop caring about them. I made dinner for them even if they didn’t always eat. If they did, they complained about it. I stopped eating with them. We didn’t watch movies together on Sunday evenings. We didn’t celebrate Christmas. Part of me thinks they only kept me there because they knew deep down, I was still a minor and they had to—I could ruin their lives worse by reporting them...” she bit her lip. “I don’t even think I would do that... At some point... they were the only people that ever took care of me... but then they just stopped and honestly, I don’t blame them.”

Harry didn’t make any note that he could hear but she kept going anyway. “So, I started taking care of everyone I crossed paths with...” she paused for a moment just to see if anything registered on Harry’s mind. It didn’t seem like it. But it made it easier for her to tell the story.

“When I turned 18, I invited Louis over to help me. I didn’t say with what. But the second he saw my parents...the ones that didn’t love me anymore... Louis moved me into his place... I felt so horrible, but I actually asked him to stay there just until... until I left for university at the end of the summer. He looked... betrayed. Like I let him down... He gave me the lecture of the century and Eleanor just braided my hair while he did. They made my favorite food. Neither of them said Happy Birthday once and I didn’t even care because for even just one day someone was taking care of me again,” she had done well up to this point not crying.

She sniffled and shook her head. She reached up and outlined Harry’s eyebrows, the shape of his nose. The curve of his lips and the jawline that ached her to the core. “Louis doesn’t talk about it, but I know he saw more than I ever wanted him to. I know he resents the way I hid. I think part of him wished I still lived with him. He insisted I stay the summers I came home from university,” she told the sleeping figure.

“But I got a boyfriend part way through university. We moved in quickly. Of course, I took care of him... and I didn’t mind. I liked it. He liked it. He was easy... food, sex, cleaning...” she mumbled. “But I still went to visit my parents because I couldn’t help it. I’ve never told Louis that. I didn’t tell my therapist that either...I’m sure she would be mad. And you know, I still go twice a month without telling anyone. Well, except you now... I don’t know why... I don’t know... I couldn’t leave them...they...they have to be in there still, right? The people that threw me princess birthday parties and put Band-Aids on my knees after a fall on my bike? Even after...after all of it...they’re my parents somewhere in there. Every time I go it’s just...yelling and hating me. I clean, make sure there’s food in the fridge, and then I leave,” Harry didn’t answer her. “I was supposed to stay the night at a hotel because I was supposed to move some of the last of my things...but it was a bad day. I just wanted to go home... I guess I got the sex part right with him,” she said with a smirk but without humor in her voice. “Just...not with me. Guess I didn’t do a good job there either,” she sighed sadly. “So... There it is. They just...acted as if I died too.”

Harry didn’t move a muscle. She smiled softly and kissed his cheek. “I think that’s everything,” she whispered. “I think you know everything now,” she told him. “Good night, baby,” she whispered tucking herself against his chest.

There was no movement for at least a full minute and then his arms came around her so tightly, he squeezed her like he was trying to press all the broken pieces back together. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that,” he pressed his lips to her temple and she closed her eyes tight trying to keep the tears from spilling over like a waterfall. “S’great t’know you,” he squeezed her again. “S’an honor t’know y’care ‘bout me,” he mumbled to her.

She nodded her head in recognition that she had heard him but if she spoke, she would either cry or, worse, tell him she loved him. So, she sighed deeply against his chest and slowly fell asleep while he pressed another kiss to her forehead. Like he was trying to heal her from the outside in just by kissing the front of her tired, sad brain.

Part of her thought that with Harry it might work.

*

Next Wednesday

Harry was going to lose his mind. When he started the day, he was so excited that he finally had good news for the sweet girl and was excited about their future. He couldn’t wait to surprise her during their movie night the following day, at home snuggled on the comfy couch.

Instead, he was totally blindsided by the fourth of the same type of phone call of that same day.

The call started out the same as all the other ones he’d been getting. They introduced themselves. “Aye, Harry. Zayn. How are you?”

Harry blinked in surprise at the voice at the other end. Zayn was CEO of his own company, located a few towns over called Malik Industries. Rarely did they interact with one another because their clientele was very different. But every so often at big black-tie shin digs and philanthropic events they’d run into one another. In this business, it was all about networking. He was hoping he wouldn’t get this call only because Zayn was closest to his age... which was closer to her age... “Right, good. Yourself?”

“Great. Listen, I’ll make this quick, I know you’re a busy guy. I have an application in front of me and it lists you and Niall as references, and I’m used to seeing Niall’s name... but I had to ask you. You never give your name as a reference.” His heart stopped because he could only guess who the application belonged to.

She applied here too?

“Harry?” He asked. “Did I lose you?”

“Uh...” he shook his head trying to regain his composure. He was absolutely confused. She didn’t say anything about applying to any of these places and this was the fourth phone call he had to sit through with an aching heart. “No, sorry. Untimely email,” he muttered quickly. He wasn’t even facing his computer.

“Right, I understand. I’ll keep it short... you think she would be good here?”

His breath caught in his throat. She would be good anywhere. But the idea of not seeing her smiling face each afternoon carrying tea in her hands to his office (not that she would continue to have to do that if she worked here full time) was the last thing Harry wanted. “Uh...yeah, she...she would be great.”

There was a pause and a short chuckle. “I know you don’t usually do these reference calls, but there’s usually a bit more than that.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat trying to get the words to spill out. How could he tell her she was perfect? How could he just give her away? He wanted her there all the time in every facet of his life. She made everything better. “I know, I know,” Harry shook his head again in an attempt to get his verbal processing to work again. “She’s perfect. She can do anything. Fit in anywhere. If she doesn’t know how t’do something, she’ll figure it out. Brilliant. Truly. It’s cutthroat out there and she still manages t’be an angel. Doesn’t even bat an eye in the face of adversity. She’ll keep morale up by decorating for holidays and she makes the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.”

“See that’s what—”

“You can’t have her,” Harry interrupted flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought she applied because there—”

“Yes. No. I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “She did apply. She would be perfect. You can’t question that. Seriously. Y’would probably hand her the keys t’your office if she joined y’in any capacity. I want t’do that somedays...but I want t’keep her here.”

“I see,” Zayn sounded agreeable. “She sounds quite special. Her recommendations, her transcript, everything is incredible. She seems like a wonderful asset Harry. Are you sure you have room for her?”

He prickled at the notion that he wouldn’t make room for her. “Yes,” he said definitively.

“Alright. Well, good for you. I hope she’s happy there. I’ll take her application any time in the future if you see a reason she needs to go elsewhere.”

