#watched most of this bc i burned my hand and had not much else to do for one day
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olive-main · 3 days ago
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Hi, hope you’re well! Saw your request for angst ideas. If you’re interested: Reader has been part of the Inner Circle for years, like an og member. Post war she watches Az fall in love with Elaine or Gwyn. She’s known they’re mates, but he’s always told her he loves her as a friend, and nobody else knows they’re mates. She watches as his relationship grows, maybe they’re having a kid or whatever, this can be all the angst you see fit. She’s finally had enough and decides to leave (either for work as an emissary or for herself). Maybe as she starts to rebuild, Az and the IC realize how much her loss impacts them. But when they go see her, she’s thriving. Ending can be whatever floats your boat, maybe she’s with Eris or thriving in Day as Lucien’s advisor, or something else all together.
To Love and Let Go
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: An unrequited love, and a one sided mating bond. What will reader do when she can no longer watch Azriel fall for another female who isn’t her?
Wc: 2.9k (gah dayum)
A/N: ok, this is the longggest fic I've written to date, but I don't hate it...and I may be persuaded to write a part two with multiple endings bcs I'm indecisive asf. Requests are still open and highly encouraged since I'm on break and have a bunch of free time, clearly.
__
The stars are mocking tonight, their gleam far too bright for the storm brewing inside you. Velaris has always been beautiful, but tonight the city feels suffocating. The laughter of your family echoes around the River House’s dining room, filling the space with warmth and joy.
You sit at the edge of the long table, wine in hand, your smile carefully in place. Cassian is in the middle of one of his stories, something about Azriel and a drunken spar decades ago. The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but glance at him.
Azriel sits across from you, his shoulders relaxed, his shadows soft and relaxed as they curl lazily around him. He’s laughing—quiet and rare, but enough to tug at your chest in a way you’ve never been able to stop.
Beside him, Gwyn is radiant. She laughs, bright and genuine, her hand resting on his arm as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand shifts, fingers brushing over hers in a way that’s intimate, tender. Simple. Devastating.
You lift your wine to your lips and down the rest of the glass in one burning gulp.
You’ve known for years that Azriel isn’t yours to have. When the Cauldron whispered of your bond, it hadn’t been the joyous revelation you’d dreamed of. Instead, it had been a curse.
You feel it even now—that golden thread tying your soul to his, pulling taut every time you see him. But Azriel never acknowledged it, not once. How could he when he didn't even know it existed?
“You’re my best friend,” he’d told you long ago, sitting beside you on a rooftop in Velaris, the two of you cloaked in silence and shadows. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And you’d smiled. Smiled and tucked the truth deeper inside yourself, burying it so far down you almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real. Almost.
The conversation shifts around you, but the words blur together, distant and unimportant. You force yourself to stay, to laugh when you’re supposed to, to nod in all the right places.
Across the table, Gwyn leans closer to Azriel, whispering something in his ear. He smiles at her, that soft, secret smile you’ve seen so many times over the years. But it’s never been for you.
The ache in your chest spreads, sharp and relentless, until you can’t bear it any longer. You push your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.
“Everything okay?” Mor asks, her brows furrowing as she studies you.
You nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just need some air.”
No one questions you, and you’re grateful for it. You slip out of the room and onto the balcony, the cool night air rushing to meet you. The stars stretch endlessly above, and for a moment, you close your eyes and pretend this life isn’t yours.
But the bond hums faintly in the back of your mind, tethering you to someone who will never feel the same way.
You grip the balcony railing, the cool metal grounding you as you draw in a shaky breath. The quiet should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t. Not with the sound of their laughter spilling through the open door behind you, not with the bond thrumming painfully in the back of your mind.
You’ve endured this for years. Watching Azriel laugh, fight, live, all while pretending your heart doesn’t shatter every time he smiles at someone who isn’t you. Gwyn. Elain before her, and Mor long before that. All the women who could never feel what you feel for him—but were lucky enough to have his attention anyway.
And then there’s you, his best friend. The one he trusts, confides in, leans on. Just never in the way you ache for. Even before the bond snapped, you’d been in love with the Shadowsinger. He was always the calm amongst the chaos of your family, the one you could seek refuge in.
The sound of footsteps interrupts your thoughts. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. His shadows reach you first, curling gently around your wrist, hesitant and curious. They always do that, as if they sense the things he doesn’t.
“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice is soft, warm in a way that makes it harder to breathe.
You release the railing and turn to face him, your mask firmly in place. “I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”
His brows pull together, his hazel eyes studying you in that unrelenting way of his. “You’ve seemed… distracted tonight.”
You force a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not distracted. Just tired, that’s all.” The lie was easy on your tongue, a lie you’ve repeated more times than you can count.
His shadows shift, curling tighter around you. “You can tell me if something’s wrong,” he says, his voice low, careful.
You want to laugh again. Wrong? Everything is wrong. Your mate is standing in front of you, looking at you with concern while his love sits inside, waiting for him. He doesn’t even feel the bond that’s been tearing you apart for years. How could you possibly tell him the truth?
“I’m fine, Az,” you say again, stepping back, putting distance between you. “Go back inside. Gwyn’s probably wondering where you are.”
Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it. He hesitates, his shadows brushing against your hand one last time before retreating.
“All right,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t look convinced.
You watch him go, his wings casting long shadows across the balcony as he disappears into the house. The bond hums faintly, pulling at your heart even as you stand there alone.
A part of you wants to blame yourself for never telling him about the mating bond. It was known Azriel always longed for a mate, so much so he had made the bold claim of Elain being his mate once upon a time. Now, he's with Gwyn under that same notion. Unfortunately, your heart had wanted him to love you without the influence of the bond.
Your thoughts persist as you force your eyes shut, trying and failing to fall asleep.
Instead, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all presses down on you. You’ve built your entire life around the Inner Circle, around him. And for what? To watch him build a life with someone else? To keep breaking your own heart over and over again?
No.
When dawn comes, the decision is already made.
“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asks, her hand resting lightly on your arm.
You stand in the foyer of the River House, your bags already packed and waiting by the door. The soft morning light filters through the windows, casting golden hues over everything. It should feel warm. Comforting. But all you feel is the ache of goodbye.
“I’m sure,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver.
Rhysand stands a few paces away, arms crossed, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. You were like a sister to him, someone he’d protected and seen through every phase of life. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently. “We can figure something out. If you need time off, time for yourself—”
“I need more than time, Rhys,” you interrupt, forcing a small smile to soften the blow. “I need space. A fresh start. This is the right move for me.”
You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times, carefully framing your departure as a professional opportunity. An emissary position in Day Court. Helion had been eager to accept your offer, praising your skills and promising a new challenge that you could sink your teeth into.
It wasn’t a lie. You would thrive in Day Court. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.
Feyre’s grip on your arm tightens, her lips pressing together as if she’s holding back an argument. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re running away,” she says softly.
You glance past her, your eyes catching on the open archway leading to the dining room. You can feel him in there, his shadows faint even from this distance. The bond pulls, a sharp tug against your ribs.
“I’m not running away,” you tell her, even though part of you wonders if that’s exactly what this is. “I’m choosing myself for once.”
Rhys nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “If that’s what you need, then we support you. Always.”
A lump rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, turning to hug Feyre. “Thank you. For everything.”
Azriel watches from the shadows of the dining room as you leave. He doesn’t mean to linger there, doesn’t mean to eavesdrop—but he can’t help it.
He hears Feyre’s quiet goodbye, Rhys’s reassurances. He sees the way your shoulders straighten as you step out the door, as if you’re carrying a weight none of them can understand.
Something twists in his chest, sharp and unfamiliar.
He doesn’t understand it. You’ve left Velaris before, gone on missions and trips for weeks at a time. But this feels… different. Permanent.
For a moment, he almost steps forward, almost calls out to you. But then the door closes, and you’re gone.
The Day Court is a world apart from Velaris.
Here, the sun always seems to shine, casting a golden glow over Helion’s sprawling palace. It’s vibrant, full of life, and for the first time in years, you feel as though you can finally breathe.
Helion welcomes you with open arms, praising your work and throwing you headfirst into new projects. The days are busy, your nights peaceful, and slowly—very slowly—the ache in your chest begins to fade.
You make new allies and friends. Lucien, especially, becomes an unexpected source of comfort. He understands unspoken bonds, the pain of being tied to someone who doesn’t want you. For the first few weeks, most, if not all your time was spent by his side.
“You’re free now,” he tells you one evening, the two of you sitting on a balcony overlooking the Day Court gardens. His amber eyes glint in the fading sunlight. “It doesn’t feel like it yet, but it will. One day.”
You smile, a real smile, and let the words settle in your chest.
Back in Velaris, the Inner Circle feels the void you’ve left behind. Cassian complains loudly during training sessions about how things don’t run as smoothly without you. Mor keeps suggesting trips to Day Court, half-joking but half-serious. Even Feyre finds herself reaching for you during meetings, only to realize you’re no longer there.
And Azriel…
Azriel notices most of all.
He misses the quiet way you steadied him, the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The balance you brought to the group. To him.
At first, he tells himself it’s just an adjustment. You’ll be back eventually. But as the weeks stretch into months, he begins to realize just how deeply your absence has cut into his life.
The shadow of the bond hums faintly in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t understand why.
Not yet.
It’s Feyre who suggests the trip.
“You’ve been working too hard,” she tells Azriel, shooting him with a look that leaves no room for argument. “We all have. A visit to Day Court will do us some good. Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve seen her.”
Azriel hesitates but eventually agrees. He tells himself it’s curiosity, that he just wants to see how you’re settling in. Since you’ve left his relationship with everyone, Gywn especially, has grown distant. He tries to find you in her, comparing the small things that shouldn’t matter—and every time it only makes his heart sink.
When they arrive, they find you in the Day Court gardens, laughing at something Lucien has said. The sunlight catches in your hair, your face glowing with a happiness Azriel hasn’t seen in years.
The gardens are breathtaking, a vibrant sprawl of golden blooms and gleaming fountains that seem to echo the brilliance of the sun overhead. But Azriel doesn’t see any of it.
His focus is entirely on you.
You look radiant, the golden hues of Day Court seeming to highlight the confidence you’ve gained in your time away.
Lucien leans closer, his expression soft yet intent, and the sight makes something dark and ugly twist in Azriel’s chest. It’s not the first time he’s seen Lucien or been jealous of the male, but this—this—feels different. He used to feel that pang of jealousy when he blindly pined for Elain, now with you it returned with a greater force.
He doesn’t understand why these feelings have suddenly spread through him. You’ve always been his friend. His anchor. But as Lucien reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, Azriel feels like he’s watching something slip through his fingers.
“Az?” Feyre’s voice pulls him back. She’s watching him with careful eyes, her brow furrowing.
He shakes his head and straightens his posture, forcing his expression back into neutral territory. “I’m fine.” But he isn’t.
Before Feyre can press him further, Lucien notices their approach and gives a low whistle. “Well, well. Velaris sends its finest.” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes as they flick toward you.
You turn, and when your gaze lands on Azriel, your smile falters. It’s a subtle shift, but he sees it. Feels it.
“Rhysand. Feyre. Azriel,” you greet, inclining your head slightly, your voice polite but distant. As if they were strangers and not the family you chose all those centuries ago.
He hates it.
The reunion is cordial at first, filled with pleasantries and talk of work. Lucien stands close to you, his presence steady, his hand occasionally brushing yours in a way that grounds you. Azriel’s shadows stir restlessly, but he forces them into submission.
“You’ve done well here,” Feyre says warmly, her gaze sweeping over the garden. “It suits you.”
“Thank you.” Your smile is genuine, though it doesn’t quite reach Azriel. “Helion has been… generous with his trust.”
“And with his emissary’s time,” Lucien adds, grinning at you. “She’s a natural. Can’t imagine how Day Court managed before she arrived.”
The praise makes you duck your head slightly, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks. Azriel’s jaw tightens.
“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” he says, his voice lower than usual.
Your eyes flick to him briefly before turning back to Lucien, but there’s something guarded in your expression. “I have. It’s been… fulfilling.”
The word stings more than it should.
Eventually, Feyre and Rhys drift away with Lucien, leaving you and Azriel alone amidst the golden flowers. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words.
“You’ve been… different,” he says finally, breaking the silence.
You glance at him, your arms folding across your chest. “Different how?”
He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Happier,” he admits.
The softness in his voice almost makes you falter, but you stand your ground. “I am,” you say simply.
His shadows curl around his feet, agitated. “You left so suddenly,” he says, his tone sharper now. “One day you were there, and the next you were… gone. No warning. No explanation.”
You raise an eyebrow, bitterness creeping into your voice. “I told you I needed space. I told all of you.” You pause for a second, staring at a cluster of white lilies. “Why does it matter now, Azriel?”
“Because I miss you,” he says, the words raw and unguarded. “We all do. But me… I—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.
You laugh softly, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “You miss me now? After I’ve finally started to find peace? After you’ve built a life with Gwyn?”
His shadows surge forward, brushing against your arm, but you shake them off. “Don’t do this, Azriel.”
“You’re my friend,” he says, and the words make your heart twist painfully.
You whirl to face him, your eyes blazing. “No. I was never just your friend, Azriel. I was your mate.”
The truth spills out before you can stop it, sharp and cutting. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.
“What?” His voice is barely a whisper.
You laugh again, a broken sound. “The Cauldron tied us together centuries ago, but you never felt it, did you? You never even noticed.”
His shadows pull back, retreating like they’ve been burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it didn’t matter!” you snap, your voice rising. “You didn’t want me that way, Azriel. You never did. And I wasn’t about to force something on you that you didn’t feel.”
He stares at you, his usually stoic face cracking with something raw and uncertain. “I—”
But you shake your head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve moved on.”
“You’ve moved on?” he echoes, his gaze flicking toward the direction Lucien went. His voice lowers, dangerous. “With him?”
“Yes,” you say firmly, though the word feels heavy. “Because he sees me, Azriel. He knows what it’s like to be unwanted. To feel second-best.”
The words are a dagger between you, and you can see the way they strike him, the way his shadows twist and writhe.
“Is that what you think?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “That you were second-best?”
Your throat tightens, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think it. I know it.”
For a moment, neither of you speak. The bond hums faintly in your chest, but it’s different now—fading, unraveling as you finally let go of the male who could never love you the way you deserved.
“I’m happy here,” you say softly, your voice steady. “And you… you have Gwyn. You have your life in Velaris. Let that be enough.”
Azriel doesn’t argue. He just stands there, his shadows a chaotic storm around him, as you turn and walk away.
This time, you don’t look back.
Aaannd scene XOXO ~
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spockasmr · 1 year ago
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picard s1 "thoughts" and i use that word v loosely
i preface this all by saying that i might just not be in the right mood lol and that maybe i wasn't paying enuf attention
didn't feel particularly egregious. just didn't really care most of the time. the synthetics thing didn't compel me enough and seemed very anticlimactic in the end. romulan displacement too had no follow through 4 me. in the end everyone forgives starfleet for everything i suppose
didn't like jurati. like at all. soz
the most interesting things started to drive me insane because of how they skipped over it between episodes. raffi descending back into old habits bc of her son = something that happened offscreen between episodes where she locks herself out of her replicator. rios seriously convinced that raffi is a double agent for the romulans = resolved between episodes with no fall out at all
similarly i suppose the whole thing where the sisters imply that elron does not belong with them and basically elron getting tossed around because he attached himself to lost causes which would've felt more impactful if he also wasn't frequently the butt of every joke because Lol he doesn't understand
all attempts at humour did nothing for me. that's on me maybe but it felt like bad writing most of the time. i did enjoy rios and crew playing dress up for that maddox bit. that was the most fun i had
not going to pretend that seven having to kill icheb did not hurt. or hugh dying like that.
the evil romulan sister was sexy even if she had no depth beyond a throwaway line towards the end about how this is what her parents fought for.
if you read this then im sorry. anyway
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fairyysoup · 1 year ago
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i can see you
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♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎
pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.
aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it
words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)
cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift
a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon
ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…
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Hawkins High, September 1984
He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.
That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.
You stare a lot.
It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.
You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 
That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!
It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.
You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 
You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.
God, you wish you could kiss him.
Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.
“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 
You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.
Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 
“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.
You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 
And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 
Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 
He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 
“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”
You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”
Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.
He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”
“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 
I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.
You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”
You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.
Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.
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‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…
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Hawkins High, April 1985
Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 
Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.
It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.
You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.
Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.
You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.
Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.
Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.
You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 
A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.
Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 
They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.
What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 
Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.
You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 
You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).
You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.
Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 
He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.
We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.
He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.
Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 
It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.
You know too well what that feels like, right now.
Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.
But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.
You didn’t even think he knew your name.
You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”
Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”
He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 
“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 
You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”
“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  
“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.
“The guy’s a fucking douche.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”
“Billy Hargrove?” 
Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”
You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”
Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.
You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”
You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 
Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.
Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’
Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 
You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.
“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.
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But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?
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Prom Night, May 1985
The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.
Except, well.
Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.
The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 
You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”
“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 
You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”
Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.
Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.
You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.
As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.
You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 
“I’m not sulking.”
You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 
“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”
“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”
He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 
But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.
“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”
You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”
“Who?”
You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”
“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.
“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”
“Kelly Palmer.” 
You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”
“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.
You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.
“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”
You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”
“Yeah, I hope not.” 
“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”
“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 
You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”
He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 
“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.
“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”
“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 
Steve Harrington is touching your face.  
His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.
Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.
You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.
Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”
Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.
“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 
“STEVE??!”
You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.
She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.
You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 
“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”
Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 
Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.
You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 
He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.
Wherever there is, it’s not with you.
Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.
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And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…
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Starcourt Mall, June 1985
“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”
“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”
“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.
Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 
Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.
You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.
Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”
It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 
You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 
But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 
Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.
You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.
He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”
“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”
“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”
“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 
“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”
“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”
“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”
“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”
Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”
You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”
“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 
Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.
The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.
“Are you ready?”
“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.
What did you say? What did he say?
“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.
“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”
“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”
Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”
“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”
“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.
You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’
“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 
“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 
“I can dig a few sprinkles.”
“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 
“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.
He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”
You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.
You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 
“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”
You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 
He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”
“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”
“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 
You like it a lot. 
You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”
“What? No, I couldn’t-”
“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”
“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”
Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”
You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.
When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.
You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.
You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.
Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”
“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”
“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.
“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”
“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”
Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”
Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 
The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”
“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”
“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”
“I made it up.” 
Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 
Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 
“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.
“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”
“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 
“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.
He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.
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You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…
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Family Video, March 1986
The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.
Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 
This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.
The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 
You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.
“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”
You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.
You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”
“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”
“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”
“So, right after I last saw you?”
Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 
“I wish.” 
You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 
You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.
You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.
You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 
You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”
Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”
“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”
Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”
“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 
Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 
“I’ll be here.”