Harry didn’t see it happening ever. “Sorry t’disappoint.”

“Not a problem at all. You know a good one when you see them, I get it. Have a good one,” the call ended abruptly. As if on cue, she knocked and opened his door at quarter past the hour. Clockwork. She closed the door quickly.

“Hi baby,” she winked as she whispered the pet name at him. “Brought your tea. And I got us some cake pops. I think they’re yummy. Maybe we could try to make them from scratch this weekend.”

There is no way she could just go. His heart fluttered at her words, and he smiled. He felt the ache in his chest melting away as it always did when she was around while he was upset. “Whatever you want, kitten.”

Harry didn’t tell her about the good news during movie night. He was too upset about all the phone calls.

He didn’t tell her while they were making cake Pops on that Saturday either.

*

When she chose to just exist that weekend a couple months ago, and not remember anything that happened over her horrible couple of days and not think about her parents, she did catch up with Louis and Eleanor that following Tuesday. Harry watched from her kitchen as the pair of them cooed over her and she let some tears fall.

“Your mum’s not having a memorial,” Eleanor told her. So that was that. It was over.

“Oh,” she said like it was a surprise.

Louis glanced at Eleanor and pursed his lips. She combed her hair back and gave her another hug while Louis pressed his hand to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Louis glanced at Harry and shrugged. Harry thought that meant her mum wasn’t having a memorial that she could attend. It hardened Harry’s heart while he set some mugs of tea on her counter out for the three of them.

The lawyers managed to get some information about her inheritance. The house was already in a trust under her name. “Harry, we’re grasping a bit at straws here. We don’t practice family law,” he reminded him during their next movie night.

“I know, I know. M’sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck while he watched from the kitchen as the girl swayed quietly on the porch swing. At the end of February, she was still insistent on sitting in the freezing cold. “I jus’ want t’make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think this woman cares,” he said bluntly.

Harry frowned and ended the phone call before heading to the swing with mugs of hot chocolate. She lifted the blanket, a beanie hat almost falling into her eyes as he slid in beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder and for the moment Harry just let her live knowing that as long as she stayed here, she was cared for.

Which is why he was so happy when the lawyers finally informed him that she would have the house... eventually. The life insurance policy was never changed out of her name, and it wasn’t like they could change it now. All of it was something that could ease the ache of the worry she had.

Harry attended the memorial service, too, a week or so after that. He told her and Niall he was attending to business out of town. Niall looked at him suspiciously and he felt bad lying to the sweet girl but he...he wanted to...well he didn’t even know what he wanted. He just wanted to know what her parents were like.  There were many people there. He was surprised that they still had friends after cutting off their sweet daughter. But Harry was trying his best not to judge their mourning.

He saw Louis and Eleanor there gently consoling her mother without it truly reaching their eyes. Louis saw Harry at the edge of the mourners at the cemetery, he gave him a succinct nod and then tilted his head discreetly to the right.

When everyone left, he headed to where Louis gestured, totally alone.

He read the dates on the stone, did the math, and he sighed. “I’ll do anything for her,” he knelt and pulled some weeds away from the flowers laid there. Quietly to her brother’s grave, he whispered “I promise.”

*

Monday

Now seemed like it was too late to tell her anything about the good news. She had seemed off all evening. Maybe it was the stress of graduation and her internship. The office had been so busy lately they hardly had a moment to have tea in the afternoon.

It was his own fault, however. When all said and done.

Now, he was walking her home from dinner. Well, actually, he was nearly running after her. She refused to get in the car. Despite how late it was. So, Harry followed her on foot. She was fast, even in the little heels she wore. The driver was close behind on their trail as well.

“I didn’t ask for you to do that!” She snapped at him. She never snapped at him. Not once. And there were plenty of times she could have over the last eight and a half months. But he thought he was being helpful. Figuring out the stuff with her mum, finding a way to finally split Niall’s position. All of it.

He thought things were going so well and even with the end of her internship coming up at the end of the next month, he was so hopeful for their future in so many ways. He didn’t really know what went wrong. He kept the conversation light trying to figure out her slightly soured mood. It didn’t seem completely fair, but he was heartbroken that he made her upset.

But it was the email that was the final straw. She received it in the middle of dinner. Mr. Malik stated there must have been miscommunication as she would be staying with Styles Incorporated. He would love to have her, feel free to apply in the future if so needed, but of course, she should stay where she’s comfortable.

Harry was in mid-conversation with the waiter, ordering dessert. Something she was reallylooking forward to when she read through the email. But the second she finished it she was angry and didn’t want dessert. She called Niall quickly, while Harry was still chatting, holding one finger up as she put her phone to her ear.

He winked at her, continuing his conversation and didn’t mind at all whether she was using her phone nor questioning it. He’d done so many times before and she was always so kind and patient about it. If he did question it, so shortly after the email, maybe he would have seen it coming. But he didn’t...he didn’t see it coming at all. “Did you...talk to Mr. Malik?” She asked him when Niall answered.

“No, darling, I haven’t heard from him or...or anyone yet about your applic—”

“Never mind,” she hung up. The second she uttered the name of another company Harry’s voice died in the conversation he was having, and he directed his attention to her.

“Did you?” She asked, point blank.

“Yes,” he said. “I told him you would be a perfect fit.”

She blinked. “Then why does he think I’m staying at Styles Incorporated?”

Harry frowned. “Don’t you want to?”

She wasn’t going to lie. “I mean...yes...but don’t you think you should have told me you were going to hire me before—”

“I just figured—"

“Harry...I’ve been rejected or ghosted from everywhere I applied to. I’ve been crying to Niall so stressed and anxious that I’m not good enough and—have you been telling everyone in the area?”

“You’ve been crying about—?”

“Harry,” she snapped.

He was surprised by her tone. “Of course...I want t’keep you,” he whispered.

“Well, what if I can’t,” her voice cracked, her hand fiddling with her silverware on the plate.

“What are y’talking about? Of course, y’can,” he said quickly reaching across the table for her hand but she pulled it back. “Kitten.”

“I don’t want dessert,” she said and stood up and marched out of the restaurant. He hurried to throw money on the table and follow after her.

When they made it to her apartment building, she was huffing. She was angry the entire way there not listening to Harry call after her, not stopping even though he begged. Harry felt like he was losing her with every step. When they reached her door, he tried again to console her as best he could. “Love, I just wanted to hel—”

“I know you feel entitled to everything I am and do because of what we are, but I didn’t ask you to do any of that! Stay out of my business.”