“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 
“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 
Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 
Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”
“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”
“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”
Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 
“No.”
“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 
“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 
Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 
“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.
Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”
Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 
“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.
Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.
Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 
If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 
He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.
Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.
Oh.  
“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 
“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”
“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”
“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 
You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.
You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”
“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 
Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”
“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.
“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.
You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”
A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 
“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 
“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 
“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”
He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.
He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.
“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 
Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 
You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.
“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”
“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”
“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 
Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.
You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?
“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 
Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 
Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.
“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”
Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.
And again.
And again.
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And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…
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Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991
You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 
You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 
As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”
“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”
“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 
Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.
Logan Sawyer.  
“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.
As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 
“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.
Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.
“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”
“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.
“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”
You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 
Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 
You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 
“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”
You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.
Oh my fucking god.
It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-
“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 
Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?
“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.
“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.
You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.
He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?
Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.
“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 
You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”
“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 
Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”
“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 
Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”
“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 
“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”
Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”
You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 
You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 
Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”
Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.
“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”
“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”
“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”
“My father owns the company.”
“Right.” God, help me. 
Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 
That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 
Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.
His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.
As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.
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I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…
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Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 
You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 
Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 
You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 
Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 
“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”
“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”
“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  
You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”
Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”
“You just said-”
“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”
Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”
“It was fine.”
“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…
“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 
You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”
Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 
“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”
You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 
When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”
You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.
You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 
Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 
“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 
Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”
“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 
Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 
There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 
The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 
The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  
You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 
He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 
Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 
You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.
But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 
It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 
You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 
Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.
“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”
“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  
He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 
“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 
Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.
“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 
He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”
“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 
Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”
You don’t have to ask him twice.
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What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…
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The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.
“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”
You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”
“The price.”
“The price.”  
It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.
“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 
“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”
“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”
He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 
“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”
“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.
“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”
Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.
The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.
Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.
Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 
“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 
“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”
“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 
He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.
You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”
“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 
Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”
Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.
You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”
“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”
Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 
Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  
He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.
Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 
Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.
Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”
“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”
“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”
You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 
Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 
Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”
“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”
He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”
Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 
“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”
His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  
Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”
“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  
“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”
You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 
You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”
He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”
You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 
He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 
“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 
You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.
“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”
Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”
“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”
He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.
You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 
Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”
Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”
He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”
Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”
Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”
“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”
Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.
Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.
He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 
“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  
“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”
“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”
Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”
“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 
Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 
Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  
You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”
Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”
You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”
“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”
He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  
Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 
You want him to do it all over your body.
Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 
Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 
Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.
“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 
“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”
Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 
But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 
His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.
“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”
“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”
You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  
“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 
How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?
“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 
“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”
You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”
“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.
Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.
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What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…
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You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 
You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.
You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.
There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.
You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.
“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”
Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 
Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.
You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”
He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 
“The ice cream, or the porn?”
He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”
He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  
But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.
Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.
“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”
“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”
“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.
“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 
That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”
“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”
You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.
Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 
“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”
“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”
Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.
Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.
“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
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(I see you, I see you, baby.)
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4K notes · View notes
hariboz · 11 months ago
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NEW YEARS KISS
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“your best friend decides to volunteer when you complain about not having anyone to kiss on new year’s eve!”
pairing: bff!gyuvin x gn!reader
genre: fluff!!, friends to lovers!!
warnings: reader is somewhat of a romantic (?), reader is also said to be a little inexperienced in terms of dating!!, a little (implied?) jealousy from gyuvin, seunghan cameo (1. FREE HIM!! HE DID NOTHING!! 2. he was the first non-jebi guy i thought of <3), they’re cute <3, this is nawt my best work i literally wrote this on new year’s eve while with my family 😭
notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY POOKIES!! i hope all of you have an amazing, healthy and happy 2024 🥹🫶🏻 may all your goals come to fruition!! also, i’m very excited for a new year with my jebis, may they continue to thrive and be as happy as they can be <3 also, hope wakeone burns down xoxo MWAH LOVE U ALL <33 ALSO!! i picked gyuvin for this bc some knetz are pissing me off currently with their stupid hate for gyuvin, so i decided to write this bc i LOVE KIM GYUVIN!! IF YOU DONT MAY GOD STRIKE YOU DOWN
word count: 1.6k
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you don’t mind being single, really. it’s not really the ‘being single’ part that makes you feel weird, but rather just…not getting to have the same experiences as your friends. always having to sit and nod along when they talk about a date they went on, or how they celebrated a holiday with their partner. it’s exhausting being surrounded by couples all the time. they’re all your friends and you’re happy for them, but when it comes to events like this, you really wish you’d have more single friends.
new year’s eve is supposed to be fun, filled with laughter and loud excitement for the coming year — it is all that, but it’s also you watching your friends huddle together once the countdown to midnight starts, sharing sweet nothings before celebrating the new year with a sickeningly sweet new years kiss.
all while you kind of just stand there, celebrating the arrival of yet another year on your own. for those few lips-locking seconds, at least. is it a little silly to feel left out? of course, but is it really that absurd to want to experience a new years kiss just like everyone else? well, you don’t think so. gyuvin, your best friend, sees things a little differently, though.
“it’s so stupid, i don’t get why you’re so hung up on it,” gyuvin huffs past his snacking on some chips, throwing you a sideways glance. “just think about it, most of them have a different new year’s kiss every year. does that seem like something you want?” you roll your eyes, snatching the bag of chips from his hands. “you don’t get it,” you stuff a handful of chips into your mouth, “it’s romantic. it’s like saying ‘i have no idea what the new year will bring, but at least i will always have you.’ you’re not romantic enough for this.”
gyuvin just gives you a skeptic look, turning his attention back to the drama playing on your tv. it’s silent for a while, both of you a little lost in your respective thoughts until gyuvin quietly speaks up, “does it really bother you? that you don’t have someone to….” he trails off, voice a little unsure. his voice is sincere and doesn’t have the teasing tone it had earlier so you’re a little caught off guard.
you clear your throat, answering in an equally small voice, “well…yeah, kinda? i don’t know. i just think it would be…nice, for a change, you know? i want to experience stuff like that too, instead of just always watching from the sidelines.” gyuvin nods, seemingly understanding where you’re coming from, and that was that. for now, at least.
you didn’t think much of that little one off conversation, neither of you bringing it up again in the weeks that followed. though, unbeknownst to you, that seemingly unimportant conversation kept knocking at the back of gyuvin’s mind every single day. he thought about it an embarrassing amount, really. he kept telling himself that it was because he thought you were being silly, and all those times he thought about being the one giving you your new year’s kiss were definitely nothing more than fleeting, stupid thoughts. nothing more.
which is why gyuvin is so conflicted when he walks through the door of your little friend group get together on new year’s eve, bags of snacks in hand, only to see you laughing with a guy he hasn’t seen before. there’s an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in his chest and he almost involuntarily thinks back to your conversation, to the fact that you really want to kiss someone once the clock strikes midnight — and it starts to mess with his head.
he’s quickly roped into a conversation with ricky and some of his other friends, though his eye seem to be glued to you instead of the people talking to him right in front of him; his eyes drifting back to you giggling along to whatever that strange guy was talking about every few minutes, the unsettled feeling in his chest spreading all over his body. “are you even listening?” gyuvin’s attention is ripped away from staring holes in that guys head when ricky addresses him directly, ricky’s hand on his shoulder bringing him back to reality.
“yeah, sorry.” the smile on gyuvin’s face is tight, ricky glancing to where you’re still speaking to the guy and it all makes sense to him. he sends gyuvin a sympathetic look and tries to keep up the conversation, though it’s clear gyuvin’s mind is entirely preoccupied.
when the calls for new snacks start, gyuvin immediately volunteers to filling the bowls back up in the kitchen, if only to avoid his eyes from drifting back to you and the guy — whose name is seunghan, he learned — and in turn dampening his mood even further. today is supposed to be fun, why is he moping around like this?
“what did the chips do to you? you’re practically glaring ar them,” gyuvin’s head whips around at your voice, the playful smile on your face lifting some of the heaviness in his chest when he sees you standing in the doorway.
“oh, hey.” gyuvin gives you a small smile and goes back to his snack duties while trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “who’s the guy you’ve been talking to? you bring him along?”
shaking your head you reach over to steal a handful of cheese puffs gyuvin had just emptied into a bowl, “not me, but ahrin. his name is seunghan and she has her eye on him,” you mumble, “he’s funny and they both seem to like each other.” gyuvin nods, hand absentmindedly playing with his sleeves, “you think she’ll go for the new years kiss with him?” gyuvin asks, and you can tell he regrets the question as soon as he asked it.
you just shrug silently, the sudden mention of the kiss rendering you a little speechless. “ and you? you got anyone to kiss this year?” gyuvin says in an overly sarcastic tone, seemingly in an effort to loosen the tension a little. you snort at that, “ha ha, very funny. leave me and my romantic aspirations alone,” the lightheartedness in your voice makes gyuvin relax a little, and just when he’s about to speak, someone bangs against the kitchen door, demanding your attention.
“c’mon you two, we’re playing some games,” matthew calls before rushing back to the living room. you and gyuvin share a short glance before loading up on all the snacks and following suit, excited for the mess that is most definitely about to ensue.
two screaming matches, one round of (rigged, according to hao) just dance, three bowls of snacks and dozens of tears spilt through laughter later and the almost dreaded countdown to midnight is inching closer. the couples are slowly starting to separate from the group again, looking for an area that is less crowded and a little more romantic. your high mood is slowly starting to go down, the feeling of once again being the third wheel, in a way, accompanied by this off-putting feeling of loneliness in a room full of your friends bringing the self-doubt at the back of your mind to the forefront again.
gyuvin plops down next to you, stretching his long limbs with a groan, “god i hate sitting on the floor,” he looks around, the amount of couples in your friend group only now really hitting him, “damn, is that kiss really that important?” it was a rhetorical question, really, and he was speaking to himself more than anything, yet you turn to scowl at him.
you open your mouth to go on a rant about the lack of romance in gyuvin’s mindset when he suddenly turns to you, cheeks a little flushed but eyes filled with determination, “i’ll do it.”
you blink at him, “huh? do what?” gyuvin swallows, “kiss you. give you the new years kiss you want.” it takes a second for his words to register, before you splutter at him incredulously, “what— gyuvin why would we—“
“okay, time for the countdown! ten!” you hear from the other side of the room, and panic starts to fill gyuvin’s expression. “because i want to. i’ve been thinking about it ever since you mentioned it, and—“
“seven!”
“you said it was like saying that i have no idea what the new year will bring, but at least i will always have you, right?” his eyes search for yours, his pupils shaking and you nod, still a little stunned.
“four!”
“that’s exactly i want to tell you. so please—“
“three!”
“i want to be the one to give you your new years kiss. if you want—“
“two!”
and then, it happens. you grab his face and pull him close, hesitation for just a millisecond before your lips meet right as it reaches midnight. the fireworks outside colouring the sky feel almost pathetic in comparison to the burst of emotions exploding in your chest, it’s warm and fuzzy and just feels so right.
both of your faces are flushed bright red as your lips separate, but neither of you can keep from biting back the goofy smiles spreading on your faces. before you can even begin to think of something to say gyuvin leans back in, pressing another kiss to your lips.
and another. and another…and another.
you only separate for good when your giggles break through the kiss, gyuvin’s hands cupping your face, “i’d say that was a pretty good start into the new year, no?”
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nyrasbloodyclover · 4 months ago
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who else decodes you? (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)
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cw: alcoholism, eating disorder, reader wants to fix aegon, aegon is pathetic, but i love him
a/n: i am finally writing fics again! another malachy and another aegon fic coming up, but i think i'll continue writing for daemon bc i miss him.
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Targaryens were very strange. Well, I was only friends with Helaena, but being her friend also meant spending time with her family, as much as I didn't want to. She always invites me to their dinners and movie nights, so naturally, her brothers were also there. Their mother was always warm and welcoming, Alicent wasn't the issue, at least not to me. Nor was Aemond. He ignored me most of the time, which I had no problem with.
Whenever I stayed over, Aegon always found a way to bother me. When we watch a movie, he keeps tugging on my hair, or touching my neck in a very annoying way, I slapped his hand once and caused all of the attention to focus on us, which was so embarrassing  I immediately went home.
When I started dating my first and only boyfriend he somehow found out and mocked me until Helaena started yelling. She never does that.
Aegon was walking down the hallway when he saw me and Haelena sitting on her bed, with an open door, so he took that as his invite after hearing our conversation. He peeked from the door. "He's only waiting the right time. To fuck you, I mean."
My cheeks started burning. "Are you jealous?" I had no better answer to his remark.
"How could I be?" He grinned, ready for me to bite back, but when I didn't, he just giggled, "You'll just feel used after he's done with you."
Then Helaena snapped and kicked him out, cursing, which was the funniest thing, I couldn't even feel bad.
It turned out he was right, but not the way he thought. I couldn't stop thinking about his words, so I broke up with that guy. And then I found out he started dating someone, only to fuck her then leave her. Almost the whole school was talking about it, so he saved me from that humiliation. I was never going to admit it, though.
He was the strangest and most rebellious from the three of them. Aegon was drinking. Aegon was fucking. Aegon smoked and went to parties he was not supposed to. Actually, he was just harming himself, but nobody wanted to see that. It was like everybody turned their heads when it came to him, but it wasn't my place to comment on it.
He occupied my mind more than I'd like to admit. With all his unnecessary comments and devilish grins, Aegon got under my skin. 
Helaena once accidentally left her charger at my house and asked me to bring it to her. I had nothing to do, so I immediately went to her. What I didn't know was that nobody was home.
Well except for, obviously, Aegon.
I knocked once, then twice, but when no one opened I just entered. The house was empty. Or so I thought for the first few seconds. Until I heard muffled sobbing.
My whole body went rigid. I was invading someone's privacy at that very moment and I needed to go back home, but I couldn't. I knew the cries were coming from Aegon and it made everything worse. 
I went upstairs, dragging my feet towards his room. I didn't have to do anything. I could just go back and pretend I didn't hear anything. He was probably waiting to be alone, to have a moment to break down and I was ruining it.
"Aegon?" I thought he was going to be startled, yell at me to go away, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence. He was on the floor of his room, covered in vomit and spit, probably, with an empty bottle of god knows what. I wanted to cry.
His mouth was half opened, face relaxed for a second, then it became painful again, new set of tears coming through. I kneeled beside, holding his shoulders, "Aegon, can you hear me?" I wasn't panicking because it would do more harm than good. I gently pushed away his sweaty hair. 
I didn't know what was happening but I was going to help him before someone could see him like this. It was obvious that he did stuff like that when no one was near.
I ran to the bathroom first and took some towels, then to the kitchen for a glass of water. I somewhat had experience with things like this.
It was the middle of the day and he was wasted. 
I went to him and took his head into my lap while I cleaned away the vomit.
"I'm sorry." He turned his head away from me.
"It's okay," I whispered, "But please cooperate. You need to get into the shower." Aegon said nothing, but let me continue cleaning his face and neck.
"Come on, let me take off your shirt, Aegon please."
I somehow got him out of his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. He was so beautiful, and it hurt me to watch him like that. What a pretty, broken creature. He had tattoos over his arms and ribs that were much more prominent than last summer. We went to the pool together with Helaena and Aemond and I couldn't help but notice that change.
We managed to get into the bathroom and I dragged him under the shower, letting cold water shock him. His hair was soaking wet, I took another towel and tried to dry him as much as I could.
My heart was racing, he was completely depending on me in that moment and I was so scared someone was going to see us. 
We were in his room once again, Aegon on his bed, under the covers. I quickly cleaned his room, got rid of the dirty clothes and towels I used and hid the bottle. I sat beside him.
"Aegon, you need to eat something." 
"No."
"I'm afraid you have no control over that now." 
"No...don't want to..." 
"I will feed you if you don't do it yourself and I'll tell Aemond." His eyes immediately opened. 
"You wouldn't dare," he mumbled.
"I would." 
I brought him some leftover pizza from the fridge and he ate it, barely moving his jaw, he was almost unconscious. He drank some more water and finally closed his eyes, drifting away. I stroked his hair once more and then left after Sunfyre came into his room.
When I got home, a text from Haelena appeared on my screen.
Sorry for leaving my stuff, won't happen again (I think) <3
I smiled and answered her, because I knew it was going to happen but then one more message came.
Aegon says thank you
Don't know what for though 
I was realived that she didn't know about my little moment with Aegon. I wanted to keep that between us. He wasn't going to remember any of it tomorrow and I couldn't say I was glad.
A month later, Aegon moved out. He still visited home and stayed some nights, mostly when he went out. It set an alarm in my head, now that he was completely alone, he could do what he wanted as much as he wanted. It scared me.
When I started going out I started seeing him more, which didn't help. I couldn't stop thinking about the day I saw him almost poisoned, he let me take care of him in that vulnerable state. It had to mean something, right? Or nothing. He was drugged, nothing more.
When I was with my friends, sipping on my wine, trying to stay as sober as I could, I saw Aegon at the table across from us with some of his stupid friends and a girl on his lap, eating his face. He was hard to miss, with his almost white hair and eyes so blue they were practically violet. I spilled some wine on my golden shirt, but didn't care at the moment.
He stopped for a second to take a shot and then continued kissing her. I didn't know how he could drink after being so sick from alcohol that day. 
I watched him—No— I stared and all of my friends noticed, but to make everything worse, Aegon opened his eyes mid make out session with that girl and locked his gaze with mine. My stomach made a turn. The girl he was kissing didn't notice that his attention was on me. His eyes were intense, but his intention unclear, at least to me. I felt bad for the girl immediately so I broke eye contact.
She wasn't there when he needed someone. I was. Poisonous words.
One of my friends gripped my forearm, "What was that ?" 
"What was what?" I asked, my vision becoming hazy. I took the wine glass and quite literally shoved the rest of alcohol down my throat. And almost threw up.
"You, eye-fucking Aegon Targaryen from across the room?"
"I wasn't." My face was hot. Red wine. From red wine, yes.
"Oh, really?" She pulled out her phone with a photo, of me staring at something, someone, you couldn't see clearly who on the picture, but she was right. "Oh, my god! Delete that. GET RID OF IT!" I was eye-fucking Aegon!
"Told you!" She shouted over the music. 
I laughed. Then giggled. I couldn't believe. Then ordered another drink, until I couldn't see Aegon anymore. I was convinced that my mind would think more clearly without alcohol clouding it. I never ever thought about him like that. 
It was red wine, I thought. 
It wasn't red wine. The next day I couldn't stop thinking about him. I kept replaying the moment he turned his gaze towards me. The goosebumps, the pressure in my stomach and heat I felt throughout my whole body. 
Helaena asked me to hang out later that day. I obviously said yes because I adore her, but an unsettling feeling came and I knew exactly why. Aegon was probably going to be there, even though he had his own place.
I entered their house and everything was silent. I went to Helaena's room that was plastered with posters of bugs and pretty stones and her crazy drawings. She was reading a book and smiled when I came in.
"Where is everyone?"
"Mother is at work, Aemond at the library and Aegon is sleeping. He drank too much last night. As usual." She said that like it's no big deal. It bothered me. It bothered me that I cared enough to ask her about it.
"And none of you have a problem with that? I mean if I drank as much as him, my mother would actually kill me." I laughed so it wouldn't sound suspicious.
 "Well...No, not really. At the end of the day, It's just Aegon." I nodded, like I was agreeing with her, but that was far from the truth. We changed the topic but my mind always kept coming back to him. I couldn't stop.
"I'm just going to the bathroom," I said and left her room, I needed a splash of cold water on my face.
But instead of going directly to the bathroom, my eyes turned towards Aegon's room. The door was open, so I could clearly see him really sleeping on his bed, wearing a green hoodie, looking almost angelic. His hair was all over his forehead, his lashes gently touching his cheeks and he was hugging one of his pillows, comfortably snuggled. I wanted to stare at him for the next five hours but that just was not possible. Sunfyre ran into his room and jumped beside him. 
Aegon's eyes fluttered and my heart stopped, I thought I was going to get caught, but I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really. He frowned as he slowly opened his eyes and I couldn't move. His frown turned into self-satisfied smile but he just turned to the other side and continued sleeping. He didn't see me. 
Did he?
I quickly went back to Helaena's room, trying not to think about Aegon's perfect face, his soft hair and lips or the last night's encounter. Impossible.
She asked me to sleep over and I agreed after calling my mom. I wasn't too tired, since I slept good part of the day. We talked, ordered food, watched a rom-com. It was fun.
Haelena fell asleep and I went downstairs to clean the dishes, trying not to wake up anyone, it was almost three in the morning.
While I washed our cups I felt someone's presence behind me.
I turned my head. "Hello, Aegon. Why are you up so late?"
"I just woke up." His eyes were heavy, his words slow. Hungover, still in his green hoodie, hair messy.
"Well, are you hungry? There is some food left, Helaena and I-"
"Why do you act as if I'm a child?" He frowned. "I can eat if I'm hungry." He snapped suddenly at me.
I sighed, leaving rest of the dishes in the sink. I turned to face him.
"But you're not going to, am I right?" He said nothing.
"Aren't you hot in that?" I nodded towards his hoodie. I was in a top and low-rise shorts and I was still sweating like crazy.
"I can take it off if you want, mother." I couldn't breathe. I recognized mockery behind his words, it came to me like a slap. I knew that I was mothering him and he knew that too, which made everything even more embarrassing.
"No, thank you, I've already seen too much." I meant that as a lighthearted joke but his whole face darkened. Aegon's shoulders slouched and went stiff. He was silent.
"I didn't ask you to be there. I didn't ask for your help."
"Aegon, no, I didn't mean it like that. I could've walked out and then what?" I whispered at him, angry that he's not reading my emotions right. "Helaena calls me and tells me you're dead? That you choked on your own vomit?"
"Stop being dramatic, stop it. None of you understand, so quit trying to act as if you do. It's pathetic."
"Tell me one thing," I got closer, "When was the last time your own mother cared enough to even wonder what is happening with her son?" 
Aegon wasn't even offended by my statement. "Oh, okay, so you noticed. It was that obvious." He shook his head. I hated our conversation, but I also felt some kind of thrill when speaking to him like that. I wanted to know more.
"When did you start drinking? It seemed like you had a fair share of wine and...other things last night." He was changing the subject and I was glad.
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Aegon."
"Well, then, you should come to my place sometime. I have a wine collection we could try out." 
My face heated, but then I remembered that he obviously has a problem. And I can't use him like that, no matter how much I wanted to get wasted with him and see where would that take us.
"Thanks for the invite, but I'll pass." Before I walked out of the room, I turned to face him once again, "And try not to make a mess again." I wanted to beg him to stop hurting himself but I was nothing to him, not even a friend, so I had no right to tell him what to do to his body.
"Not promising anything."
I was getting ready to go out, putting on red lipstick, mascara, some glitter over my arms and chest. 
I wore leather mini skirt and a black top that matched perfectly. I wish I thought about anything other than the fact that Aegon's apartment was so close to the club we were going to. What if— No. 
I had to stop myself from finishing that thought but I suddenly wanted to be near him, as near as possible.
I had a few drinks. Maybe more than few. Because you should either go big or go home. And I always followed that rule. I wanted Aegon to be there, my eyes were searching for him everywhere, until my head started spinning, that good, freeing feeling kicking in. I was brave enough now. I could do whatever I wanted.
"Should I take away your phone?" One of my friends shouted over the music.
"I'll behave. Promise." I smiled to myself, an idea already forming in my head. "I'm going to the bathroom, It'll be quick." They just nodded and I went in, sharp white lights blinding me. Everything was too bright, too loud. It was funny. I smiled to myself.
Some girls were inside too, but I didn't bother looking at them. I took out my phone, grinning, and found Aegon's contact.
Helllllllooooiiiiooooo
I didn't expect him to reply to me at all, but my heart did a jump when he replied. We never texted before.
hello? 
My fingers were almost numb and I genuinely had no idea what I was sending him.
AREE YOU BORRED?
certainly not now. u drunk?
I called him and he immediately picked up.
"Aegggoooonnnn?"
"What the fuck..." I guess he was just surprised. I laughed at him and when I gathered myself, I wanted to hang up because I genuinely had nothing to say to him, at least nothing that made any sense. But the reckless part of my brain won.
"Can I come over?" I grinned, he could not see it tho.
He was silent for a while. "Alone?" 
The girls in the bathroom giggled. 
"Yes, alone, you whore."
"I do live close, but you, my girl, are hammered."
"Oh my god, you said 'my girl'."
"It was just an expression."
"No it was not. Come pick me up, please. I helped you once, you should help me too!"
"And what do you suppose we do at my place? You can barely speak properly."
Oh, I did not want to say it. But he knew, And I also knew. 
"Nevermind, I'll call a cab."
"You don't know the adress."
I laughed again and hung up. I knew the adress, Helaena told me.
One of the girls in the bathroom looked at me, smiling, "Was that your boyfriend?"
"Hell, no." 
"So you just plan on hooking up with him, drunk? Do you think he'll want that?"
"To take advantage of my fragile and vulnerable state when I'm clearly not thinking right? Yeah. He can't wait."
"Be careful, I heard it's painful when you're drunk."
That was SO funny. So I cracked up. "If you saw him, you wouldn't think that." I had to stop talking, half of them probably knew Aegon, or fucked Aegon! 
I ditched my friends, that was not the right move, but I texted them my location and that everything is fine.
My feet were hurting but I hardly felt it. Cold night air was a nice change, I thought I might suffocate from the cigarette smoke. 
I called the cab and in five minutes I was in front of Aegon's door. 
Thank god I had one more drink before heading out, I couldn't be sober now. I was much braver, and let's hope Aegon lacked morals like I thought.
I knocked and waited, I was completely sure I heard his footsteps and then door opened. It took everything in me not to jump on him in that moment because I never saw him look so... comfortable.
His hair was a bit shorter, disheveled and Aegon's face seemed so soft. "Hi." I smiled and reached for his face, but his hand stopped me. His hand...
Yeah, I was too drunk.
He let me in and I jumped on his couch. I had no capacity of looking around. Everything was spinning. I sat on it, staring at his ceiling.
He was standing over me and he looked pretty pissed off.
"Why are you here?"
"I missed you!"
"Stop with the nonsense or I'm kicking you out."
"It's not nonsense! How dare you?" I laughed, "Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"
He started mumbling to himself and walked away, only to be back with a huge glass of water.
"Nooooo! You're so boring! Aren't you the one who wants to fuck every living, breathing woman."
"Yes, I am. Now drink this."
"Oh, I know. You spiked it." I laughed again. Everything was really funny.
"What the fuck? No, actually, you're not right in the head now. It's fucking water. You need to sober up."
"Why? I though you'd fuck anyone."
"So that's why you're here...Yeah, no."
"What? Am I that despicable? You want anyone, just not me? Really nice."
"I want...I want you to fucking drink this. And start sobering up. Then tell me what you want."
"Oh, you'll see." I took the glass from his hand and gulped it down. He brought me some food and I started eating like a starved animal.
"Aren't you going to join me?"
"No." 
"I actually never saw you eat in the last year and a half." It was an accusation.
"Why are you so obsessed with me and eating? You need to relax."
"Aegon." I glared at him. He said nothing.
"I know what's going on and you have to quit it. I've seen you shirtless. It's scary. Plus the drinking—"
"What do you want? To save me somehow? Fix me?"
"Yes. I helped myself, I'm going to help you."
"I don't want that."
"Bullshit. Aegon, you're ruining your life. You don't eat enough and drink more than I do. That's concerning."
"Are you sober yet?"
"Yes," I lied. I still felt dizzy and brave enough to continue fighting with him.
"What will Helaena think?"
"About what?"
"Me fucking you when you're obviously still drunk and lying to me. Also, you can try to fix me and don't get mad if you fail."
It was like a dream come true. He gave me a permission and that I've always secretly wanted.
"Which one first? Do we fuck or do I try to fix you, as you say?"
"Surprise me."
I congratulated myself for wearing an outfit that was so easy to take off. Now I was standing in front of him in my underwear and he was as serious as ever.
I took a handful of his t-shirt and tugged on it, trying to take it off. He finally let me do it and then I pushed him backwards on his couch. I sat on his lap, straddling him and for a moment I just stared with the biggest grin. "You have no idea for how long I wanted this."
"And you needed to get drunk to actually do it?"
"You're intimidating." I bowed down and kissed him on the cheek, then on the neck, throat and I did it slowly, it was torture for both of us.
I finally reached his lips and I let myself feel his breath for a moment, before pressing my mouth to his. We moved in sync with each other, but I was desperate for more of him. 
"You should've been the one to ruin me. I wouldn't have regretted it."
Aegon closed his eyes as my hand went down his sweatpants, feeling him grow harder and harder with each passing second. But then he turned his face away from me.
"Please get off." Okay, I can't say that it didn't hurt. Especially coming from him. I sat beside him, trying to recover myself from the sudden emotions.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine, I just can't do it with you. Not yet. Sorry."
"Is that improvement I hear? Not being with a wasted girl?" I joked and thankfully he smiled. I smiled back.
"Go shower, you drunk. You reek of alcohol."
"You sound just like my fatheeeer." He basically pulled me into the bathroom and got out so that I could clean up. Aegon even left me his green hoodie, that green hoodie, but I didn't want to wear it.
"Aegon!" I was really feeling better, I felt like I could finally think clearly.
"Yes?" I heard his voice behind the door.
"It's okay, you can come in." I had a towel around me and as soon as he stepped in, his eyes shamelessly went over me, I hid my smile.
Aegon cleared his throat, "What is it?"
"Can you get me another?" I picked up the green hoodie and gave it to him.
"What's wrong with this one?"
I crossed my hands nervously. Yes, I was totally sober. "I want you to wear it." He looked taken aback by my request. It was a strange one, indeed, but at least there was a chance he's going to fulfill my wishes.
"But...You know what? Nevermind. I'll wear it."
He was so beautiful and he actually looked rested. I was sure he had been drinking, but there was no alcohol in sight. His whole apartment was mostly empty, but clean. I didn't know this side of Aegon existed. Then, he lied about his wine collection.
I followed him into his bedroom and he turned on the lights. Again, empty, no pictures, no decorations, just plain white walls and king-size bed. He opened his closet and threw another hoodie at me, while I was still in a towel. I took my underwear, at least, I was decent like that.
He didn't bother asking me to let him change, he just took off his shirt, revealing his bare torso and the tattoos I loved so much, but had no idea what they meant. He was scarred from the inside and it was starting to show but I said I won't let that happen.
"You quit drinking?" My eyes were on his face now, he was completely dressed.
"I am trying," he was staring at the floor, "How'd you know?"
"I had a feeling." He was a lot calmer, he didn't look so tired and there were no bottles in sight. It seemed like moving out was his best decision yet. I didn't know what triggered his urges, but I was glad he was on his own now.
I put on the clothes he gave me and we went back into his living room. We sat beside each other.
"About earlier..." He started.
"I should apologize, I shouldn't have drank that much and you shouldn't have seen it."
"I am glad it was me and not someone else. But I'm sorry I disappointed you."
"What? How?" I frowned, genuenly confused if he was still talking about the same thing.
"I backed out in the last second. I'll make it up to you, I swear."
"Aegon. I was drunk and out of my mind. I wouldn't have regretted it, but...I want to do it again, when I can remember everything clearly. If you want it too, that is."
He looked at me like a lost puppy and it broke my heart, I didn't know the details about his habits, or his friends that were clearly effecting his life in all the worst ways. All of that made him think that everything is his fault and that he deserved no better.
"Are you nuts? Of course I want to. It's like my most bizarre dream, you, drunk throwing yourself at me—"
"Oh, I wasn't—" Yeah, I was.
"You were, darling, and I rejected you. What a dumb cunt."
I laughed and felt comfortable for the first time with him, because there was no one else who could judge and interrupt. 
It was almost 5AM and my eyes felt so heavy I couldn't keep them open anymore.
"You should take me on a proper date, Aegon." I unconsciously rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes finally. It was too good to be true.
"And ruin my reputation? Yes, I think I should."
Sleep came over me and I felt Aegon shift under my body, until I was laying on top of him, my head on his chest. He was stroking my hair.
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sixosix · 7 months ago
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STOOPPP I LOVE THE CREATIVITY OF YOUR EVENT
ALSO. TURNING EIGHTEEN?? HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN ADVANCE 🎊🥳🎉🎈 AND CONGRATS ON 5K REEEEEEE YOU DESERVE EVERY LAST BIT OF SUPPORT !!!!
Can I request something with heizou with glasses as the object? Fluff, please, and I can't wait to see what you'll come up with for this event!!!!!!
wc 500, modern high school au; thank you so much!! :D YOU ARE SO SWEET!! i hope u enjoy this bc i recognize u as one of my loyal readers i gotta not disappoint!
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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“How about you, bro? Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?”
Itto was looking at Heizou with wide eyes, expectant. You had no idea how free-time led straight to this conversation, but everyone was sharing their crushes in the other class or a whole school away. Most of the class was huddled together in a circle, watching the exchange with equal faces of amusement and anticipation. You sat on the same side but made yourself comfortable in a corner, swaddled in a brown cloud-patterned hoodie.
Heizou hummed thoughtfully, drawing it out as everyone else held their breath while you held in a laugh. “A crush? Why do you want to know?”
“Come on, dude, we all wanna know what Shikanoin Heizou’s type is! Right? Don’t we?” Itto grinned at the affirmative murmurs that erupted all around. Perhaps it was because, to them, Heizou was the most mysterious one of all—he knows everything about anyone, but it wasn’t the same when it came to him.
Heizou just laughed. Itto pouted, then whipped his head around to direct his attention to you.
Flinching under his fiery gaze, you demanded, “W-What?”
“You’re best bros with him, aren’t you? You gotta know what his type is! He never talks about the girls in our school!”
Well. It would be for the best if he didn’t. You shook your head and matched Heizou’s amused grin. “I don’t know, either, honestly. He’s probably too busy burying his face in mystery novels to care about all that.”
Itto visibly sagged. “Lame. You two are so lame! Well— what about you? Do you have a type?”
“Of course I do.” The class perked up, interested. They began piping up with a list of names and features—tall, serious, light-haired. Heizou was slowly getting more agitated by each feature that described his complete opposite. “I like smart guys.”
Itto nodded. “I guess you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
You chuckled. “You got me right there.”
Heizou’s chair scraped the floor, followed by his light footsteps. You watched, heart racing, as he made his way towards you before pinning his arms on your desk.
“You never told me that,” Heizou said. “Have I told you my type?”
You grinned. “Do you even have one?”
Heizou drew closer. Your vision blurred, and you went cross-eyed trying to follow him. Lumine, who was sitting peacefully beside you, inched away.
“When they wear glasses—just like this one,” Heizou whispered, your lenses fogging a little from his breath.
Your face burned.
“Wait, what? What did he say? Did anyone catch that?” Itto huffed when no one did, in fact, hear that—which was for the best. They didn’t have to know how deep Heizou’s voice got as he stared right into your eyes.
“Well,” Heizou leaned back and smiled innocently at the class and a despaired Itto, “this was an enlightening conversation, but I realized I don’t actually know my best bud that well. You understand, right, Itto?”
Itto nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah—yes! I know, man, I get it. Real buds have serious conversations—I understand. You’re welcome for rekindling your friendship.”
“Thanks, man,” Heizou said distractedly, taking your hand and leading you out of the classroom.
“They’re such best buds,” Itto said, starting to cry.
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ma1dita · 9 months ago
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🐥 a lil something for jason grace? just yk him meeting hephaestus!reader for the first time at camp half blood and she's this bubbly girl who befriends everyone cuz that's just how she is and like she offers everyone solutions to material problems like aphrodite kids with vanity mirrors that light up on their own, apollo kids with medical kits that look small outside but has TONS of storage, demeter kids with self watering pots, etc
reader gives him a welcome gift (leo and piper too), a compact watch sword thingy like percy's and jason's like new to this bcs all his life he's been treated like a prince in waiting, a leader most of the time and he hasn't had anyone do something for him cuz its usually him doing things
ooh and a lil bit of leo valdez teasing him bcs of him blushing when she's around cuz reader is his sister basically, same dad and all
Thank you and happy bday again!
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
jason grace x hephaestus!reader
a/n: this was so cute but pls lmk if i got his character right...i had to reference my irl pjo bestie for this i love this boy
wc: 766
Jason Grace thinks you talk too much.
And too fast. It’s one of the first things he noticed about Camp Half-Blood weirdly enough, besides the nagging feeling that he didn’t belong there. There wasn’t so much as a day where he wouldn’t see you whizzing past campers offering to tinker items to make their lives easier, and he could barely keep up—which says a lot for a boy raised to be a soldier.
It was like you set everything alight, and the flames you left in your midst could not be tamed; everyone was enamored by you, and admittedly, so was he. The son of Jupiter was sure his brain had short-circuited along with everything else going on but all of his worries were dashed when you presented him with a wristwatch shield.
Jason blinks slowly.
“Are you listening? Do you like it? I can change the finish on it or scrap it completely if you don’t think it’s cool, or maybe it's too big? Let me see your wrist—Jace?”
You wave your hand in his face before grabbing his arm, encircling his wrist with the metal links to make sure your creation fits him comfortably.