“Kitten,” Harry felt crushed, like she stole all the air out of her lungs.

“I know you told Louis and Eleanor about my graduation ceremony, and I let it slide... because part of me is hoping they forget that it’s in two weeks because right now, I don’t want to go. It hurts to think about my brother’s ceremony—the last time we were a family. And I know you had your lawyers talking to my mom because she called me today all up and arms about how I’m selfish to even take what she’s giving me and of course I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. I thought it was a prank,” Harry was silent as he listened. “I know you have your driver follow me around whenever I’m out walking. Not even at night,” still quiet. But he dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. It did sound controlling when she was so angry. “On top of all that, I hadn’t gotten any notice about my student loans so I called my servicer to inquire. And guess what?”

Harry’s lips pressed together. He didn’t say a word. Because of course he already knew why she didn’t get any info about her loans. “Now this? Harry, I’ve worked my butt off to do this on my own and you just...told every company within a twenty-mile radius that I’m staying, and I didn’t even get to know that I could do it on my own? That all my hard work and all those hard things I had to face on my own just meant nothing? I thought I failed so miserably.” She was crying so hard, and she wished she wasn’t but every time she felt anger coursing through her it was an unfortunate consequence. Harry just wanted to console her and make it stop. He felt so terrible.

Every day she showed up to work and made everyone’s life so much easier. She baked brownies for the breakroom, made copies for anyone that asked because she was the only one who could stop it from jamming, and of course she went out every day, snow, sleet, hail, or rain to get himself and Niall their Starbucks order. She took care of him when he was sick and saved such a large chunk of his company, he could never repay her. All he wanted to do was help her the way she helped everyone else.

“Love,” he whispered reaching for her. She stepped out of his way.

“Just go,” she snapped as she slammed the door shut in his face. His heart felt broken, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Because as always, she was right. He just...did everything for her because he could. Really because he wanted to, but he should have at least asked.

He could hear the sniffles and her tears through the door. He waited a minute listening to her gasping breath hoping something in his head would click. Something would appear in his mind that he could say to her. But in times like this, it was usually her that knew what to do. So of course, he couldn’t ask her. As he turned to leave, he heard her croaked voice whispering Louis’ name into the phone.

--

taglist: @tpwkstiles @matildasatellite @jessitpwk @jerseygirlinca @stylesfever @tiredinwinter @ameerakane20 @kimmi-kat @avasversion @youcouldstartacult @likeapplejuicenpeach @manrocket-mo @golden-hoax @harryssky1 @michellekstyles @soachibstel1 @morklee02 @loving-hazz @harrysflorencex @cherrycolas-things @emma34501 @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @foreverxholland

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

[concentrateandpush]

We have a tradition.. in our group of friends. Every birthday we have a sleepover, we’ve done this since we were 4, that won’t change, the three of us get along too well. We’ve always told each other secrets, funny stories, our crushes, but there is one secret I’ve kept from my friends.

It’s late, 1AM but we usually try to stay up as late as possible. Carly’s Mom is at work and her dad passed away when she was little. Eloise is a little tipsy, as usual, seeing as Carly’s Mom has a cupboard of Malibu and vodka. I was tempted not to come, I’ve been cramping all day but I know how mad they would be, plus with the snow, what else is a 9 months pregnant single girl going to do on a Saturday.

I didn’t want to tell them that I’m pregnant because they’d talk about how Steve is a bad influence and how I was a virgin until I met him, how he stole me away for one sleepover last year, they’re right but I don’t need it. I just thought keeping it to myself would be a good idea, until now. “I.. I just need to use the bathroom” I mutter under my breath as I get up and run off.

Fumbling for my phone, I text Mom “I’m at Carly’s, come get me” but the service is down.

The pain is building, kind of like a period pain but in my back and my stomach. I find myself rubbing my belly fast and hard as if it’ll help, but I can’t get it to stop.

“Hey, Carly? You okay?” Sarah asks as she knocks the door, Sarah is Carly’s older sister. “Carly??” She asks again. “Uh.. it’s Lena” I admit, trying to control my breathing.

“Oh, Lena, are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath?” She asks and I quickly get myself together before opening the door. “Sorry” I say quietly. She heads in and I hear her making noises “Lena, did you pee on the floor?” She asks, disgusted and I freeze, realising my waters broke. “I-I’m sorry I can clean it up” I say before heading in and grabbing some paper, kneeling to wipe it. I let out a small groan as I feel a twinge in my left lower abdomen.

“Lena, are you okay?” She asks and I nod “f-fine” as I wipe up. “Lena, I’ve known you since you were practically a baby and something is up” she probes and I shake my head, wishing for the pain to not come as hard as I know it will. I find my hand gripping the toilet seat as I start to contract. “P-please don’t tell them” I mumble, taking deep slow breaths.

“Tell them what?” She asks, lowering herself to me, looking at my face and down to my belly. “I..” I start and she shakes her head “Lena.. you’re not? You’re fucking pregnant?” She exclaims. “I knew you’d gotten chunkier but.. oh sweetheart, you’re-“ she stops and realised “you’re not in labour? Right?” She asks and I plead for help with my eyes.

“Shit, okay.. right” she nods “Lena..” she sighs “what are we going to do with you..” she says softly before taking me into her arms. I lean in and just let her hold me before it gets worse and I start involuntarily panting, gripping her shirt. “Okay, okay Lena, I need you to sit back for me” she says calmly and I shake my head “I’m scared, it hurts, it’s coming” I mutter.

“Right, I know you don’t want them to know but they will, you’re not going to push a baby out quietly and you need comfort, we’re going to get you into the living room and onto the couch” she sighs and I just agree, I need to get it out. “Carly! Eloise?!” She shouts and they come in, seeing the room and cluelessly staring.

“Okay, Lena is in labour, which I know is a big shock for you both, but we need to help her deliver this baby” she explains “can you girls help me bring her to the couch?” She asks and they just do as she says, helping me up. Once I’m on my knees, I get another contraction, one much worse than the last and it doubles me over. “Nnggg” I grunt to myself, clutching my well hidden bump.

“Lena is this a joke?” Carly asks and I just shake my head, blowing breath into the air as I spread my legs under me “pressure” I mumble, looking to Sarah “so much pressure” I cry. “Couch” Sarah demands. Before I know it, they’re carrying me in and getting me on the couch which has been turned into a bed for the night.

“How did you hide this?!” Eloise asks and I just shake my head, gripping my leg and pulling it back, clothes still on. “Wait, wait a minute” Sarah says panicked as she can see I’m about to push with all my mite. “I can’t!” I cry out as I start to bear down in my pants, grunting and shaking like a leaf. “Lena!” She shouts and I stop, reaching down to hold myself, letting her strip me naked.