Too torn between the predicament of being raised by fucking wolves and training for a war that no one knows the start date of, Jason Grace has not had too much time to acquaint himself with the matters of the heart. So in his eyes, this poor sweetheart thought your welcome gift was the equivalent of a marriage proposal, or something like that…
Your half-sibling Leo thought this was hilarious of course, his teasing grin stoking the fire in the pit of Jason’s stomach when he asked to see it. The blond boy was gentle with your gift, shaking his head at the notion that it meant anything, that you were just kind to everyone, and nothing about it whatsoever makes him special.
Okay buddy…
So of course when you came to confront him about Leo’s taunting that had reached all of the inhabitants of cabin 9 (and the armory, and the counselors, and even Chiron and Mr. D—the biggest gossips of Camp Half-Blood), Jason Grace, a boy who usually has his shit together, was reduced to the phenomenon of being an embarrassed teenager with a crush.
You were standing a little too close for his liking and even if he towered over you, the blaze in your eyes could incite fear in the gods.
“Just because I'm nice and do things for you doesn’t mean that I like you, Jason Grace,” you say adamantly as you cross your arms over your chest. He notices the smudge of soot on your cheekbone, and thinks it looks quite pretty against your complexion.
“Of course.”
“I gave you the wristwatch shield as a welcome gift,” you say next, to which he nods since it’s a fact.
“Of course, I didn’t mea—”
“I mean you’re always protecting others, so I thought someone should protect you for a change,” you mutter, watching him scratch the nape of his neck as your smile spreads like gasoline touched by a lit match. He can’t help but embrace the burn (His serious demeanor is broken by the smile on his face, so big that it almost hurts).
“But you are right, I do like you. Suppose we’ll have to do something about that.”
Thinking hard about the confession that left your mouth, you look like you’re working through a methodical problem to solve— finding the missing piece to a puzzle instead of making the son of Jupiter's face heat up like a thousand suns. He reckons there’s an ambush inside of him as something starts to work harder than usual, not his brain overridden by battle tactics and that of survival— but his heart, beating fast like a well oiled machine (and more importantly like a normal teenage boy). 
Jason reaches out to rub the soot away from your cheek, but when you pull him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him, he finds himself to be stained by you all the same.
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7s3ven · 10 months ago
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Hii I loved your daughter of hades x luke fic when is part 2 coming out?? But I had an idea like what if something happened that got her mad and something happens with her flames like they turn black or blue and is like a really strong flame and then luke comes sees this and calms her down and people are like ohh woowww.. bcs he was the only one that could do that
Part 2 is coming out soon! :). For now, I’ll write a short(ish) one shot about your cute idea! 😽. This can be read as a standalone but it makes references to the og so if some parts don’t make sense, you know why.
( master list )
HELL-FIRE : part 1 / part 2 (in progress)
( this is a little spin-off from hell-fire )
Luke (PJO) x Hades! Reader
A/N : completely unrelated, but I believe I could write the most toxic things if I tried hard enough.
Warnings : injuries, y/n and luke making out at the end but I didn’t write it very descriptive just in case lol
Y/N was never one to participate in capture the flag. She always came up with a weak excuse to skip it and Chiron had to let her past in fear she’d blow up the camp. Again. It had happened a few times actually.
“Why won’t you play capture the flag?” Luke asked as he shoved a chip into his mouth. The pair were on their routinely midnight walks, which had become a regular thing after their first stroll. Y/N wasn’t so keen on getting caught again but Luke could be very persuasive.
“It’s just a game.” Y/N lightly scoffed, gripping the bluebird chip packet tightly so it didn’t fall out of her grasp. “I don’t see what the big deal is… there’s nothing appealing about it.” She mindlessly shrugged.
“Hm, I can think of a few reasons why you should play.” Luke grinned while Y/N arched an eyebrow, somewhat curious. “Firstly, I’ll be playing with you. Secondly, we’ll probably win. And don’t forget about the glory.”
“Glory is fine but you know what’s better? Not breaking a leg in a stupid game.” Y/N sarcastically smiled while Luke rolled his eyes. During Y/N’s first and only game, she had broken a leg. Granted, it happened while she was rolling down a steep hill.
“Come on, Blaze. You’ll love it.” He assured her, patting her back.
“I’ll hate it even more if you’re with me.” She grumbled in response, her tough facade never faltering. But Luke could see the apples of her cheeks turning pink and he noticed the way Y/N’s eyes darted to glance at him. She couldn’t help but let her eyes flicker to his lips for a split second.
“Why do you love such a game anyway? It’s a waste of time.” She shoved her hands into her pockets.
“Annabeth is captain and she’d be overjoyed if you came. I think she has a kiddy crush on you.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N rolled her eyes for what seemed like the fifth time in an hour.
“Nobody has a crush on me.” She uttered, kicking a small stone across the grass. Luke’s eyebrows raised and he paused.
“Okay… what does that make me then?”
Y/N quickly turned her head to look at him. She spluttered, tripping over her own words as her mind tried to decipher his statement. Y/N was always calm and collected but only Luke had seen this side of her. The flustered side, the embarrassed side. “You… you’re lying.” She finally decided on something to say.
Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play jokes on me, Luke.”
“You think my affection is a joke? Blaze, I literally get you flowers every day and watch you burn them then throw the petals away. Have you noticed how I don’t give flowers to anyone else?”
“It’s a stupid gesture.” She muttered, “Besides,” Y/N cleared her throat, looking away like she was embarrassed. “I don’t always throw the petals out… sometimes I keep them.”
“Oh, charming, witty, and a hopeless romantic. So, what’s the reason you hate capture the flag so much?”
“It’s stupid. That’s the only reason. People take it too seriously here.” Y/N signed, shoving the bag of chips into Luke’s arms.
“Play one game with me?” Luke asked. Y/N frowned, shaking her head.
“Not a chance. Nice try, though." Y/N briefly smiled before she walked back towards her cabin. Luke was quick to rush after her.
“One game. For Annabeth, at least. She likes your style of fighting.” He begged, blocking her path. He clasped his hands together, pleading her. Y/N sighed at his pitiful attempt but she was tired and every time she tried to step around him, he stopped her.
“Fine.” She snapped. Luke’s eyes lit up and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel her lips twitch into a small grin at his happy demeanour. “Good night, Luke.” She said, bumping his shoulder as she brushed past him.
“Night, Blaze.” He called out after her, “I can’t wait to kick Clarisse’s ass tomorrow!” Y/N huffed in amusement.
“Don’t let her hear you say that.” She uttered, yanking open her rickety cabin door. It creaked and Y/N almost cringed. She’d have to ask someone to fix it for her. The door handle was almost falling off too.
“Hey, Y/N, catch.” Luke unexpectedly tossed something red towards her. She barely managed to grasp the strange object. She stared down at it, shaking her head.
“Did you seriously just give me a pomegranate?” She asked, but she didn’t burn the gift this time.
Luke shrugged as he walked towards her once more. “I heard it’s your favourite fruit.” He said, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. It was, which was ironic considering the story about Hades and Persephone. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Blaze.” He tucked a stray lock of Y/N’s H/C hair behind her ear, smiling. He was far too close for comfort but Y/N’s body made no move to shove him away. She didn’t know if she even wanted to move.
“You should go, Luke. Before we get in trouble again.” She muttered. Luke cleared his throat, nodding.
“Right… yeah. I’ll leave.” His eyes flickered to her lips for a moment just as Y/N’s had before he thickly swallowed. “Sweet dreams, Blaze.”
The moment he was out of her sight, Y/N hurried into her cabin and slammed the door behind her. She buried her hot face in the palms of her hands, quietly groaning in frustration as she slid down the wall.
She was starting to fall for Luke.
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Y/N fiddled with her metal helmet. She aimlessly rocked back and forth on her heels, taking notice of the gazes she was receiving. It was rare for Y/N to even be outside, let alone play a game of capture the flag.
She could see Luke talking to Annabeth and quickly excusing himself to jog over to Y/N’s side. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to show up.” He chuckled.
“This is stupid.” She muttered, scoffing.
“And yet you’re still here.” Luke slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her towards Annabeth. “Hey, Annie, look who decided to join us.” The young girl’s eyes lit up and she sent Y/N a small smile.
“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming, Luke?” Annabeth questioned.
“I only convinced her yesterday.” Luke shrugged, “But she’s joining us now so will that change the plan or?”
“Of course it will.” Annabeth sighed, annoyed with Luke.
“If it makes it easier,” Y/N piped up, “I can just guard the flag.” Annabeth bit down on her lower lip as she thought long and hard, mumbling to herself. She finally decided on an idea.
“I have a better position for you. You’ll be taking Luke’s place.”
“What?” The brunette boy behind Y/N questioned, “But… huh? How come I have to guard the flag? You know how much I like attacking!”
“The other kids are scared of Y/N,” The young Athena girl turned to Y/N, “No offence. Whether we let Y/N guard or flag or let her take the opposing team’s one, we’ll still win because we have an advantage that the red team doesn’t.”
Luke raised an eyebrow, “And that is?”
Annabeth heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at her brotherly figure. “We have the daughter of Hades who’s rumoured to be quite a good runner.”
“You did track?” Luke turned his head to face Y/N. She silently nodded. Annabeth ushered Luke off and he led Y/N over to his squad, which was temporarily hers. “Stay safe.” He said as he checked Y/N’s armour for the fifth time in two minutes.
“What are you, man? Her mother?” Chris teased, shoving Luke. “Stop worrying about her. We’ll keep your girl safe.” Luke sent his friend a warning glare.
“One scratch,” He said, “And I’ll tackle you.” Chris raised his arms in surrender.
“You got it, captain.”
Y/N fumbled with her heavy sword. She bit the inside of her cheek, watching as her teammates effortlessly fought off the opposing team. The words Annabeth whispered in her ear swirled around in her mind.
“You’re our advantage, Y/N. I need you to lie low and don’t give your strengths away. Act weak, to put it simply. Once you reach the flag, go full out.”
Y/N’s sword clashed with another and she pushed the girl back, causing her to stumble. Chris disarmed the captain of the squad and she reluctantly gave up due to the sword being held at her throat.
The game felt like hours to Y/N. Every turn they took proved a new challenge. Y/N had opted to hiding behind trees to save her energy, something she wasn’t proud of but Annabeth had full faith in her. She didn’t want to let the poor girl down.
“No sign of Clarisse.” Chris said, expecting the curly-haired girl to jump out with her spear. But she didn’t, only confusing the blue team more. “She usually hunts here for the first two hours or so.”
Y/N licked her dry lips. She was at the back of the group but when she spoke, everybody turned in unison to look at her with hawk-like eyes. “They most likely changed their tactic too.” She said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“So if she’s not here,” Chris mumbled.
Y/N nodded, finishing his sentence. “Then she’s going for our flag.”
Luke, on the other hand, wasn’t having nearly as much fun as Y/N. He groaned as he circled aimlessly around the flag he was forced to guard. He knew Annabeth was lurking around somewhere with that invisible cap of hers.
A twig snapped, earning Luke’s attention. His head snapped towards the sound. The forest seemed to grow quiet; the birds stopped chirping and the wind that had been howling in his air for the last hour floated away. He furrowed his brows, taking a careful step forward.
There was another snap. Luke called out to nobody in particular as he adjusted his grasp on his sword. When nothing happened, he turned back to the flag only to see that it was gone from its position perched on the rocks.
Luke ran forward, reaching out a hand to grab Clarisse’s shirt. His fingers barely wrapped around the fabric but she pushed forward and Luke lost his grip “Shit!” He yelled as he watched Clarisse run off with the flag. He angrily kicked a rock, knocking it into a nearby tree.
“Luke, what’s wrong?” Annabeth walked into the clearing, removing the hat her mother gave her.
“Clarisse has the flag.” Luke seethed, clenching his jaw. Embarrassingly enough, she stole it from right under his nose. Another one of their teammates crashed through the bushes, loudly panting and wheezing.
“Y/N has the red flag!” They exclaimed. Luke and Annabeth exchanged a look, knowing that they could still win this game if Y/N moved quick enough.
The said H/C-haired girl sprinted through the vegetation, gritting her teeth as she willed her legs to move faster. Vines and stray branches slapped her in the face, cutting her cheeks and grazing her sun-deprived skin.
The armour was slowly her down and she quickly removed her helmet, letting it crash to the ground. Her sword and shield was next. She could hear the blue team cheering in the distance as she ran, her lungs burning and her ears ringing from pushing her body past its limit.
She spotted Clarisse up ahead, also holding a flag. It was a race to see who could get to the border first. Y/N wildly panted as she approached the safe zone, not daring to slow down. She could see the fury in Clarisse’s eyes as Y/N impulsively jumped over the border in a last desperate attempt, not thinking much of it.
She hit the ground harshly, rolling and hitting a few rocks. She hard Clarisse scream in frustration, throwing the blue flag to the floor in anger.
Y/N’s teammates helped her to her feet, slapping her on the back and loudly congratulating her. But an Ares boy wasn’t as happy with Y/N’s win as her team was.
He blindly slashed his dagger at her, aiming for her face but Y/N quickly moved. The dagger cut her arm instead, splattering blood everywhere. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/N screamed, grabbing the boy’s dagger and tossing it at his shield. The metal loudly clattered against each other, causing the campers around her to flinch. “You almost slashed my face!”
“It’s not like it was worth anything anyway.” The arrogant Ares boy brushed her anger off. Y/N scoffed, taking a step towards him.
“The whole point of this stupid game is that it’s a mock fight. It’s pretend. You don’t have to actually try and slice someone in half.”
“It’s not just a stupid game.”
“You almost killed me over a game that requires you to capture a flag. So yeah, I’d say it’s stupid. And idiotic.”
He swiftly punched her. Y/N was knocked back by the force. She gasped in disbelief, feeling thick blood trail down her chin. “Are you insane, or something?!” She exclaimed, standing up. “Mentally impaired? Mentally challenged? Psychotic perhaps? The game is over, so stop trying to fucking kill me!” Her voice increased in volume the more she spoke. She could feel tendrils of rage slither up her body, wrapping around her and refusing to let go.
“You Ares kids are just like your father! Always so overconfident and obsessed with glory!”
“Like you’re any better! You have Hades as your father.” He tauntingly shoved her, “You didn’t exactly win the lottery either. At least I have siblings, you spoiled only child! The guys were right. You are pretty but you’re also a bitch. I’m surprised Luke tolerates you.”
Suddenly Y/N’s armour was melting. Thick droplets of metal pelted to the floor to join the small puddles of blood and the other campers stepped back when they spotted a small group of flames dancing across the grass.
Only, the fire wasn’t pink or blue or red this time. It was black.
“Oh, shit.” An Athena girl muttered, stumbling backwards. She grabbed another Hermes boy, clutching onto his arm. “Get Luke. Go find Luke!” She tried to calm Y/N down but nothing was working. If anything, it only made things worse.
“I don’t get why everybody’s so scared of you.” The Ares boy continued to taunt her. He circled around her, waving his sword as he laughed. “You aren’t even that strong. I’ve never even seen you play capture the flag. Is it because you’re scared you’ll ruin your nails? Or are you secretly weak?”
“Shut up.” Y/N muttered, glaring at him. It was no secret that Hades had a temper that rivalled Ares’. Unfortunately, Y/N inherited it.
“I bet daddy doesn’t even like you. You probably annoy him. I mean, you don’t fit here either. You should join your dad in hell. That’s where you belong.”
“And you belong in the infirmary with a broken neck.” Y/N snapped. The flames below her crackled, reaching out for anything to burn. You could practically see the heat rise from the fire and another Ares kid yelped in pain when the flames’ heat ate away at her leg, almost melting her flesh and creating a sizzling sound. But she was a meter away from the fire.
“Don’t get too close.” Clarisse warned anybody who tried to interfere. “It’s too hot.” The fire was slowly making a circle around Y/N and the boy, whose name Y/N finally remembered was Jordon.
Luke barged past the trees, quickly walking towards Y/N with large, meaningful steps. The flames made a path for him, like snakes that knew not to harm him.
“What the fuck, man?” Luke harshly gripped Jordon by the front of his shirt.
“Oh, her boyfriend’s come to rescue her. Hooray.”
“Shut your mouth.” Luke grumbled, dropping Jordon and scoffing. “Blaze, let’s go. Get your nose and arm patched up.” He wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, leading her away from the growing crowd.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, asshole.” Jordon sneered, “You’re getting soft, Luke. And for what? A little slut whose only achievement is having Hades as a father? She’s probably a crack whore too.”
Y/N’s temper finally snapped.
She whipped around, ignoring Luke’s warning. She drove her hardened fist into Jordon’s face. “That’s for calling Luke an asshole.” She muttered, grabbing onto the sides of head and slamming his nose into her knee. “That’s for calling me derogatory names.” She finally kicked him between the legs. Everybody watching winced in pain as Jordon fell to his knees. “And that’s for punching me, shit face!”
Her flames exploded once more, causing another cluster of panic. Luke quickly took action, grabbing Y/N by her shoulders and spinning her around. He knew words wouldn’t be enough to distract her so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her.
It was a stupid idea but her flames grew gentle once more, morphing from black to pink. The kiss was a quick one as Luke pulled back, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. But Y/N grabbed him by his necklace and pulled his forward, kissing him once more.
Chris whistled loudly from the sidelines, “Ay! Get it, man!”
Y/N’s lips tasted like metal and Luke realised he should’ve cleaned the blood off her face before kissing her. The red liquid stained his skin when he pulled away for the second time, gazing at Y/N with a vicious urge to kiss her until her lips bled. Unfortunately, Chiron arrived before Luke could sneak Y/N off.
“What’s going on here?” Chiron looked at Y/N’s injured face then at Jordon who was picking up his bloody dagger with a bruised hand. Finally, Chiron’s eyes landed on Luke’s face. Blood trailed from his mouth and smeared around his cheeks. Without context, he looked like he had just devoured somebody.
“Sir, Jordon cut Y/N’s arm, though he was aiming for her face, and punched her even after the game ended. Then he started calling her names. And uh, Luke calmed her down… somehow.” Someone from the blue team piped up, earning a glare from Jordon.
“I think it’s very obvious what Luke did to calm her. You three, see me after Y/N is treated.” Chiron demanded. Luke led her away, teasingly grinning.
“So, you wanna talk about what just happened?” He asked. Y/N scoffed, pulling him behind the Hermes cabin. His back was pressed harshly against the wood as Y/N clenched her jaw.
“You are infuriating, Luke.” She poked his chest, “And annoying. And obnoxious. And you are practically the bane of my existence… so why do I want to kiss you so bad?”
After processing her words, Luke didn’t waste a second in pulling her closer towards him. Y/N kissed him back with all her pent-up anger, frustration, and hatred towards nobody in particular and Luke welcomed her rough approach.