The second her eyes see my opening, they widen and I see the fear. “That’s a head” Carly says, shocked and Eloise gazes “that’s a head!?” She asks and Carly nods “look, the pink thing inside, a head” she says confidently and I just start to sob. “You were right about Steve, he wanted me to get rid of it but I just couldn’t” I cry. “Okay, okay, we understand, Lena, we do” Carly sighs as she comes next to me, wiping my forehead.

“It’s coming” I grunt as I grip my thigh, ready to experience this whole situation. “Okay, deep breath and push” Sarah tells me and I nod, pulling my chin to my chest as I just scream the baby down. I feel every single centimetre of the head coming down, ripping me, tearing me open. “More” she says quickly and I shake my head, letting go of my legs as I try to catch my breath.

“I can’t do this.. I can’t do it” I cry, rubbing my bump in small circles. “You have no choice Lena, the roads are covered and you have a baby coming out of you, you have to do this, you need to push it out” Sarah says sternly. “You’re so strong, Lena.. your body is meant to do this and you can absolutely push your baby out, just push” Eloise smiles reassuringly and I sigh, already exhausted.

I gulp a deep breath down and try to grab my thighs, pulling my legs up until Eloise grabs one and Carly the other “Push your baby out!” Carly smiles and I try, so fucking hard, to no avail. I’m sweating, I’m crying and my whole body is throbbing but I just can’t get it out.

“Why can’t I do it?!” I wail and Sarah sighs “patience.. you’re getting there” she smiles and I just look to the girls, my eyes begging them to keep my legs up “here it comes” I whisper softly as I start to lean into it. “Gaahhh!” I cry, pushing as hard as I can for as long as my body will allow. “Give.. birth!” I cry out, reaching down and pulling myself open.

“It’s not working” Sarah explains as I hopelessly reach for my Stanley for a sip of water. “I need you to stand..” she sighs and I nod, getting up and standing, opening my legs to make room for baby to come out. “So you’re going to squat a little with the push” she says and I nod, grabbing onto Carly as I swing my hips. “Come on baby, please let me push you out.. it’s just pushing it’s not that hard, I can get you out, I will push you out” I whisper as I pep talk myself.

“Heee heee, hoo hoo, heee heee, hoo HOO” I breathe as I start to feel it coming. My legs part naturally as I begin my pushing attempt, holding onto Carly as I feel my vagina spread. “It’s working!” Eloise smiles and I nod, reaching down to feel my baby’s head.

“Holy fuck!” I cry as I feel burning “fuck, fuck, fuck!” I mutter. “You’re crowning!” Sarah smiles and I just find myself going to my hands and knees, moaning like a cow. “That’s it, vocalise all you want” she smiles as Eloise rubs my back. “Please, please get it out” I moan, shaking as I try to hold myself up.

“Lena, it’s time to push” Carly tells me as I find myself almost falling asleep, exhausted from all the work I’ve put in so far. I just bear down, trying to push through the pain. The noises I’m making are animalistic and in all honesty I’m embarrassed. “Focus, Lena” Sarah demands and I nod, trying to find words to say I need to move.

I fall into a position on my side, holding my leg up and pushing for around an hour, it’s unbearable. Until finally, “the head! It’s here, the head is out” Eloise exclaims. “Push! Push!!” Sarah screams and I do exactly that, groaning, grunting and sweating as I feel my baby escape my body and come into the world.

[loserlesbianlottie]

Parties and Practices

You’re Laura Lee’s brother, and ever since you saw Jackie Taylor, you’ve been hopelessly in love. You finally make a move at a party, and are convinced she thinks you’re a total nerd.

jackie taylor x transmasc reader (reader referred to as Laura Lee’s brother), fluff, general silliness, reader is a nerd (affectionate), jackie’s into it lol

note: this was a request but i unfortunately deleted the ask !! sorry !!

You casually hum a tune as you work on your Algebra II homework in the stands of the Wiskayok High School soccer field. Practice has yet to start, so you still have some time to focus. You started the tradition of driving your sister, Laura Lee, to her practices as soon as you got your license. You liked to think it was due to your being a fantastic twin brother, but the truth is that you’ve been head over heels for the team captain ever since you first saw her.

You remember it like it was yesterday. It was Laura Lee’s first game in freshman year, and you were excited to see her playing finally. Sure, you were slightly annoyed to lose your Saturday afternoon to sitting and watching sports, but you didn’t mind because you loved her. Then, she ran onto the field. Jackie Taylor. The prettiest girl you had ever seen.

Jackie was sweet to everyone she talked to. She was popular, rightfully so, and could make friends with just about anyone. And you were terribly, hopelessly in love with her even though you’d had only one conversation. You remember every detail vividly, despite how mundane it was.

(“Hey! I’m Jackie,” she greets, sweat glistening against her forehead, “You look familiar. Where have I seen you?”

Your face flushes, and you stutter out a response, saying that you’re Laura Lee’s brother. She smiles her beautiful, contagious smile and tells you it's good to meet you officially. Then, she runs back onto the field to continue practicing.

You stand there stupidly for a good couple of minutes.)

You’re out of your thoughts when you hear a whistle blow. It seems like practice is starting; that, and you’re not finishing your Algebra homework anytime soon. You shove your things into your bag, staring at the fields below you. You spot Laura Lee quickly, smiling and waving, and then search for Jackie. You find her quickly, her hair in a cute ponytail, and wearing the same uniform as everyone else. You’re unsure how she looks so pretty in gym clothes, but you ignore that thought as they begin drills. You watch intently.

They do routine drills, warm-ups, and a practice game; before you know it, it's time to go home. You wait in the stands for Laura Lee to finish showering and changing. She greets you happily, trailing behind you on the way to your car. However, you’re both stopped before getting in by the one and only Jackie Taylor.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Your heart flutters, and your cheeks darken.

“Yeah?”

Laura Lee grins at your voice cracking. You shoot her a murderous look, to which she rolls her eyes playfully.

“I wanted to invite you guys to a party on Sunday night! It’s at my house, and it’s just going to be Yellowjackets and friends or family of the team, so it’ll be pretty lowkey. Hope to see you there!”

And with that, she skips off to Shauna’s van, happily sitting in the passenger seat. You watch as they drive off, a lovestruck look on your face.

“So…are you going to start driving, or…?”