“Let’s get your nose and arm fixed up.” Luke uttered, not wanting to ignore Y/N’s injuries. She reluctantly followed him into the infirmary and sat down on a nearby bed. “So, was my calming technique good?” He teased.
Y/N shrugged. “It was alright.” She spoke with a joking tone and Luke grinned as her hair flared pink again. He loved watching those brightly-coloured flames, especially when he was the cause of them.
PJO TAG LIST (why is there a 50 user limit 😡) : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303
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kinokoshoujoart · 7 months ago
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CORRECT TAGS‼️‼️‼️‼️ @rn0na-lizard you are so so so correct….. my favorite ‘Normal Girl’ in hmds…….i almost never see anyone talk about these aspects of her let alone also love her for them as they should.
i feel like Leona/ DS lumina gets mischaracterized super often which is understandable bc out of all the DS candidates leona is the least like her ancestor (who i also love, for different reasons).
in AWL lumina was the only kid in the valley for a very long time, but many of the DS residents have lived in the valley their whole lives. while lumina had accepted her role as a proper young heiress by chapter 3 of AWL— and when DS begins Leona already at this point of her life— lumina still had a lingering sense of uncertainty and angst and loneliness and doubt, and unresolved worries about her parents. absolutely none of this is present with leona
in this world leona starts with Lumina’s 22 year old appearance, she’s just rich as hell and living her best life (as she deserves), she’s unabashedly shallow, puts herself first always, speaks so politely and affably yet she can be so casually cruel in the most genuine cute way and out of touch with reality and and i fucking love her and i’d die for her. my beloved girlboss girlkeep girlypop
more iconic Leona Moments
when muu/muffy asks for beauty advice leona’s recommendation is “this brand of mail order beauty cream is simply divine! and it was quite inexpensive too, just 100,000 G 🥰” everyone else looks uncomfortable and muu is like “you’re as frivolous as always….”
aside from the 3 who take literally half your money (Witch💖, moi, and thomas) leona and panama (romana) take the most money from you if they carry you home when you faint. just a couple of girl bosses holding on to their girlpire (btw shout out to sebastian, the only resident in the entire valley who carries you home for free)
neither panama nor leona attend the harvest festival, they send sebastian there by himself to test the food first lmao (if you poison it like the witch they’re harboring on their property requires you to do, sebastian is just like “i can’t serve this to Mistress Panama…”)
once again sebastian attacks mukumuku for her sake, this time not to make her a paintbrush but she told him to get her the best slippers and this was apparently the easiest way. sebastian gets fucking mauled btw
leona has hands down the best romance route in hmds. all her scenes are incredible but god the slow burn friends to lovers with your DVD player….
in her purple heart event she shows up at your house because she heard you have a DVD player, asks you to show her how it works, and then just leaves after she’s done playing with it
in her yellow heart event she has sebastian fetch van so she can buy a DVD player for herself but van’s like “i’m so sorry …. Pete… bought the last one….”
leona is so unable to stomach the idea of other people having things she doesn’t that she starts to cry and the only way to placate her is to tell her she can go to your house anytime she wants just so she can use your DVD player. that’s not a setup to a budding romance that’s her final heart event
it’s the most incredible romance arc in the world like girl you have infinite money you can just. buy a DVD player somewhere else?? “i want to watch DVDs at my house just like you!” leona you have three entire bedrooms
“rich girl love interest who has everything except love, win her heart by having genuine conversation with her”: done to death, tired, i don’t have time for that
“rich girl love interest who has everything except a fucking DVD player, win her heart by giving her expensive stuff and ‘relax tea’ and access to your DVD player”: audacious, intriguing, never been done before, innovative
if you deny her god-given right to access your DVD player she is like “Is that so……………Just let me be alone for a little bit.” incredible tragedy i understand. take as much time as you need to grieve darling
oh but her first heart event asks you to pick a side in an argument she’s having with panama and the correct answer is to say “sebastian is the one who’s wrong” (sebastian has said nothing wrong this whole time and yet both of them have just been yelling at him to shut up)
and her blue heart event is “help me find this heirloom necklace… boohoo…” and when you find it she’s like “perfect! now grandma won’t get mad at me. hmm, you seem pretty dependable…♡” augh she’s way too good at this…….!!! i’ll do anything for you!
when you propose she says “of course, i always dreamed of having a romance and a wedding♡” and says nothing abt how she feels about you <3
also if you marry her, once a week she goes to hang out at her ex love interest’s place for 6 hours straight and comes home saying “whew… i had so much fun that i must have lost track of time… i’ll hurry on home”
if you marry another girl she starts flirting with you like “I’m so envious of your wife, having such a fine husband… Pete.” (or whatever your name is)
i’ve become obsessed with her and romeo’s horrible trainwreck soap opera marriage since replaying cute in jp… it’s SO… i have so much to say about them that it should be its own post but i’ll just give the cliffnotes
shotgun wedding vibes. romeo is surprised by his own wedding. they’re childhood friends but he himself has never considered marrying her. her words to him at their wedding are “Make me happy♡” (command)
she understandably can’t stand his terrible table manners or his clothes or anything about him (except that she wants to watch him surf and have his child. but he instead walks in circles all day. coward) and he’s both really good at accidentally stepping on landmines and just ever so slightly majorly terrified of her after marriage (“but surely her angry outbursts are just her way of showing love hahahahaha” you’re going to die. she’s going to kill you). the only positive things they say about their marriage are extremely shallow. they can’t communicate with each other because romeo always says the Dumbest Shit obliviously and leona always responds by cutting him out of her life forever!!!!!! (for 5 seconds) while he has no idea what happened
they are both so melodramatic and they both just do nothing except make each other worse and run away from each other and push each other away but they can’t escape each other. neither of them ever has to grow or change if they marry each other because an elderly overworked man is sustaining both of their existences and neither of them can take care of themselves and i love them your honor
also romeo’s first crush as a kid was apparently her mom, and if leona falls for YOU she flirts by mentioning that sebastian says you look like the spitting image of her dead father. dear fucking god
they’re the epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”
romeo really does feel like her stupid lackey. like the karen to her regina. they even had this dynamic in the games they played as kids… she was the Harvest Goddess and he was Servant A/Minion A (they might still be playing this game as adults…he calls her lady/mistress sometimes after marriage…)
btw leona’s best friend (wife) marivia is also just as… there’s an event where they just gossip about all the mineral town ppl and marivia says ann would win a gluttony contest and they both giggle
there’s also an event where marivia casually walks into Witch’s hut and just interviews her so she can write her into a novel. witch is left completely drained by this exchange. leona and marivia both are so chill about the horrible cruel villainess living in leona’s shed who wants the town poisoned and rewards you for killing animals and hurting yourself and is putting curses on everyone (and they’re right. she’s never done anything wrong in her life)
#i also feel like leona and marivia summoned Witch (just girlypop things summoning hot evil ladies from hell)#i’m a marivia x leona x witch truther. the evidence is out there. evil yuri triad (real)#i also love to believe that witch is fucking with all the rival couples in the valley but ESPECIALLY romeo x leona#since she’s petty about her crush (leona) choosing the village idiot of all people#she can’t affect gustafa and nami because gustafa is like a garden gnome type that wards away evil#leona would make coquette edits of phantom skye/steiner#man i really have a lot of overlapping ships but i just like thinking about everyone together in some way#marivia was interviewing witch for a girls love leona x witch sequel in that series she wrote that has the main character based on leona#(this was revealed to me in a dream)#bokumono#harvest moon ds#hmds#harvest moon#story of seasons#hmds leona#hmds lumina#i’m sorry for going ham about your tags i promise i’m normal#^_−☆#hmds cute#i feel like everyone collectively forgot what hmds was like which is understandable because it’s a fever dream#or maybe we misremembered it from our childhoods#but replaying the girl and boy versions in english and japanese has really refreshed my views on the characters#i have so much to say about everyone mostly the rival couples#love the dysfunction and bad vibes in this game#poisoned water supply type of townsfolk#girls hour (meet up in the mines to beat each other up and slaughter various animals and humanoids to eat)#it’s such an evil game#haunted by natsume malware ghosts
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blackjackkent · 6 months ago
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Another answer for one of @astreamofstars 's prompts from this ask for this ask meme: Kiss Roulette.
"33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking - Lae'zel/character of your choice"
Some context-less Shadowzel from Act 3 after the House of Grief, bc I haven't fully figured out how to include them in Rakha's playthrough yet. XD This is my first attempt at writing this pairing; hopefully it scans well! :D
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“Do you wish me to call you Jenevelle?”
Shadowheart peers out from her tent at Lae’zel sitting by the fire. “Why would you ask that?” she snaps irritably.
It’s not a fair response, and she knows it as soon as the words are out of her mouth. To her credit, Lae’zel doesn’t flinch from the moment’s sharpness, but answers in kind. “A thing true across all planes, I find, istik, is that most prefer to be called by their names.”
“It’s not my name. My name is Shadowheart.”
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.” Lae’zel looks over her shoulder to meet Shadowheart’s eyes. A slight pause. “I am not your enemy… Shadowheart.”
Shadowheart lets out a heavy breath and her head ducks. “No,” she says. “No, you aren’t.”
She should know better, really. They certainly began as enemies, but so much has changed. They have suffered so much together. They have stood side by side, watching their religions burn to cinders in front of them, and found each other amidst the ashes.
It was meaningless sex at first, half-desire and half-anger, driven by a need for some kind of nameless forgetful oblivion where they could forget that their worlds had fallen apart. Gradually, though, it has become more than that. She has been allowed to see gentleness in the gith, and Lae’zel has been allowed to see her vulnerability in turn - and both things have been hard-won knowledge indeed, secrets held between the two of them, shown to no one else. 
Zhak vo'n'ash duj, Lae’zel called her once in a moment of passion. She hasn’t explained what it means, but Shadowheart can guess the implications.
And here she is, lashing out yet again anyway, as if it were still their first few days on the road, when preemptive strikes felt like the only way to survive. Gods, she’s so scared. Gods… it hurts.
“I’m… sorry,” she mutters, hunching her shoulders - as if still in expectation of mocking after all these months. “That wasn’t fair.”
“Chk. You owe no apologies,” Lae’zel says - still curt but quieter. “I am no yank to be felled with a harsh word. And it is not the first I have had from you, nor will it be the last.” She turns back to the fire and prods carefully at the meat roasting there, turning it carefully. “Nor would I wish otherwise.”
Shadowheart finds herself mesmerized by watching the other woman's fingers, surprisingly dexterous in counterpoint to her battering-ram combat style. “Do you know your parents?” she asks abruptly. “Did you leave family behind, in Kliir?” 
“The yanki are raised together in creche.” With quick, efficient motions, Lae'zel pulls the meat from the fire and lays it out on a platter nearby. “A cadre of nestmates is our first and only family.” She frowns. “Still, I am not blind to what you have lost.”
Shadowheart nods silently. Lae'zel's experiences are so alien at times that it is hard to imagine the places where they overlap. But they are both alone in a world full of shadowy uncertainty. 
“You're all I have left, you know.” The words emerge in a sudden rush; she looks down at her hands, ashamed without knowing why. 
And then Lae'zel's hands close over hers, calloused and rough from a life of swordwork, but gentle in their touch on her skin. 
“I am not blind to that either,” she says, her voice low. “You will not be alone while I am here.” She considers for a moment before going on, “In creche we are taught ra'quith vlaak - the frail perish. To cover for another's weakness is to open your own flank.” Her eyes lift to meet Shadowheart's, intent and serious and sad. “Perhaps once I found wisdom in this, but no more. You shall find me guarding the scarred places in you, and you shall guard mine.”
Slowly, with scrupulous care, she lifts Shadowheart's hand and presses her lips over the heavy black scar, the last mark of Shar's torments, that lingers on her skin.
Blood rushes to Shadowheart's face. She feels acutely conscious of the fact that Lae'zel has never before showed her any gesture of warmth in view of the rest of the camp. And she can see the flicker of anxiety that goes through the gith's cat's-pupil eyes with the action. 
But Lae'zel has been afraid a long time. She has never let it drive her actions - never before and not now. 
And Shadowheart feels her own courage rise in answer to it. “Yes,” she agrees softly. “As long as you'll let me.”
“Chk,” Lae'zel mutters. “You speak as if you think such promises come with endings.”
Shadowheart doesn't answer for a long while. “I have suffered many broken ones,” she finally says softly. “But not from you.”
Lae'zel's eyes brighten, and she kisses Shadowheart again, this time cupping a palm to her cheek. Like all of their kisses, it is fierce and rough, commanding, unrelenting, but it carries certainty in it that Shadowheart desperately needs. “Nor shall you,” she murmurs. “Zhak vo'n'ash duj.”
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qsphyxias · 9 months ago
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Nightwing x Male! Reader (hurt/comfort)
if you fetishize mlm/nblm relationships, get the fuck out of here!
synopsis ; you just broke up with ur bf bc he cheated on u and Nightwing comes to make u feel better.
warnings ; swearing, break ups, venting (not traumatic or too deep) about relationship, manhandle joke, angst? its topic is sad but I think I made it too nice and fluffy
note ; i wanna add more, esp. with pillow talk or whatever but I'm too tired and maybe ill just make another part or smth or edit it
words ; 1.3k+
Your face burned, and your lips trembled against the hand you held up against your moth. You sighed shakily, dropping your head atop your arm leaned up against the railing of your balcony. That was the end of another relationship.
You looked at the wet cement down below, over the thin, black iron railing, your eyes couldn't focus on anything because of the fat tears that obstructed most of your vision. Gravity pulled your tears to the ground, almost pulling you entirely over the rails — you just felt so tired.
The day you've had was just about enough for you to bear. You found out your boyfriend of three years was cheating on you for two of those three years. But the worst part was that you hadn't even found out yourself; he had told you, and he had been the one to break up with you. As if, you were the problem.
You were in the way.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You murmured under your breath, rage began to well up, and you could feel it in your throat — strangling you, taking your breath and turning it into steam. "I wasted three years on him. Three fucking years of my life!" You backed away from the ledge, looking up at the sky as if it represented the entire world before you. "And for what?"
Despite it all, a part of you wanted him back. Not because you loved him, but because, where else will you find someone? You knew everything about him, and you... well, you hoped he knew just about everything to know about you. But now, all that information is useless. You were scared and alone; how much time did you really have? It's not like some handsome, piece of ass is going to come around and save you.
You slid down on the cold surface of the balcony, sitting down and tucking your knees in as you watched your fingers fidget in front of you. You stopped crying, but now it felt worse than before. Your heart had no means to release all that raw emotion because your body couldn't take the exhaustion.
"Hey, are... you alright?" A gentle hand grabs your shoulder, and your head shoots up to see dark blue eyes, staring at you with nothing but hopeful concern. His hope to somehow make you feel better, and his concern that you are currently sitting on the ground, eyes, nose, and mouth red and swollen.
You don't push away, not at all — in fact, that's the last thing on your mind. Even when it hits you that Nightwing is leaning over you, a knee on the ground and his arm on your shoulder. You're too drained to react properly, you just stare at him.
You pressed your hand on your cheek, murmuring your speech. "Give me a fucking break." Had he arrived at a time — literally any other time — less inconvenient, you probably would have asked him for an autograph and fawned over his arms. He chuckled at your reply, not at all offended by your display of disdain at his appearance. He took a seat next to you on the cold hard ground.
For a couple of minutes, you both just sat there, and you stared off into space as you silently fought with your inner demons to not lash out at him. With an apologetic sigh, withdrawing your attitude from before. "I'm sorry, it's been a rough night- I just found out my boyfriend was cheating on me for two years." Nightwing glanced over as you mentioned a boyfriend, so you weren't straight, huh? That totally won't affect how he sees you.
The man beside you sucked in a sharp breath as you mentioned your situation, immediately feeling terrible as he put himself in your shoes. "Don't worry about it; you deserve a little lashing out." You scoffed affectionately as you wiped your remaining tears away with your sleeve, he was friendly, wasn't he?
"That's nice of you to say." Suddenly, the floor looked much more interesting than looking at the attractive man beside you. He noticed the averted gaze and brought you back to reality by placing his hand on yours. "I'm serious, lash out at me! Whatever you wanna say to him, say to me." He was serious, grinning at his great idea.
"I mean I heard you wailing from miles away; I'm sure you don't have a shortage of things to say." He looked proud of himself. "Dear god — you heard that?" You stood up and backed away from him, with him following you closely. "I think half of Gotham heard that." He teased, watching your ashamed expression with a smile.
"You're kind of an asshole, aren't you?" You said, standing your ground as you taunted him right back. His smile only grew, "I have mixed reviews."
"Alright, Nightwing. I'll take you up on your offer." You crossed your arms and stepped closer to him, "I'll vent."
He rubbed his hands together in response, beckoning you towards him. "Give it to me."
Your face turned beet-red at the sudden conspicuous innuendo, and you paused. Hoping he hadn't noticed, you got back in the zone and tried to imagine your ex's face in place of Nightwing's. "Okay, alright. Well. You're... You're a dick."
Dick laughed, for more reasons than one. "That's it? Have at me! Don't be shy." You frowned, "Fine then, you're not just a dick. You're also cruel." You looked into his eyes, seeing your ex's face before you instead of Nightwing's.
To fuel the fire, you channeled all those feelings into your speech. "You broke my heart for no reason when you could have left me when you met him. And- Instead, you wasted my time, thinking I was in this... This loving relationship with a man I was going to marry — " Before you could keep rambling on, you felt strong arms around you, grounding you. You hadn't noticed you were trembling from the emotion until you felt the calm, still body against yours.
You also hadn't noticed how much you absolutely needed that hug.
Hesitating, your arms hovered over his back before you tenderly hugged him back, sinking into his body knowing he could still hold you from his already tight grip. You wondered if you'd ever be hugged like this again now that you didn't have a boyfriend. Whenever your ex did decide to hold you like this, it wasn't often.
Sleep took over your body as his warmth may have reminded you too much of your sheets, and the comfort of your bed. Maybe he reminded you of home.
"... Was that too much?" You murmured against the chestpiece of his suit. He shook his head, not wanting to see your expression just yet. Your frown and your trembling lips broke his heart.
"I think I'm tired." Dick took that to heart and picked you up with ease, walking over to your balcony door and stepping in. "Oh- so you're just gonna manhandle me then?" You declared eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. For a second, he was worried he had crossed a boundary. "Well, I'm okay with that." Now he wasn't so worried.
Dick chuckled as he placed you down on your bed, turning off the light beside you and moving to exit your apartment. He stopped in his tracks as he heard you groan. "Wait, come back..! Stay with me. Please?" He turned around to see you pouting on your bed, knowing you were trying your absolute best to extract pity out of him to make him stay.