You feel your face burn, and you whirl around to glare. Laure Lee laughs playfully, clarifying that she means no harm; you can’t stay mad at her long, anyway. It’s been this way since you were both young kids.

“So, do you want to come?” Laura Lee asks, and you slowly nod, slightly embarrassed about the situation. You’ve never really been one for parties, much preferring the safety of your home to drinking in a stranger’s. However, the idea of a party only with your sister’s friends and their families doesn't sound intimidating, so you decide to go.

You realize quickly that Jackie may have stretched the truth a bit to get Laura Lee to come, as the house is bustling, filled to the brim with your schoolmates. You swallow nervously, and Laura Lee shoots you a sympathetic glance. She assures you she’ll be right by you and won’t leave your side, but she quickly gets distracted and pulled off somewhere by one of her friends. You groan when she doesn’t return in the next fifteen minutes.

Okay, you think, I can do this. I can be social and relaxed—piece of cake. You sigh heavily and shuffle over to the kitchen to get a drink. You’re pretty sure that your parents will have a heart attack upon finding out you've drank, but right now, your main focus is on surviving rather than pleasing your family. While in the kitchen, you nervously look over the drinks. You feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn to look, hoping it’s Laura Lee, but are instead faced with Jackie. You already feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Hey,” she slurs sightly, clearly having been drinking, “I’m glad you could make it!”

You blink once, then twice, and look around. You’re shocked she’s talking to you, of all people. Then you mutter an anxious agreement to whatever she just said because, in all honesty, you lost focus with her beautiful gaze upon you. She smiles, giggling slightly. The next hour or so is a blur. You find yourself rambling about anything and everything that comes to mind, barely stopping to let her comment on whatever you’re blabbering about. You know that talking excessively is your nervous habit, but you just can’t stop. She listens, however, looking extremely interested in…whatever you’re saying.

She nods when you make a point, laughs when you joke, and by the time Laura Lee and you leave, you’re confident you’ve made a fool of yourself. She was likely only being kind…you groan and bury your face in your hands.

And then you get a text. It’s a simple ping! sound, and at first, you think it's a wrong number, but you’re shocked to read the screen.

Unknown Number

hey! it’s jackie! loved your rambling, very cute

is that usually how you win girls over? ;)

Oh my god. Jackie Taylor had your number. Jackie Taylor was flirting with you.

“You’re welcome!” You hear Laura Lee say in a sing-song voice before she leaves to go to bed for the night.

[kingofpopmj]

Conscious Decision

Part 3

July 15th, 1988

*Y/N’s POV*

Katherine and I spent the day together exploring London. She suggested we do some shopping before having lunch. Of course the moment she pulled me into a bridal boutique I knew she had an ulterior motive.

“This would look stunning on you!” Katherine complimented as she pointed out the gown on display.

“Mama Kay, that’s a wedding dress.”

“You should try it on.” She cheered. “It’ll be fun!”

“It’s beautiful but I think I’m going to pass on that.” I laughed off her comment.

“Michael was looking for you last night. He did not buy the jet lagged excuse.”

“Well, I’ll see him tonight.” I said as I guided her towards the exit.

“He fired Tatiana.” She said nonchalantly.

“What?”

“She’s a sweet girl but her crush on Michael was getting out of hand. My poor boy was so embarrassed. He had no idea she would do that.”

“Is he okay?”

“I think seeing his best friend would have helped.”

“Oh you’re making me feel bad on purpose!”

“You’re always the first person he runs to when something goes wrong. Yesterday, however, was the first time you weren’t there. It did a real number on him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“My boy is experiencing the beginning stages of losing the woman he loves. He is in no way shape or form fine.”

“He doesn’t love me in that way and he’s not losing me. I just needed a break to be alone and avoid any further damage to our friendship. I didn’t mean for my actions to come off as selfish. I’m sorry.”

“Here we go again with all the friendship hoopla.” Katherine rolled her eyes shaking her head. “You are not just friends—”

“We almost kissed. On opening night.” I blurted out. “He ran away from me and hid from everyone.”

“Oh, I see.”

“That’s why I said I think we were wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.” She said sternly ignoring my confession. I couldn’t help but laugh at her stubbornness.

“Y/N! There you are!” Michael shouted standing from his make-up chair. “Finally!”

“Your mom and I had a girls day.” I smiled hugging him. He kindly asked for the room and his entourage dispersed.

“How is the jet lag?” He asked suspiciously.

“I’m fine. I just need some rest.”

“You didn’t even stay for our after show ritual.”

“Michael—”

“It’s tradition!” He spoke over me. “Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t feel well.” It was partly true. He continued to study my demeanor.

“Tatiana.” He stated. “I didn’t— she wasn’t supposed to do that. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”

“I’m really sorry that happened. You didn’t deserve it.”

“You know... every love song I write is about you.” He muttered.

“What?” I stared at him but he didn’t repeat himself. He closed the gap between us pulling me into his chest.

Each time the wind blows

I hear your voice so

I call your name

Whispers at morning

Our love is dawning

Heaven's glad you came

You know how I feel

This thing can't go wrong

I'm so proud to say I love you

Your love's got me high

I long to get by

This time is forever

Love is the answer

Michael softly sung into my ear as he swayed us back and forth. He held me for a moment longer before leaving a lingering kiss on my temple.

“Michael?” I spoke gently.

“I have to finish getting ready. Can you help with my hair? You’re the only one that does it the way I like.” He smiled pulling me across the room to his vanity.

I watched him as he excitedly gathered all the tools and products I would need. Every time I think we’re on the same page he throws a curveball. It makes it even worse that he just changes the subject as if nothing happened. As I began styling Michael’s hair my mind drifted off to how he makes me feel. When he holds me like that it’s impossible to hide my emotions. Michael is my home. When he holds me I feel complete. He’s the only person I truly feel safe with.

“I love hearing you sing.” I said as I fixed his hair.

“Thank you.”

“I love that song. It’s really beautiful.”

“It’s one of my favorites. It’s like it was in my head my whole life and all I needed to do was write it down.” he met my gaze through the mirror. “It’s inspiring being in love.”

“In love?” I broke our eye contact and tried to focus on his hair. “That’s sweet.”

“Are you in love?”

“Michael—”

“Because I think you are.” He turned to me placing his hands on my hips. “Please tell me that you are.” He stared at me expectantly as he rises from his seat.

Here we are again.

Our chests became connected as I felt his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt leaving a strong tingling feeling along my hips. We were admiring each other’s lips and yearning for what came next.

“I am.” I finally spoke.

“Y/N, I—” there was a loud obnoxious knock on the door as it swung open.