"It'll be my first night in three years without a warm body sleeping next to me; you're really gonna leave a guy hanging?" He rolled his eyes as you played the break-up card, waltzing over with a defeated look on his face. You on the other hand, had adorned an expression of joy.
"You regret stopping by my balcony, don't you?"
"... Far from it, actually."
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ardentpoop · 1 month ago
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top 10 sam relationships ranked and why
for simplicity’s sake I will try to exclude threesomes/foursomes, platonic or otherwise. but note that every dynamic on the show that I have a dedicated pretentious tag for (all of which involve sam) is one that I like to play with in my head.
samndean. what can I say besides failmarriage of all time. one of the most interesting relationships ever portrayed on tv if you’re watching closely, and too many ppl try to cram it into a box and imo they’re all missing the forest for the trees (to be clear this does Not apply to most people who correctly recognize it as an abusive relationship; imo you can’t truly understand either of them or their dynamic if you are unable to reckon with this)
sam & jack. mother and son biologically linked to the same predator (lucifer) and orbiting the same violent head of household (dean)……both of them scapegoated for their Inherent Impurity and shuffled from cage to cage…..bursting at the seams with anger and grief over how powerless they feel to contain the powers that broadcast to the Men In Charge their slow but steady “corruption”…..sam couldn’t prevent jack from experiencing the exact same life-changing trauma that sam experienced at dean’s hands….what’s better than this 💕
sam & cas. shockingly underrated to this day. they’re patient and doctor (sexual) they’re worshiper and heretic (alternating. also sexual.) they’re dean’s brotherwife (sam) and dean’s cuck friend (cas) who’s in unrequited love with him and regularly getting his wife off in strange and unethical ways. they’re parents to jack and dean is the beloved angry man in their house who calls the shots bc they’re too sloppy and broken to make their own decisions. the lucifer&sam&cas link paralleled with the lucifer&sam&jack link. the devil’s rejects. sam can watch cas torture some guy with a look of admiration on his face and then they’re retiring to sam’s room in the bunker to watch shitty tv together in comfortable silence. cas experimenting with sam’s body is so commonplace that he can offer to do Anything to him and sam okays it without hesitation. I love thinking abt how their relationship developed over the seasons esp given where it started. delightful to me :)
sam & john bc they let me explore my many serious issues with my own father without burning myself too badly <3
sam & mary because much like sam and jack they were doomed from the start in the same way and watching them get hollowed out makes me want to scream (complimentary) plus the audience doesn’t appreciate either of them properly they are both Riddled with interesting bruises in the same places.
sam & meg bc BUABS gender fuckery forever (they’re both trans. to be clear)
sam & ruby bc ruby is dean-mirror and she is mother and she is fattening up her little lamb for the slaughter and she is teaching dumbo how to fly and she is saying “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I had no idea that dean would do that to you” and she is Poison, dean says, after locking sam up, and she is tenderly stroking the tears off sam’s face and smiling after she permanently shatters his faith in her.
sam & crowley. they are never ever fucking in a million years and that’s the best part. sam’s condescending “am I supposed to be impressed by that?” made my brain short-circuit. she isn’t this mean to Anyone else it’s beautiful.
sam & rowena. I can’t write the essay abt them that I want to write. they’re hot. I love how much crowley would’ve Despised seeing them getting along.
sam & gadreel for the fic potential alone. they are my little cutesies </3
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m4sonn · 7 months ago
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The Gang During Quarantine (the outsiders)
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What the gang would’ve been doing during quarantine
(Thanks to my friend @peachyponyboyy whom I collaborated with with for this and the projects like it)
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺ ᴳ : Ponyboy
• scared as hell of getting the vid.
• refuses to go outside.
• hoards hugeee stacks of books, he stole darrys old dvd’s from when he was a kid.
• reads every single book he can get his sticky little hands on.
• shut in his room most of the time bc “everyone else is a ‘distraction’ to his peace…”
• Went through the E-Boy 2021 phase.. Got a nose ring out of spite, Darry got piiiiissed but oh well, it kinda suited him.
• bought a bunch of strawberry cow shit and now hides them in his closet out of shame, he’s still relentlessly teased by everyone but especially Sodapop
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Sodapop
• tbh? He doesn’t really do much
• Just invites steve over and they get on everyone’s ass
• Sometimes when he’s really bored he’ll try on the clothes he doesn't wear much that sit in the abyss he calls his closet and pose in front of his mirror (Did I serve or did I serve?)
• Totally learned tiktok dances (still knows the renegade, even after 4 years..)
• Became one of the POV tiktokers like skyyjade but stopped in early 2023
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Darry
• cooks sooo much more than usual
• he’ll literally take out cookbooks from like 3 generations back.
• Does the “aesthetic” workouts if he’s bored
• grocery shopping a lot because he’s the only one who responsibly does it, he likes when Ponyboy goes with him but he barely does since Ponyboy is terrified of getting sick now.
• Got a pair of airpods during quarantine and loves listening to music through them, they're glued to darry now.
• He is a god at baking.
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dally
• Ngl he didn't change at all
• sneaks out a lot though.
• darry knows but does not have any shits left to give.
• hates cops even more than he did before
• Would definitely go to the protests with a gun locked and loaded.
• Surprisingly he keeps a tidy space.
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Johnny
• watches a lot of tv
• and listens to music a lot
• scared as hell of getting the ‘vid
• Locks himself in his room
• Probably had a slight depressive episode, i feel like his brain needs to stay stimulated or else he just crumbles.
• Had a gacha phase during quarantine and had a semi-famous YouTube channel (also gacha), he never EVER told ANYONE. Not even ponyboy
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Two-bit
• very ecstatic because he can actually just watch mickey mouse clubhouse the whole day
• sneaks out sometimes to get beer and cancer sticks.
• if mickey isn’t on he’ll watch lilo and stitch
• eats like a goddamn pig, but everyone does so who tf cares
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Steve
• He tries to be helpful because he knows darry isn’t just gonna keep baking all the sweets he makes.
• so he tries to learn how to bake
• Bad idea (almost burned everyone alive)
• apart from that he just fucks around with soda
• That's when they found resident evil…and all the leon kennedy edits…they have gotten into arguments over this man.
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cupajoscafe · 2 years ago
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Night In | Shikamaru Nara x OC
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YOOOOOOOO WHATS GOOD HOMIES I HOPE YALL ARE HAVIN A GREAT DAY!!!! i finally finished the art so that means i CAN POST THIS FIC HEHEHEH this was a lot of fun to write, it was another self indulgent piece of smut from my oc's story!! i really dont know if i have much else to say about this tbh 🧍‍♀️ i guess other than if you dont like ocs or fics about ocs then just go somewhere else bc thats all i post here HAHAHAH ANYWAYS ill be posting the full art on my twitter account and then be linking to it when it's up! i hope yall like this i really worked hard on it 💜
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Pairings: Shikamaru Nara x OC
Word Count: 9.5k
Genre: Smut
Warnings: None
Contents: 18+ MINORS DNI. Pre-established relationship, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, toy use, anal, spanking, breeding kink, overstimulation, squirting, sir kink, use of "daddy", unprotected sex, creampie with the intent of impregnation. Entirely self indulgent. No editing, we die like women. If I missed any, please let me know!
Summary: While having a nice night to themselves, Shikamaru's wife tells him that their son wants a little sibling.
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Being a parent to a toddler was hard work. The diaper changing, the clean up after playtime, the meal making, not to mention the fatigue from constant sleepless nights. Shikamaru was lucky in that regard; he spent most of his time at work as Kakashi's right hand helping him run the village. He did his best to help out when he could, of course, but since his job was so demanding, it meant that Yuuna was at home most of the time looking after their son. It was exhausting.
But none of that was even the worst part. The hardest thing was the fact that their time together was so limited. Because Shikamaru was always at work, he often didn't come home until late, and rarely had any time off. And when he did get home, Shikaro would fuss and the couple would have to find a way to calm down their son. By the time he was feeling better and had fallen back to sleep, they would be too exhausted to spend time together and would go right to bed. So when Yuuna's brother offered to babysit for the night, she couldn't have been more excited.
"You're serious? You'll look after him tonight?" She grinned, holding her son in her arms. Shikaro reached a hand out to his uncle and touched his face, running his little hand across the burn scar over Tetsuya's left eye.
"Yeah, totally!" He confirmed with a chuckle as his nephew curiously explored the damaged skin on his face. "I know you could have pawned him off on Shikamaru's mom, but it's been a while since I've had some quality time with my little buddy."
Shikaro reached out to grab Tetsuya. The man took his nephew from his sister and held him up, planting a smooch on the toddler's cheek. The toddler cooed happily, wrapping his arms around his uncle's neck. Yuuna let out a giggle watching her brother dote on her son and sighed.
"Thank you, Tetsuya. You have no idea how much this means." She gave her brother a sincere smile, extending a hand out to touch him gently on the arm.
"Hey, it's no problem. I figured that since I'm cleared of missions until the weekend, I could lend a helping hand." He looked at Shikaro and hoisted him up a little, shifting his weight. "You and Shikamaru both work so hard and could use a break, so it's the least I can do as your brother."
She smiled at him again and looked over at her son. "Whaddya say, buddy? Do you wanna hang out with uncle Tetsuya tonight?"
"Yah yah!!" He clapped, looking down at his uncle. "Unco Tetsu, Unco Tetsu!!"
"I'll take that as a yes, huh?" Tetsuya laughed, planting another kiss on the toddler's cheek.
"C'mon buddy, let's go see daddy at work and then we'll get ready, okay?" Yuuna said as she grabbed Shikaro from her brother's arms.
"Yah yah!! Gonna see daddy!" He exclaimed excitedly.
"I'll stop by around three and drop him off. That work for you?" She suggested, turning back to her brother.
"Yeah, sounds perfect." Tetsuya smiled. He grabbed Shikaro's hand and squeezed it gently. "I'll see you soon, little man!"
The siblings turned and walked away from one another with a wave, and Shikaro called out after him.
"Baibai Unco Tetsu!!" He exclaimed with a smile, waving happily after him. He looked up at his mother and she met his eyes. "I get to play wif Unco Tetsu today mama!!"
"You sure do, buddy!" She giggled, nuzzling her nose against his. "Are you excited?"
Shikaro nodded and turned back to watch his uncle walking away. "Mama, I wanna brover to play wif me and Unco Tetsu!" He turned back to look at his mom, who stopped walking for a minute to look at him. "Can I have a brover? Pweeeeeease?"
Yuuna had to stop herself from bursting into laughter before she continued on their commute. "Maybe. I'll have to see what daddy says. No promises."
The walk to the Hokage's office didn't take long. As Yuuna walked down the hall, two members of Team Guy were leaving the office. Shikaro noticed the familiar faces and demanded to say hi to his auntie and uncle. Neji had to practically pry Tenten away from the toddler so they wouldn't be late for their mission. Once the duo was gone, Yuuna walked up to the office door and knocked lightly, waiting for the invitation into the room.
"Come on in," Kakashi called out from behind the wood. Yuuna opened the door and smiled brightly as she locked eyes with her husband.
"Hey, what are you two doing here?" Shikamaru chuckled, walking over to his family. He turned to Kakashi, "Sorry, do you mind if I excuse myself for a sec?"
"Of course, take your time." Kakashi grinned. 
The Nara turned back to his wife and son and placed his hand on her back as he gently escorted them out of the office and guided them a little ways down the hall. Shikaro reached out for his father who happily held him in his arms.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you two," He started, looking from Shikaro to Yuuna. "But what are you doing here? You don't usually come by the office."
"Well, I have some good news!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "My brother wanted to look after Shikaro tonight, to give us a break! Which means if you're not here too late, we can finally have an evening to ourselves!"
"I'm gonna play wif Unco Tetsu today!" Shikaro reiterated, enthusiastically throwing his hands up into the air.
"Oh, is that so?" Shikamaru grinned looking at his son. The boy nodded his head. "Well, that sure sounds like it's gonna be a whole lot of fun, huh?"
"Yah yah!! Gonna hab a play day!" Shikaro clapped his hands together. Shikamaru looked at his wife and raised an eyebrow.
"You know my mother's gonna have a fit when she finds out that he's staying with Tetsuya and not her, right?" He chuckled. 
"Yoshino's had plenty of time with him!" Yuuna countered. "Not that I'm not grateful for the help she's given us, but she always jumps at the opportunity. So when Tetsuya offered, of course I said yes. I figured it would be nice for him to have some uncle-nephew time with him, y'know?"
He hoisted Shikaro up a little and softened his expression slightly. "Just don't tell my mother that. She's gonna be on my butt for not being able to dote on her grandson."
Yuuna giggled and took a step closer to him, placing her arms on his. "Don't worry, she'll never know." She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips. "So, think you can finish early tonight? Thought we could cook dinner together and then maybe watch a movie or something."
He looked over his shoulder at the office door, then back to his wife. "It's been pretty slow today, I think I can swing that."
She bounced on her toes excitedly and clapped her hands. "Awesome!! I'm dropping Shikaro off at Tetsuya's in about an hour and a half. I can start dinner when I get back."
They began to head back towards the office. Shikamaru looked down at Yuuna as they walked and smiled. "I can probably be home around four, if that works." 
She nodded as she curled her fingers around the doorknob. "That's perfect." She opened the door and the couple walked back into the office. Shikaro's eyes lit up when he saw Kakashi and he cooed happily. She took him from her husband and held him closely.
"Everything alright?" The Hokage asked casually. The couple nodded.
"We're finally getting a break tonight and I wanted to plan dinner, that's all." She giggled. 
Kakashi hummed and leaned back in his chair. "That's good to hear. You deserve it with how hard the two of you work."
"It's been kinda dead today, think I can call it early?" Shikamaru asked, turning to look from his wife to Kakashi. The Hokage looked down at the stack of paperwork on his desk and swiveled in his chair a little.
"I think once we get through this stack, I can handle the rest for the day." His eyes crinkled as he smiled under his mask. Shikamaru gave a subtle smirk as he turned to look at his wife and son.
"There you go, you heard it yourself." He spoke, placing his hands in his pockets as he shifted his weight. "Gimme a few hours and I'll be home, sound good?"
Yuuna beamed up at her husband and nodded. "That sounds perfect." She turned back towards Kakashi and gave a small bow. "Sorry for showing up unexpectedly, thanks for letting me talk to him."
Kakashi chuckled and waved a hand dismissively in front of his face. "No, no, it's no problem. You're welcome to stop by whenever you like, you know." He took note of the toddler staring and cooing at him, then waved at him. "And Shikaro is welcome to visit his father any time he likes, too." 
Yuuna hoisted the child up a little and chuckled. "Shikaro, say hi to Lord Hokage!" She requested, waving her hand at Kakashi to demonstrate. He looked at his mother and then at Kakashi and smiled, waving back at him like she was.
"Hi Lord Hokage!" He chimed, waving excitedly. The adults smiled at him and all chuckled in unison.
"Alright, well, we'll let you guys get back to work." Yuuna sighed with a grin, turning to face her husband. She reached up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss onto his lips. "I'll see you when you get home, baby."
Shikamaru placed a hand on her arm as she kissed him, stroking it gently when she pulled away. "Sounds good." He looked down at his son and cupped his hand around the back of his head gently and leaned down to plant a loving kiss on his forehead. "Be good for mommy and Uncle Tetsuya, okay?"
Shikaro clapped and nodded. "Okay, I pwomise!!"
They shared their goodbyes and went back to work and Yuuna headed back home to the Nara residence. Once home, she let Shikaro run around the house to collect his favourite toys and pajamas while she packed his essentials. He came running back with two armfuls of different toys and stuffed animals he wanted to bring, but they managed to narrow it down to three items after some fussing. She let him hold onto one and packed away the other two. Once his bag was packed and ready to go, she threw together some quick snacks for him to eat before she brought him over to her brother. Whatever he didn't eat she packed away into a lunch box and included it with his overnight bag.
The time to leave came quickly, and Shikaro couldn't have been more excited. He made the decision to walk instead of having his mother carry him. Yuuna walked close beside her son and watched as he waddled along, holding his hand and guiding him in the proper direction. When they reached Tetsuya's apartment Shikaro ran inside with an excited screech. The siblings laughed and Yuuna handed off Shikaro's overnight bag to Tetsuya. She called her son over to say goodbye, picking him up and planting a motherly kiss on the child's lips. She hugged her son tightly and set him down and he ran back off into his uncle's house. She then pulled Tetsuya into a hug as well. They exchanged goodbyes and then went their separate ways.
On the way home, she decided to stop by the market and pick up some ingredients for dinner. Once they were purchased she headed home and began to sift through her fridge and cupboards to find everything that they'd need to make their meal. It wasn't long into the preparations when she heard the front door open.
"Hey, I'm home." Shikamaru called out from the hallway. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his flak jacket, setting it down on the couch as he passed by the living room. He wandered into the kitchen and stood behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to press a kiss to the side of her head. "I haven't heard the house this quiet in years."
"I know, and we have all night to enjoy it!" Yuuna giggled as she started peeling a potato. She turned her head slightly to look at him and smiled. "Now come help, I wanna cook together!"
He sighed and kissed her head again, releasing her from his grip. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a large kitchen knife and began to chop the carrots that Yuuna had already peeled. They stood at the kitchen counter together, enjoying one another's company as they prepped their dinner. Once everything had been cooked, Yuuna poured them some drinks and they sat down at the dinner table to eat. They took the time to catch up with everything that they'd missed from the other. Having a toddler and different schedules made it difficult sometimes to hold casual conversations, so they hadn't had a chance in quite some time to be able to sit down to talk the way they were doing now. They kept their conversation going all throughout dinner, and when they were finished eating they helped one another clean up. When the last dish was washed, they brought their drinks over to the sofa where they sat cuddled up next to one another. Yuuna looked up at her husband and smiled over her wine glass.
"Cheers to having the house to ourselves for a change." She chuckled, holding her glass up in front of her. Shikamaru eyed her wine glass with a grin and chuckled, clinking his glass against hers.
"I'll drink to that." He smirked, taking a sip of his beer. 
He draped his arm around the back of the couch, letting his fingers trace circles on her shoulder. She rested her hand on his thigh, running it up and down his leg as she took another sip of wine.
"I love you, baby." She hummed, looking into his eyes. He planted his hand down on her shoulder and pulled her in close to him, pressing his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. He pulled away after a minute and looked into her emerald gaze.
"I love you too, noodle." He grinned, closing the gap between them again. She hummed contently against his lips, then pulled away to take another sip of her drink. 
They sat there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, tensions slowly building as the alcohol in their systems gradually began to take effect. He continued to rub her shoulder, slipping his hand underneath her sweater to drag his fingernails along her bare skin. Her hand began to move higher and higher up his leg every time she stroked back up his thigh. She shifted a little, moving closer to him with a goofy smile on her face.
"So Shikaro was asking about wanting a brother today." She mentioned, heat rising to her face. Shikamaru took another sip of his beer and placed the empty glass down on the coffee table in front of them.
"Oh he did, did he?" He spoke quietly, inching his face closer to hers and resting his now free hand on her knee. Yuuna finished off her wine, placing her empty glass down to accompany his on the table.
"Mhmm," she nodded, looking between his mocha eyes with a smile, "He was saying he wished he had a brother to take on his play dates and asked me if he could have one."
"And what did you tell him?" He began to rub his hand from her knee up her thigh. She bit her lip lightly as she felt her heart pounding.
"I told him I'd have to ask daddy." She reached her free hand up to cup his face, rubbing her thumb along his cheek as she looked at his lips.
"Well, whaddya think? Should we give him a sibling?" He pulled her closer to him, their lips barely touching, "'Cause daddy wouldn't mind fucking another baby into you."
She let out a shaky breath, her eyelids fluttering at the words that dripped off his tongue like honey. A tightness arose in the pit of her stomach and she surged forward, pressing her lips hard enough against his to make him lean back. She glided her hand up his thigh and over his crotch, rubbing his stiffening erection with a smile. He let out a low groan at the stimulation, in turn sliding his hand down from her shoulder to her breast. He massaged her flesh between his fingers, pulling it out from her bra for easier access. She parted her lips and dragged her tongue across his mouth, pushing it past lips to meet his. He leaned forward and pushed her down onto her back, rolling her sweater up to her collarbone and unclasping her bra. He began to knead her tits between his fingers as his tongue lashed against hers, slating a knee between her legs as she ground down against it.
"So desperate, I guess you do want daddy to fuck a baby into you, huh?" He growled hungrily, tugging at her lip with his teeth as he flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She let out a quiet moan, breathing heavily as she rutted her hips upwards against his knee. He kissed her again, their tongues meeting in a heated dance for a moment before he pulled away. "No need to be quiet this time, there's nobody else here. I wanna hear just how good I make you feel."
Shikamaru shifted his head down just enough to be able to take one of her nipples into his mouth, flicking at the bud with his tongue. She let out another quiet moan into the air. Unimpressed, he bit down on her nipple harshly, eliciting a loud yelp from his wife.
"Ow, what the fuck was that?" Yuuna scolded, brows furrowed and face flushed. He licked at the nub again, sucking on it gently.
"I said you don't have to be quiet." He pulled away from her chest with a loud pop and looked into her eyes with a mischievous smile. "I wanna hear every noise that comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours, and I want to hear it loud. Gotta hear how good I make you feel."
Before she could respond he immediately took her nipple into his mouth again, flicking his tongue against it quickly as he pinched the other between his fingers. She moaned again, louder this time. He smiled against her skin as he kneaded her breast in his hand, a hungry growl resonating in the back of his throat.
"That's my girl," He huffed as he continued to lap at her sensitive nipple. She rolled her hips forward against his knee again and brought one hand up to the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair and loosening it from his hair tie. She breathed out another sultry moan and could feel his lips turning up into a smile against her skin. "Fuck, you're so needy, aren't you?"
"Gimme a break, it's been a minute since the last time we fucked." She joked with a pant, reaching her hand down into his trousers to curl her fingers around his girth. He let out a loud groan and bit down lightly on her nipple as he rutted his hips into her hand. She smirked down at him and bit her lip. "Looks like you're just as needy for me, huh?"
He pulled away from her with a pop, her breast bouncing as it settled against her chest again. Shikamaru frowned down at her and sucked the air through his teeth, his face flushing red as her grin grew wider.
"What's the matter?" She cooed, giving his cock a few steady pumps and running her thumb over his slit. He huffed out another low groan, his eyes shutting as his hips involuntarily bucked forward into her handq9. "You're not getting flustered, are you?"
He opened his eyes and grimaced, furrowing his brows as he swiftly shifted his thigh from between her legs and replaced it with his fingers, slipping them under her leggings and gliding them over her soaking panties. She opened her mouth to gasp but he shoved his tongue into her mouth to stifle the noise before she could. "Would you just shut up and let me take care of you?" He growled as he pulled away for breath, the small string of saliva that connected their tongues dissipating. "Quit being such a pain and let me take the reins, would you?"
Yuuna's eyelids closed half way as she looked up at her husband. Normally she would be a bit more stubborn and protest, but tonight was different. It was the first time in months that they'd been able to be together like this without having to worry about being too loud or too discreet. So she decided to bite her tongue, just this once. She smiled up at him and spread her knees apart, allowing him to move his hand freely. He scoffed in response, moving in to kiss her again as he slipped his hand under her panties to touch her bare skin. She moaned loudly into his mouth, removing her hand from inside his pants and wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in closer. 
"That's more like it." He slid his fingers through her folds, slicking them with her arousal before dipping his middle finger into her sex. He began to leisurely move his digit in and out of her hole, closing the gap between their faces again with a slow, passionate kiss. "Such a good girl, so wet for me." He chuckled as he pulled away for air, adding a second finger to stretch her out a little more. She bit her lip and moaned with a smile, looking up at him as she ground her hips against his hand.
"'Cause you make me feel so good," She whispered, running her hands along his arms. He smirked down at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah?" He inquired, tilting his head to the side a bit with a grin. He continued to move his hand at a slow and steady pace, his eyes fixated on her emerald gaze. "Why don't you tell me just how good I make you feel, huh?" He began to move his wrist quicker, feeling her walls clench around his fingers. She panted and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, grinding down hard against his hand.
"So good," She whimpered, her brows turning upward in a longing expression. "Fuck, feels so good, love it when you play with my pussy baby."
He felt his cock twitch under his pants as she spoke so boldly, slowing his wrist movement again and diving down to take one of her nipples between his lips once more. He lashed at it with his tongue, and when he was done he dragged his mouth across her chest to the other one to do the same. She moaned loudly again, in turn causing Shikamaru to groan against her flesh. He trailed his tongue up her chest to her collarbone, then to her neck, then to the shell of her ear. He suckled on her earlobe as he continued to thrust his fingers into her.
"Daddy's gonna fuck you so good tonight." He growled into her ear, tracing his tongue along her earlobe before shifting to look down at her with a devilish grin. The look alone was enough to make her cunt throb. He felt her clench around his fingers and he slid them out of her hole to circle her clit. "Sounds like you're into that, aren't you?"
She nodded her head and ground her hips against his digits, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. As soon as their lips met, they let their tongues explore the other's mouth, swirling around in a heated dance. Shikamaru slipped both hands into the elastic waistband of Yuuna's leggings and underwear, and slid them down past her ankles and off of her legs. He began to shift backwards on the couch, kissing down her neck as he went. His lips traveled to her collarbone, then across the expanse of her chest, then down to her stomach, and then stopped as he hovered his lips above her aching clit. He massaged her inner thighs, squeezing them and running his hands up and down, pulling apart her folds to get a good look at her dripping, trembling hole. He shifted forward slightly to kiss her clit, and again, and again, spreading her pussy open. She whimpered at the sensation, bucking her hips forward. He looked up at her as he held her lips open, kissing her nerves again.
"What's the matter?" He grumbled with a sly grin on his face, his lips just barely touching her flesh as he spoke.
She grabbed onto the back of his head and tried to pull him forward but he didn't budge. She tried to grind her hips forward but he pulled back every time, denying her the relief she wanted. "C-C'mon, please, I need it," She whined, brows turning up to look at her husband desperately.
"Need what?" He chuckled as he continued to pull apart her folds, teasing her further. "You know I can't give you what you want unless you tell me what it is."
Her face burned hot. He did this every time, and he knew it was a surefire way to get her flustered and submissive. She bit down on her lip and gripped down onto his head. "L-Lick my p-pussy," She whispered, averting his gaze. He squinted at her and called out to her to bring her attention back to him.
"If you're gonna tell me what you want, you better look me in the eyes when you tell me," He growled between her legs, "Otherwise I'm not doing a goddamn thing."
She could feel her cunt trembling again as he scolded her. She swallowed and looked him in the eyes, face hot and flushed, "I–...I want you to l-lick my pussy, please," She pleaded quietly. Her clit throbbed as he spread her cunt open again, swallowing as she saw him smile.
"I don't quite think I heard you." He growled, breath hot on her skin, his lips once again barely touching her sensitive bud. She gripped down tightly onto his head, grasping at his hair, watching him with needy eyes.
"I want you to lick my pussy," She spoke loudly, her body trembling as she felt the build up of pressure in her gut, desperate for release. "Please, I w-want you to lick my pussy and make me cum…!!"
Without another word, Shikamaru dove forward and began lashing his tongue against her clit and she immediately let out a lewd moan that echoed through their empty home. She ground down against his tongue as it lapped at her clit, pulling one of her hands up to her breast to massage the flesh between her fingers. He let out a soft groan at the taste of her on his tongue, wrapping his arms around her thighs and holding her against his mouth as he continued to devour her sex like he'd never get another chance. He dug his fingernails into her thighs and nodded his head along as he licked from her entrance to her clit and then back, dipping his tongue into her entrance and fucking her with his mouth. 
She moaned out loud again, flicking her thumb over her nipple as her other hand buried itself in Shikamaru's hair, watching as he ate her pussy like a starved animal. He groaned again at the taste of her on his tongue, pulling out of her clenching walls and whipping his tongue against her puffy clit. Her breathing became laboured as the telltale signs of her approaching orgasm were drawing closer. He shifted one hand from her thigh, inserting two fingers into her hole as he began to thrust. She bucked her hips forward, grinding against his face as her moans got louder and louder, doing nothing but spurring him on more. He grinned as she squirmed around, using his free hand to press down hard against her womb, keeping her in place.
"C'mon, baby, cum for Daddy," He grunted, watching her blissful expression as he pleasured her. He could feel her walls tightening around his fingers and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smug smile as he listened to her falling apart on his tongue. "Atta girl, cum for me, yeah?"
With his instruction, Yuuna's back arched up off of the couch as she rode his tongue and fingers, her eyes rolling back into her skull with a lewd moan as she climaxed. Her body shook and squirmed as she rolled her hips against his face, riding out her orgasm, panting to catch her breath. He continued to suckle on her aching clit as she came around his fingers, lips pulled into a triumphant smile as he watched her expression of pure ecstacy. As she came down from her high she bucked her hips and writhed around, her entire body sensitive from her orgasm. He pulled his fingers out from her soaking cunt and sat up, crawling overtop of her with a huff. He  leaned in close and shoved his tongue past her lips, cupping the back of her head with one hand as he held her face against his. A lewd moan slipped out of her throat at the taste of her pussy on his tongue and it sent a throb right between her legs. He pulled away to catch his breath and she panted beneath him, eyes glassed over with pleasure.
"You're gonna walk over to the bedroom, get naked, then get on the bed on all fours. Your ass better be up in the air by the time I get in there, understood?" He growled, glaring down at her with a primal hunger in his eyes. She nodded her head a few times and was shifting to get off the couch. Unsatisfied with her response, Shikamaru scoffed and gave her a light slap on the cheek. He grabbed her face between his fingers and squished her face, forcing her to look up at him. "Is that how you address me?"
"Y-Yes sir," She answered again, speech impaired slightly from his hand squeezing her lips together. He smirked and released her face, pulling back from her to allow her to sit up. 
She scooted off the couch and quickly made her way to their bedroom. Shikamaru watched her as she walked down the hallway, making sure to get a good look at her ass as it bounced with every step she took. When she was out of sight he let out a satisfied chuckle. With one arm draped over the back of the sofa, he moved the other down to fist his cock and give it a few steady strokes. When he heard the creaking of their bed, he stood up and walked down the hallway to the threshold of their bedroom. As he had requested of her, Yuuna had removed her clothes and was laying face down on the bed, her legs spread and her ass up in the air. He smirked and strolled over to the bed, removing his trousers, and sunk his knees into the mattress behind her. 
He ran his hands along the expanse of her ass, giving it a squeeze before landing a harsh spank against her skin. She jolted and let out a yelp. He massaged her ass cheek to ease the pain before repeating the process until the skin was burning bright red. He fisted his cock again and gave it a few steady pumps before sliding it through her dripping folds a few times, then pulled his hips back and slapped his shaft against her asshole. He wrapped her ass cheeks around his cock as he began to slowly grind his hips forward. She let out a quiet, needy moan at the sensation, feeling her cunt throb at the thought of his cock inside her.
"F-Fuck, p-please," She whined, wiggling her hips invitingly. "N-Need it, n-need your cock."
He leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, kissing the back of her neck. "What do you need, huh?"
"Fuck me," She replied without hesitation, backing her hips up against him. "Need your cock inside me, n-need you to stretch me out, p-please…!"
He chuckled at her desperation and kissed her neck again, then down her back. He sat up and ran his cock through her folds again, coating it with her arousal before pushing the head of his cock past her entrance. He pushed his hips forward and buried his cock deep into her cunt, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix. She mewled loudly, the position allowing him to hit deep into her pussy. She began to bounce her hips on his cock, her face pressed into the pillows as she panted. He grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed the skin, gripping onto it tightly as he matched her pace. 
The room quickly filled with the sounds of lewd squelching, skin slapping, and lustful moans. Shikamaru tipped his head to the side as he watched his cock disappear into her cunt, fucking hard into her soaking pussy with ease. He let one hand rest at his side and pressed the other flat against the small of her back, holding her down. He huffed with a devilish grin as an idea crossed his mind. He spat down onto her asshole and circled it with the pad of his thumb. Yuuna's body reacted to the sensation and he could feel her walls tightening around his cock. He then slowly inserted his thumb past her rim down to the first knuckle.
"Fuuuuuck–...!!" She moaned, her eyes rolling back as he began to thrust his thumb in and out of her asshole in rhythm with his cock.
"Like that, don't you?" He grunted, sinking his thumb deeper into her hole. She nodded in agreement, moving one of her hands to her clit where she began to rub it with her fingers. He felt her walls clench around his cock again and he pulled his thumb from her ass, spitting down on it again and inserting his middle and ring fingers instead. She groaned hungrily as he scissored his digits inside her hole, bouncing her ass harder against his cock and fingers, flicking quickly at her clit. "Yeah, that's a good girl."
Her eyes crossed and her brows furrowed upwards as she felt her orgasm drawing close. He inserted a third finger into her ass, thrusting hard as his cock throbbed inside her cunt. It was enough to push her over the edge, and she screamed out loud as she came around his cock, rubbing her clit fast as she let her orgasm take over her body. She twitched underneath him, her knees trembling as she continued to slowly trace circles around her clit and back her hips up against him.
"Look at you, falling apart on my cock like a dirty little slut," He groaned, slowing his hips and leaning forward so his chest was pressed against her back. He ground his cock lazily into her hole, kissing her neck and nibbling on her earlobe. "What do you say to me for making you cum, huh?"
"Th-Thank you," she sputtered, her eyes halfway closed and her hips shaking as she felt his fingers moving inside her ass and his cock sliding in and out of her hole. He scoffed and used his free hand to grab onto her face and pull her head up, locking eyes with his wife.
"Thank you what?" He grunted, leisurely rutting his hips against hers. She swallowed and a quiet moan slipped past her lips.
"Th-Thank you, sir," She slurred, eyes fluttering halfway closed and rolling back into her skull getting drunk off his dick.
He grinned and released her face from his grip, pressing his lips to her cheek and licking at her salty skin, "Atta girl." He pulled his head away from hers and sat up, pressing his free hand flat against the side of her head and pushing her into the pillows. He tipped his head to the side and watched his cock disappear inside her, pulling his fingers out from her asshole and instead dug them into her hips. The lustful whine she gave didn't go unnoticed. Shikamaru squinted down at her and sucked the air through his teeth. "What's the matter? You want this hole filled up too?"
He felt her nod under his hand and the wicked grin on his lips only grew wider. Keeping himself buried deep inside her cunt, he stopped moving to reach over to her bedside table. He opened the drawer to find her hidden stash of toys he knew were there. Leaning over, he reached into the drawer to pull out her bottle of lube and her favourite toy; a large, mint green, silicone dildo. He'd come home late a handful of times to see her shoving it quickly back into the drawer to try and hide it, but he knew right away what she was hiding from him. He opened the bottle of lubricant and squeezed some of the water-based liquid onto the tip of the dildo, letting it drip down the rubber shaft. He pressed the head of the toy up against her asshole.
"This what you wanted?" He inquired with a cocked eyebrow and a sly grin as he once more began to move his hips against hers. She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes hazy and full of lust.
"Yes sir," she squeaked, nodding her head and staring at the silicone toy. Her mouth began to water and she licked her lips. He scoffed and furrowed his brow.
"And what exactly is it that you want?" He pressed, rutting his cock into her at a lax pace. He could see Yuuna's face burn bright red and it brought a grin right back to his face.
"C-Cock…in my a-ass…" She mewled, pushing her hips back against her husband and the toy in an attempt to satisfy her need for feeling full. She swallowed thickly and picked herself up, supporting her weight with her hands and fisting the bed sheets beneath her. She turned her head to look at him and meet his eyes with a needy whine. "P-Please, want you to fill me up, f-fuck my ass and my pussy."
He let out a groan and shoved the dildo into her ass all the way to the base and she let out a cry of mixed pleasure and pain. The sudden gesture caused her to lose her balance and she fell forward, burying her face in the pillows once more. He leaned over her, ramming his cock deep into her sex as he thrusted the toy swiftly in and out of her ass.
"Dirty little slut," He growled, pressing his lips against her shoulder and biting at her skin. She let out a slew of moans as the pressure built up in her gut once more. He smirked against her salty skin, moving both his wrist and his hips at a steady pace. He glanced back to watch the green cock slide in and out of her tight ass, grunting as he moved the toy quicker. He continued to ram the fake cock into her hole, matching the pace with his hips as he plowed into her cunt. The intensity of the combined thrusts was enough to send her hurtling towards another orgasm, crying out his name in ecstasy as her vision went white.
Her eyes crossed and her body convulsed as she gripped onto the pillow, tears spilling down her cheeks at the immense pleasure that racked her body. He huffed and slowed his pace to catch his breath.
"That's my good girl," he praised, kissing her shoulder again. He moved his lips to meet hers, licking into her mouth and groaning against her tongue. He pulled away with a pant, saliva dribbling down his chin as his tongue lolled from his mouth for a moment. He pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, "You're gonna get on top of me and fuck yourself on my cock, understood?"
Her eyelids fluttered as he spoke and she compliantly nodded her head. She felt his body moving away from hers and whined when he pulled out of her holes. He sat behind her for a moment and gave her ass a light spank, groping her flesh in his hands and pulling her ass cheeks apart. He watched as her hole twitched and gaped now that it was empty, smirking from above her. 