“Oh—oh— I—I’m so sorry” Greg stood there with an apologetic look on his face. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay.” Michael said. “What is it?”

“Princess Diana is on her way. They want us all in place for her arrival.”

Michael looked at me and I gave him a nod. He looked nervous as his lips met my cheek and he hugged me tightly.

“We will talk later.” He stated hopefully as he moved towards the door.

“I’m so sorry.” Greg mouthed before closing the door leaving me alone.

“This next song is very special to me. It comes from my heart.” Michael spoke as the lights began to dim. “I’m going to perform it a little differently tonight. I hope you don’t mind.” His beautiful voice filled the stadium.

I just want to lay next to you for a while

You look so beautiful tonight

Your eyes are so lovely

Your mouth is so sweet

A lot of people misunderstand me

That's because they don't know me at all

I just want to touch you

And hold you

I need you, God I need you

I love you so much

Michael’s intimate intro to ‘I Just Can’t Stop Loving You’ caused chills to travel down my spine. The longer I kept my eyes on him the more I thought about our moment in his dressing room earlier. There was so much emotion behind it. I just wanted to know what he was thinking. I took a moment to look out into the full stadium. The audience was lit up with thousands of lighters hovering over the sea of fans.

Wow.

We all gathered backstage after the show to celebrate. I didn’t realize how many people would be here or how loud it was going to get. Nonetheless, I was really enjoying myself, I was sitting with the band when everyone suddenly went silent. I followed their stare and saw the man of the hour.

“Dance with me.” Michael held his hand out and I gladly accepted.

“You’re my favorite dance partner.”

My comment went unnoticed as Michael stared off. His grip on me tightened as we danced in silence. He placed my arms further around his neck pulling me closer to him. Two songs went by without a word from him.

“Michael?” I poked his cheek getting his attention. “What’s going on up there?”

“Nothing.” He spat. He never snapped at me. It made me feel awful. His coldness triggered me deeply making me feel insignificant.

“What’s your problem?”

“I asked you to dance with me why do you feel the need to pester me.” I stepped away immediately looking at him as if he was a stranger. “Y/N—” he said softly reaching for my hand.

“You’re being so ugly to me.” I shook my head walking away leaving him standing alone. I shoved the dressing room door open swiftly gathering my belongings.

“Jet lagged again.” I heard Michael’s mocking voice behind me.

“No actually at the moment I’m extremely fed up with you.”

“Me?”

“Yes you!” I pointed at him as my vision became blurry. “Why would you ask me to dance just to speak to me like that? You’ve never treated me like that before.”

“No! I wanted to dance with you because- I just- some of the guys from the crew were talking about you. I couldn’t- I tried to keep my cool but they were saying— I didn’t like it—”

“Wait.” I wiped my eyes. “You asked me to dance so no one else could?”

“I—” he was frozen in place and I felt myself begin to tremble from how angry I was.

“You know what Michael. How about you figure out what you want because I can’t handle this anymore. One minute you’re serenading me asking me if I’m in love and the next you’re acting like this. You keep saying all these things and I have no idea how I’m supposed to take them because you never explain. It feels like you’re toying with me and it isn’t fair. Do you know how terrifying it is to be in love? The thought of losing that person destroys you because he’s one of the most important people in your life. Every time he gives you a shred of hope that he may feel the same he disregards it just as quickly- and it doesn’t even matter because to me- to me he is everything. He’s my everything. This back and forth is- it’s mentally exhausting Michael, but I’m still here.” I frantically caught my breath, Michael’s wide eyes brought me to the realization that I said way too much. He remained silent. I wanted to evaporate. Silence. I just shook my head brushing past him.

Nothing was going to be the same ever again.

July 16th, 1988

A bright golden beam of sunlight streamed through the curtains seeping through my eyelids. I sighed pulling a pillow over my face. It’s too early for this. The events of the last two days begin running through my mind as I closed my eyes. I’m a complete mess. If I could stay in bed all day I would. Michael was giving me so many mixed signals but, after last night, I’m afraid he may never speak to me again. I sat up throwing the pillow across the room with force.

“You weren’t aiming for me right?” My head snapped to the side to see Michael standing in front of the window looking out at the London sky.

“Michael!” I yelled pulling the comforter up to cover my pajamas.

“I brought us breakfast.”

“How did you get in here?”

“French toast! Your favorite..” he sang placing the take out trays on the table.

“How long were you watching me sleep?”

“I got extra syrup and fresh strawberries.” He danced taking a big bite of a strawberry.

“You scared me! Why are you here this early?”

“I knew the only way you’d listen to me is if I showed up unannounced and brought food.” A smile spread across his face. “Come on sit.”

“Give me a minute.” I sprinted to the bathroom and softly shut the door behind me. I brush my teeth and wash my face but my nerves are still through the roof. Michael’s here in my room acting suspiciously normal. I focused on my breathing as I walked out back into the room.

“My mom.” He stated as I took the seat across from him.

“What?”

“She had a spare key. I was just answering your earlier question.”

“Oh, then yes.” I smiled taking a bite.

“Yes?”

“I was aiming for you.” I answered sticking my tongue out.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I have a comedian for a best friend folks!” He announced to an imaginary crowd.

“What would you like to talk to me about?” I asked laughing.

“I need you to promise me something first.”

“What is that?”

“I need you to let me say everything I need to say to you without interrupting me.”

“Is everything okay?” His tone beginning to make me nervous.

“I’ll explain everything.”

“I promise. No interrupting.” I held my hand up letting him know I took the oath seriously.

“Well, I want to thank you for visiting me. It’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. This tour has been incredible, but I have missed you very much. It’s just- everything is better when you’re around.” He slid his hand onto the table slowing inching it towards me. He gave me a small smile and I knew exactly what he wanted, so I placed my hand in his. “I know I’ve been all over the place and I’m sorry. It’s just- it’s such a tough situation. I would never intentionally toy with your feelings. I know that’s why you were avoiding me. I understand why and it’s okay. It was just for a few hours but knowing you didn’t want to see me was the worst feeling in the world.”

“I’ve kept something from you for a few years now because I truly believed it was for the best. It was easier when we were kids. We didn’t have to worry or stress. Once I got to the age where I understood my feelings it became more difficult, but not impossible. I told myself it was better to have you as my best friend than not have you at all. I wanted you in my life. I need you and I hate the idea of my feelings ruining our friendship. Then, my career took this incredible albeit insane turn. All the hard work, struggle and pain of my childhood was finally paying off, but it came at a cost. I’m constantly ridiculed, bullied and betrayed. They all misunderstand me because they don’t know me. I’m just a punchline to them.” He places his hand over his eyes leaning his elbow on the table in attempt to conceal his watery eyes. “I knew I had to protect you from this world. The media attacking you. The paparazzi stalking you. I couldn’t bear leaving you vulnerable to it all. There has always been an excuse. And they all seemed like great excuses. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized it was fear holding me back. The fear of losing you, but let’s face it you aren’t going anywhere and neither am I. Y/N, there is nothing in this world that is worth keeping my distance from you.” His hand fell from his face and landed over mine.

“Y/N, I could never close my heart to you because it’s yours. It has always been yours.”

“I’m terrified but I think- I hope you want this too. I hope you want me— us.”

“I know what happened opening night hurt you. I know because if I had to watch some schmuck kiss you… or dance with you…” he paused his rant shifting in his seat “I would loose my mind. It would break me.” He squeezed his eyes shut softly shaking his head back and forth. “I could feel your pain. I could feel the ache in your heart. I could feel your tears. It was unbearable. I never want to be the cause of it again. Ever.”

“The reality is if we become more it will change your life in an instant. I pray that you feel I’m worth it as much as I feel you are. I know you are. It won’t be easy, but I vow to do everything in my power to keep any harm from coming to you. I will always protect you.”

“Lovely, in all the ways I’ve pictured my life, you are always in it. You and I are inevitable. We are predestined. It’s in the stars. Everything in me chooses you. You are it. You’re the dream of all dreams. You’re my dream come true. I love you. I love you infinitely.”

Michael’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a deep sigh. He stood up and pulled his chair over to sit beside me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My Michael.

“I um- that was probably too much to throw at you all at once. Goodness it’s hot in here.” He started playing with his hair and I knew he was panicking.

“Can I talk now?” I whispered. He hesitantly nodded.

“Michael, please look at me.” His eyes were closed and he shook his head no. “Michael.”

He didn’t move and I could tell he thought I was going to reject him. My hands landed on his broad shoulders, his eyes still closed as I ever so gently turned him towards me. I tried to focus on my breathing as my hands traveled to the back of his neck. My fingers running through his curls. I took a brief moment to catch my breath before I leaned in.

As our lips met, a strong bolt of electricity ran through my body. I felt his hands tenderly cup my face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against mine with a gentle urgency. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no excuses - no fears.

Surprisingly, the thought of being pressed up against Michael never crossed my mind, but now that it was happening, I didn’t want it to end. Michael’s hands were strong as he affectionately caressed my body. Our lips slightly parted - our breathing heavy - our gazes falling onto one another. Michael didn’t waste time letting his eyes travel. His breath hitched as he lustfully scanned my legs on either side of his hips.

“Oh lovely.” He quickly caught my lips again gripping the back of my thighs. He stood up carrying me with ease as he moved over to the bed.

I felt the plush mattress form to the curves of my body as Michael hovered over me leaving sweet kisses across my collarbone.

“I love you Y/N” he mumbled against my skin with each kiss.

“My entire life...” he stopped and adjusted himself to look into my eyes. “My whole life I’ve been completely in love with you.” The corners of his lips curved up and he buried his face into my neck. “Michael, I love you with my whole heart.”

“Please don’t let this be a dream.” Michael pleaded.

“This is real.” I smiled finding his lips again. “This is happening.”

“Y/N?” He said against my lips.

“Yes Michael?”

“Can I take you on a date? A real date. Just the two of us. Tonight after the show.” He moved to the space next to me as we both shifted laying on our sides to face each other.

“I would love that.”

“I want to kiss you forever.”

“I would love that.” I repeated flirtatiously.

“My girl.” He smiled leaning his forehead against mine. “You’re my girl..”

“Oh I am?” I teased.

“I would like you to be mine. Do you want to be my girl?”

“Hmmm.. let me think.”

Michael began singing and my heart melted further with each lyric.

You know how I feel

I won't stop until

I hear your voice saying

"I do"

Michael watched me intently waiting for my answer. He leaned closer and I smiled kissing him deeply “I do” I said against his lips.

This thing can't go wrong

This feeling's so strong

Well, my life ain't worth living

If I can't be with you

I just can't stop loving you

I just can't stop loving you

And if I stop

Then tell me, just what will I do

I just can't stop loving you

There it is part 3!!!

Ahhhhh! Maybe part 4?

I hope you all enjoyed this rollercoaster lol

Let me know what you think. Also, should I put together a tag list?

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie didn’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. 

As far as he was concerned, new year, same him. You don’t like it? Choke. 

He made no bones about telling people that, either. Every year when someone asked ‘So what’s your resolution?’ he was quick to launch into a rant about the pressures of society to improve and fit into being more ‘normal’. He’d sneer and whine until whoever was caught in the crosshairs was able to slink away. 

Enter Steve Harrington. 

Eddie was enamoured by Steve and all his superstitions. Steve never walked under a ladder, freaked out if he thought a mirror was broken, and even had a fake rabbit’s foot on his keys. Eddie caught himself counting a flock of magpies outside the trailer one day, trying to remember the dumb little rhyme Steve always rattled off when he waved to them. 

One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy....

Eddie thought he must be really down bad for Steve if he was entertaining the idea of some random birds telling the future. 

It was New Year’s Eve and Eddie was sitting in the Harrington living room with the rest of the party. He watched as Steve opened up some windows and placed lit a candle on the main windowsill. When he joined him at the window to ask about it, Eddie was surprised to learn that not only was it a superstition, but Steve was carrying on an old family tradition. Steve explained all about the origins of the candle, how it originally stood for hoping for a priest to visit to bless the house, and how it had morphed over time into being a welcoming light to bring the household into the new year. 

“I open up the front and back door at midnight too, let the old year out and the new one in, you know?”

Eddie didn’t know, he had never had any superstitions, but he nodded anyway.

“Plus getting it all set up gives me time to think over my resolution,” said Steve, looking out the window.

Eddie swallowed hard. His mouth opened to spew his usual spiel about resolutions, but he practically bit his tongue to stop himself. 

“I’m thinking about finding a new hobby this year,” Steve continued. “Maybe I should pick up a guitar, see if I can give you a run for your money,”

Steve’s soft smile made Eddie’s ears tingle.

“How about you, Eds?” asked Steve. “Any resolutions?”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he scrambled for a response. Fuck fuck fuck the one time he needed to think of one and he had nothing.

“Uh, actually, I uh, I was thinking about getting into teaching,” said Eddie, the gears in his head finally cranking up. “So I guess, you know, if you did want to learn to play, I uh, I could help,”

Eddie bit his lip and hoped Steve wouldn’t see right through him. 

Steve put his hands in his pockets and gently bumped his shoe off Eddie’s.

“I’d like that,” he said. 

And just like that, Eddie had his first ever new year’s resolution. He wasn’t even mad about it. 

[musicalmoritz]

Ok ok I want you to think about swap terukane so like clock keeper Teru x exorcist Akane. And also like Akanes the super super popular school president. Yea so like thoughts/headcanons?? (I always cook up the most insane ideas in the middle of the night and I actually remember this one vaguely!)

Let’s talk about the Terukane swap au!! I’ve seen a few people write and draw for this but I’ve never rly read any of the fics or looked too much into it so I’m entirely making this shit up on my own, Ik this is a popular trope so I apologize if I miss any of the sub tropes that are included with it ;-;

It’s hard for me to separate Teru or Kou from exorcism since the Minamotos were a real life clan, but I don’t think I’d go about this in the “Akane is a Minamoto and Teru is an Aoi” way. I suppose for this au it’s most reasonable to say the Minamotos are a regular family and the Aois are the exorcist clan. That provides another fun question tho, are the Akane girls still kannagi?? Since this is strictly a Terukane swap au I’ll assume they are, though if we wanted to take it further we could swap Aoi with Nene or one of the other characters. It’s easier for me to follow strict guidelines tho so I’m gonna keep it at just Terukane being swapped

That alone changes so much of the story tho, it’s very interesting to me. We’ll say the Minamotos are still a strict/traditional family, so there’s still some pressure on Teru and Kou. Just not to the extent that there is in canon. And assuming their mom still died in due to complications from childbirth, their dad would still be absent and Teru and Kou will still have to grow up too soon by raising Tiara. But things would be significantly easier on them since they’d be taking care of the family together. Teru would learn basic life skills like cooking, which would take a load off of Kou. Then since the work would be split, they’d both have more free time on their hands. If one of them wants to hang out with friends, the other can take over cooking and cleaning for the night. Tho that would lead to numerous sibling arguments, since Teru is the oldest he’d probably push Kou around a bit when they’re younger lol. He’d run that house like the military

I want to say Kou is the one the Clock Keepers threaten him with since Teru is so protective of him, but that wouldn’t rly work since they wouldn’t be at school together during Teru’s first year of junior high. As an oldest sibling, Teru is very protective by nature, so they might be able to choose any random student. Once they have him where they want him, they throw in some threats aimed at his siblings to secure their chances of making a contract. So Teru ends up going down the same self-sacrificial route we see in canon, he becomes a Clock Keeper so that no one else has to do it

Without any siblings, Akane is the soul beholder of the family legacy. Self-sacrifice isn’t even an option for him, he’s the only one who can succeed his parents so he must do it. Then there’s Aoi, his childhood best friend. If Akane were an exorcist and they grew up together, Aoi would find out about supernaturals way sooner. Maybe he tells her himself, because he can no longer carry the burden alone. And he knows she’s a kannagi, that something bad could happen to her someday if he doesn’t keep a close eye on her, so he has to watch her like a hawk. In this au there’s not as many secrets between them, so much is at stake so they have to be transparent with each other. Akane’s honesty inspires Aoi to be more honest with him as well. So the obsession between them, platonic or otherwise, is a lot more mutual. They developed sort of a trauma bond at an early age and now they have to look out for each other

Akane’s popularity comes from his natural inclination to help others. He’s such a kind person, even if he can be aggressive. And without him having to constantly chase Aoi, no one thinks he’s a weirdo. It’s a little odd that he’s so protective of his friend, but he’s so damn nice that everyone just shrugs it off as him being sweet. Teru though? Teru is the weirdo

His family is still strict but without the same expectations placed on him, there’s no need for him to try and excel at everything. No one cares if he’s the best student so he can do whatever he wants. And yeah, he’s pretty, but he’s also loud and annoying. He teases people and gets creepily sadistic at times. This ties into my audhd Minamotos headcanon, without the pressure he’s under in canon, Teru feels less of a need to mask. He still does it to some extent due to societal pressure and all but the only opinion he really cares about are those of his siblings, so he’s content to be himself. He makes a few friends this way too, he’s not exactly popular but the people who get him get him. I’m gonna make him friends with Nene in this au, she appreciates his realness

Because of Akane’s hatred for supernaturals, they don’t get along at first. Teru joins the Student Council to keep a better eye on everyone so he can do better at his job as a Clock Keeper. Kou attending Kamome and getting closer with supernaturals has a lot to do with it. When they first meet, Akane ties Teru up and tries to interrogate him but bcuz this is Less Traumatized Teru it goes way differently than he planned. Teru’s filter is nonexistent so when Akane tries to threaten him he’s just like “oh hello cute boy I like you very much.” But the thing is, Akane can’t tell if Teru is joking or not. He assumes he must be, because there’s no way a School Mystery feels things like love and crushes. Still, Teru is so painfully Just A Regular Dude that Akane is forced to see him differently. Cue the typical Terukane “relationship built on trust” shenanigans. Reluctant partners in crime and what not

I’m not gonna go as far as to say they have a Sakura and Natsuhiko type dynamic but it’s similar. The classic “are you flirting with me?” “have been for the past 10 years, thanks for noticing” meme. Think of it as all of Teru’s jokes about liking Aoi in canon if they were directly aimed at Akane instead. Then the “wait- do you have genuine feelings for Ao-chan?” scene becomes “do you have genuine feelings for me?” or “were you serious this whole time?” Their dynamic changes a lot after that. Akane starts flirting back, and instead of using Aoi to motivate Teru he uses himself. “Help me save her and I might take you up on that offer for a date.” And then they do go on a date, at the school festival right before everything turns to shit

Adding to that, in this au I imagine Aoi and Akane are the ones betrothed in the new timeline. This brings in conflict bcuz let’s say Akane used to have feelings for Aoi but those faded over time, it’s all platonic between them now as opposed to what we see in canon. So he has the opportunity to either be with the girl he used to love, the girl he’s been with all his life, his safety blanket…or go back to the boy who’s stolen his heart. Damn that was cheesy, I’m cooking here

Kako also becomes Teru’s father figure btw bcuz he needs one. And despite his dislike for supernaturals, Teru adores Mirai bcuz she reminds him of Tiara. Found family ftw

Thanks for the ask, I hadn’t thought much abt this au before but now I’ve gotten myself invested