"So desperate to be full, aren't you sweetheart?" He muttered, landing another smack against her skin. The harsh contact made her yelp and her body shook. He kneaded her flesh between his fingers, slicking the dildo up with her arousal before dipping it back into her ass again only twice. He pulled the toy out of her hole and watched it gape again as she looked over her shoulder at him and whined. 
He flashed another sly smile to her and moved to lay down next to her on his back. She got on top of her husband, straddling his waist and pressing her hands down against his chest. She began to roll her hips against him, rubbing her sensitive clit against his shaft. His hands moved to her waist where his nails dug into her flesh, watching her hips move against his body. He bit at his lip and groaned, throwing his head back into the pillow and bucking his hips up against her. She giggled as she moved, watching his expression from above him.
"Does that feel good, baby?" She purred, circling her hips languidly against Shikamaru's. He looked up into her eyes and furrowed his brow with a scoff, grabbing a fistful of her hair and snapping her head to the side. She shut her eyes and let out a hiss at the stinging on her scalp. Her eyes opened to see his glaring daggers back at her.
"Don't you go thinking that you're in charge just because you're on top," he growled into the air. He tugged her hair again and she whimpered, shutting her eyes once more. "Now do what I told you to do."
One emerald eye met his intense mocha gaze. She nodded her head as much as the grip on her hair would allow her to. "Y-Yes sir." She submitted. His frown turned up into a smirk and he released his grip on her head, shifting his hand to rest on her waist instead. 
He watched as she scooted back a little and took the bottle of lube off the bed. She flipped the cap open and squeezed the cold liquid down onto his aching cock, using her free hand to stroke his length and spread the lube down his shaft. She turned around so her back was facing him and wiggled her hips as she lined the head of his cock up with her ass. With a gasp, she lowered herself down onto his cock, burying him deep inside of her. She panted as she moved her hips up then sunk back down onto him. He snaked his hands up to her waist and sucked the air through his teeth, digging his fingers into her plush skin and watching as his girth disappeared inside her asshole. The tightness made his dick throb and he couldn't stop himself from letting out a pleasured groan.
She leaned forward, pressing her hands into the mattress to keep herself upright as she began to bounce her hips against his cock. She worked herself up into a steady rhythm as she adjusted for the stretch and it wasn't long before she was a mewling mess above him. He matched Yuuna's pace, fucking up into her ass and slapping his hips against hers with labored grunts.
"So fucking tight," he muttered, exhaling sharply through his nose. He watched his cock disappear deep inside her body and he licked his lips. She moved one hand from the mattress to her cunt, spreading her folds apart to caress her aching clit. She circled it with her fingers, dipping her digits inside her entrance and flicking her wrist. Her eyes crossed a little at the sensation, letting a soft whimper roll off her tongue. She glanced down next to her to see her favourite toy laying on the bed. Her pussy throbbed at the thought of having another cock inside her. She pulled her fingers from her hole and picked the dildo up, running it through her folds and coating it with her arousal before pushing it all the way into her sex with ease. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against the mattress and bouncing her hips against the two dicks inside of her. 
Her eyelids fluttered half closed and her eyes crossed, her brow turning up as the pleasure grew inside her gut. She yelped in surprise as he landed another spank against her skin, then massaged the flesh between his fingers. He repeated the action a few times, bucking his hips upwards but for the most part letting her do the work. He landed one more slap against her skin before sitting up just enough to snake his arm around her waist and pull her down so her back was flush with his chest. He dug his heels into the mattress and thrusted up fast into her asshole, his cock twitching as her tightness wrapped around him. She met his pace with the dildo, ramming the toy fast and deep into her pussy. Her breath hitched in her throat as the pleasure began to build up inside of her. He watched over her shoulder as she fucked herself with the toy, biting down against her shoulder and slamming his hips up into hers. She let out another yelp and pressed her head back, staring up wide eyed at the ceiling of their bedroom. He repeated the action again, and again, hitting deep inside her with every roll of his hips. He grunted as he held his hips against her ass, panting to catch his breath and watch as she slid the dildo in and out of her wet hole.
"Fuck," she muttered, eyes slamming shut as she bucked her hips forward, both cocks dragging against her walls. Her breathing became labored as her hand moved faster. The head of the dildo punched her cervix with each thrust inside her and she could feel her legs trembling.
He watched over her shoulder again as she used the toy. "Gonna cum again?" He prodded, moving his hips against her once he had caught his breath. He began to move faster, not quite matching the pace of her hand but thrusting hard and deep inside of her ass. She nodded at his question, eyes glassed over with pleasure as tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. He wrapped his other arm tight around her waist and began to thrust up hard into her, matching the rhythm she had set for herself. 
Her eyes widened and she cried shamelessly out into the air as the coil inside her gut finally snapped, sending her nerves into overdrive. Her holes clenched tightly around the cocks inside her, and a clear liquid gushed out from her cunt as she came. It splashed onto the bed sheets, soaking through to the mattress around their feet. His eyes narrowed hungrily, watching her hips convulse as she squirted.
"My wife is such a messy girl," He purred into her ear, slowing his hips to an easy, steady rhythm. "Cumming so hard she soaked through the sheets. And now the bed is all wet, what a drag."
She laid on top of him, chest heaving for air as her orgasm subsided. He ran his hands up and down her salty skin, kissing her neck from underneath her, gripping onto her tight. He grasped onto her waist and pushed her up and off of his stiff girth, scooting over to the side and laying her down next to him. He skated his hand down to the front of her body where he grabbed onto the suctioned end of the dildo and slowly pulled it from her clenching pussy, tossing it to the side and ghosting his fingers over her sensitive skin. His hand moved up from her pelvis to her stomach, then to her chest where he grabbed a handful of one of her tits to squeeze and massage, before letting it bounce and settle against her chest as his fingers moved up to her neck. He slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her into a fiery kiss, nodding his head along and licking into her mouth. Her tongue glided against his, a slew of moans dripping off of it as his hand moved back down her body again. He slipped it under her thigh and propped her leg up against his forearm, dipping his fingers into her sensitive core. She twitched at the stimulation but didn't push him away, instead bringing her hand up to touch his face and pull him in closer to her. They pulled away from each other to catch their breath, hot air fanning against the other's face as a string of saliva connected their tongues.
"How's about daddy knocks you up now, huh?" he grinned, looking down at her lips. He watched as she took her lower lip between her teeth and nodded just a little, then pressed his lips against hers once more. He let out a moan against her mouth as he moved his fingers inside of her, curling them upwards to rub against her walls. He pulled away and their eyes locked. "I wanna hear you say it."
"Please," she begged with a pant, reaching her hand down and curling her thin fingers around his cock to give it a few steady strokes. Her emerald eyes reflected in the mocha that stared back at her and she swallowed the desire that was in her throat. Her other hand came up to meet his face, brushing her fingertips against his cheek. “Cum inside me, I want you to make me pregnant.” 
His breath hitched in his throat hearing the words come from her mouth and he involuntarily let a groan sound in his throat. Shikamaru surged forward to kiss her again, their tongues meeting with a desperate moan. She used one arm to support her weight on the bed and wrapped the other around the back of his neck, holding him close to her. He pulled his fingers out from her core and grabbed hold of his girth from her, lining the tip up with her entrance. He slowly pushed his hips forward, the head of his cock breaching her tight hole. He gave in to his desire and slammed his hips forward, a hungry growl escaping him as he buried himself deep inside of her. He pressed his forehead against hers as he rutted into her, her walls clenching around him and making him lose his composure. He pinched his brow and closed his eyes as he plunged deep inside of her cunt. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her thigh, holding her leg up to give him room to move. He set a frantic pace, rocking the bed as he dug his heels into the mattress, losing any and all control that he had. Every punch of his hips had his cock hitting her cervix. The pain was enough to make her cry out, but the pleasure she felt far outweighed the ache.
They were both a mess; panting through their noses and moaning against each other's lips, fingers digging into flesh, hips rolling together in sync. Yuuna's skin was on fire, overstimulated from the countless orgasms she'd already had, yet her gut still burned with longing. Her moans increased in volume and she had to pull away from his face to catch her breath as he plowed into her, eyes shutting tight and white knuckle grasping at the bed sheets. He moved his hand down from its spot against her thigh to run his middle and ring fingers in fast circles around her clit, determined to push her towards one final climax before he gave in to his own lust. She began to shake her head as she pulled away from his lips, gasping for air and eyes spilling tears.
"I-I can't, I c-can't…!" She hiccuped, vision blurring as she writhed around underneath him from the assault on her nerves. He pressed his lips to hers again, groaning into her mouth as he flicked his wrist at a pace that almost matched his hips.
"Yes you can," He challenged, his voice husky, a primal look in his eyes. "And you're going to."
Every touch of his body against hers felt like fire under her skin. It was almost too much to bear. He edged her closer and closer to that final burning climax, and when it hit her, she cried out his name and began to tremble as her back arched up off of the bed. She stared up at the ceiling with wide opened eyes as fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks, tongue hanging from her mouth, chest heaving desperately as she tried to catch her breath.
He skated his hand back up to her thigh where he grabbed onto her leg and squeezed it in his arms, slamming his hips hard against hers. He could feel the knot inside him unraveling and he closed his eyes tight, allowing the pleasure to finally take him over. His thrusts grew sloppy as he came inside of her with a guttural moan, rolling his hips against hers as he shot thick spurts of his hot cum deep inside her, fucking it into her womb. 
"So good baby, you did so good," he huffed in exertion. He laid there next to her and allowed himself to ride out his high, giving his hips a few more shallow bucks until finally he came to a halt. He pressed his forehead to hers gently with his eyes closed. "You did so fucking good."
She laid next to him and whimpered as her body twitched, finally releasing the death grip she had on the bed sheets. Her legs trembled and shook as she stretched them out flat, Shikamaru pulling out of her as a result. Giving a little sniffle, she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks and she smiled at him.
"That was…"
"A little too intense?" He chuckled softly, kissing the tip of her nose as he caressed her burning skin. "Guess I got a little carried away. Sorry about that."
"No, it's fine!" She giggled dismissively at him. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting it."
"Had to take advantage of the opportunity to fuck you silly without worrying about Shikaro, it'd be a drag if I had let it go to waste." He teased, wrapping his arms around Yuuna's waist and nuzzling his nose against her neck. She laughed out loud at his words, humming contently and wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.
"Do you think it worked?" She pondered. He scoffed and looked up at her without moving his head.
"With all that effort I put into it, it better have fucking worked." He complained, his voice muffled as he spoke against her skin. She chuckled and hummed, running her fingers through his long dark hair and gently scratching his scalp.
"Well, if it didn't, at least we got to have some much needed time together." She pointed out with a grin. He dragged his fingertips along her back, tracing the scar that resided in the middle of it. "And if it did, then we have another baby. So it's win-win."
He pulled his head away from her body just enough to stare down at her stomach. He shifted one of his hands from her back and smoothed it along her skin until it rested flat against her navel. With a grin, he looked up into her eyes and pressed his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. He pulled away after a quiet moment and a mischievous grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"We should get a babysitter more often."
627 notes · View notes
eddieslooneymoonie · 6 months ago
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Sorry for this but….
Angst Eddie Blurb that’s been rotting my brain
Not beta read bc I’m kool (and have no friends atm)
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It had been a long day at work. And after that you went straight to the high school as a nurse volunteer for those who were injured but not injured enough to be cared for in the limited hospice space.
The agonizing cries of the burned, broken, and grieving.
They say the town was truly was torn apart.
But then I guess they hadn’t had to watch what that truly means.
You doubt anyone else had to watch bats decend and feast on the flesh of their boyfrie-
No.
He was more than that but you couldn’t get into it right now.
It seemed unfair to you that two things in your life had been torn apart, and the only one you hated more out of those two categories was recovering.
The one you loved most was dead.
Revered only by a handful of people who took turns scrubbing “Satanist” and “Freak” off a false resting place.
For all you knew (and tried not to think about) his body had become part of a creature you’d have to kill in the next few weeks.
All you knew for certain was that when Edward Munson had taken his last painful breath in your bloodied arms,
so had you.
So when you finally got home after another lifeless day on instinctual auto pilot, the last thing you wanted to see was a ransacked home.
Not that you cared. Not much of it was his anyways, which was about all you possessed with any fire.
But you were 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙.
You dropped all your belongings and decided that maybe you were wrong about strength lying in moving forwards. All you wanted was to fall.
So you did, slumped against the doorway with nothing but a sore ribcage from crying yourself to sleep every night and a dirty bandana folded nicely in your back pocket.
Bare bones of a love you thought was forever.
Then you heard something that made you question if you really hadn’t survived.
The ragged notes produced only by Eddie’s most prized possession-
and now yours.
Something you had safely tucked under your bed.
You listened hard with your head still settled against the cold tiled floor of your doorway.
There was no way it could be anything else but-
Sweetheart.
You bolted upright in a murderous rage. You couldn’t care less about someone walking in and taking your half burnt belongings but how DARE they help their grimy fingers to the last piece of your soul you had.
You grab the ax you have hanging above the door,
one of 7 weapons hidden in your home.
Then you feel it.
An ice in your veins only in the past unleashed against bar scumbags and then naked looking alien fucks from the Upside Down.
And then…..
And then bats that took half of you and all of him.
It was no question.
Whoever decided to enter your shitty one bedroom apartment probably had no idea it was the last thing they’d ever do.
Another aspect of you life the Upside Down had taken from you.
Your humanity.
Gripping the axe in a way far more comfortable than your own bed was sometimes, you head down the hallway to the soon to be murder victim.
Just when you reach the door the gentle strumming stops.
So do your steps and breath, paused in pursuit like the predator you’d been forced to become.
You take a slight step forward and peek through the doorway crack-
Only for your eyes to meet messy brown curls, scarred abdominal, ripped to hell black jeans, and dirt covered bare feet.
You shove through the door and the figure doesn’t even flinch.
Instead he looks up from plucking the strings of a guitar he can no longer play comfortably now that there is claws where fingers once were.
Under the red eyes, sunken cheekbones and feral smile you still recognize the figure in front of you.
Dirtier than the day you met him but somehow more defined and twice as beautiful.
Hotter than sin and looking fresh out of hell.
“Hey Trouble,” Eddie’s grin widens.
In his next words you see his teeth, all sharp and pretty.
“I’ve missed you.”
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wrinkledparchment · 2 years ago
Text
toeing the line | sebastian sallow
BRIEF DISCLAIMER: THIS AUTHOR DOES NOT SUPPORT OR TOLERATE TRANSPHOBIA OR DISCRIMINATION OF ANY KIND  
Summary: a game of cat and mouse sequel | You may have lost the battle, but you’re determined not to lose the war. Just moments after you’d met him, you already felt close to him, like he was someone you could deeply trust. Even when a troll comes to Hogsmeade, or when Rookwood seeks you out, he always stands by your side, toeing the line between friends and something more. 
Word Count: 3,706 words
Author’s Note: just a very light-hearted dabble into some Sebastian cuteness, warning it is unedited bc I spilled juice on my usual computer. OOps lol  edit 1hr after posting: hi guys I appreciate all the love you’ve shown me so so much throughout all my fics--I will be more active today bc I will not be going to work. I hit someone with my car and now I am emotionally traumatized. Pls enjoy
Content Warnings: fluff, brief fight but nothing too graphic or magically violent :)
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a game of cat and mouse
Sebastian’s heavy hand on your shoulder and warm breath on your ear still burned with his absence, and for every second you spent actually thinking about getting your supplies, or your classes, or precisely anything else, you spent 3 more seconds thinking about Sebastian’s voice, or your duel, or his wit that you felt you would never catch up to. 
You felt--quite constantly, in fact--that you and Sebastian were competing for an unknown prize, continuously attempting to best the other in this war that conspicuously looked to everyone else like shameless flirting. The worst part that he was so talented at this sort of game, always managing to play the one card that caught you off-guard but never crossed the line into being too forward, too obvious that it showed you his hand. 
After browsing only the necessary stores to complete Weasley’s shopping list, you practically booked it to the square near Honeyduke’s and the Wizardwear store, the meeting place Sebastian had designated. It was bustling, many people gathered around tables or sauntering between shops, enjoying the blue skies and the warm sun that warmed the skin of your cheeks. 
A large smile broke out on your face as soon as you spotted Sebastian across the cobblestone square, leaned casually against the large tree with his legs crossed at the ankles. He seemed to be briefly skimming one of the potions textbooks, occupying his time while he waited patiently for you to come back home to him. 
There was something so enchanting about that moment, you being able to watch him from afar. He looked so content, peaceful in his mind that was able to lay dormant briefly, not needing to work overtime to calculate just when to brush his hand against your knuckles or conjure a witty remark to stun you with. He was just naturally stunning, without ever needing to try. 
At this point in the day, just the first day of knowing him, you’d already grown accustomed to the butterflies that awakened every time he was within 50 feet of you. You jogged lightly over to him, and as soon as your footsteps were within hearing distance, he looked up, as if he could sense your presence. When you came to a stop in front of him, he smiled so radiantly that you had forgotten the greeting you’d rehearsed on the way. 
“I’ve finished my rather extensive shopping list,” you landed on instead, almost frowning at how you couldn’t immediately come back from the last interaction swinging. You held your wand up, proud of your immediate connection to what felt like the most stunning wand you’d ever seen. 
He could sense your satisfaction, smiling, “Excellent.” The word just rolled off his tongue so simply, but for some ungodly reason, you felt your heart swell. 
You didn’t bother allowing yourself the time to get flustered at his brief praise, and instead tried to show interest in him, too. “Did you get what you needed for your sister?”
You’d hoped that this would open a new avenue of conversation, but he didn’t open up more than he needed to. “I did,” he nodded. “I suppose the world is our oyster now,” and you held your breath as a smirk crawled up his face, “let’s see what mischief we can get up to.”
Sebastian saw you briefly glance over to Honeyduke’s. “Perhaps I can treat you to some desserts like I’d promised on the way over,” and there is a question, a near undetectable longing hidden by your smile, but it didn’t matter, because it was present in your eyes, too. 
His smirk grew into an endearing smile, “Only if you promise to let me treat you to butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks afterwards.”
“I’ll keep it under consideration,” you pursed your lips, dangling the small burlap bag of galleons you found on the trail over between your pointer and thumb. “But I’m afraid one of us has a knack for treasure hunting and happens to be a few galleons richer.”
Sebastian shook his head, seemingly defeated, “I’m afraid your ‘knack for treasure hunting’ has very little to do with my proposal.” There was that twinkle in his eyes, and you knew that he had something prepared, as he always does. “Don’t you know that the gentleman always pays on the first date?”
You worked hard to contain your fumbling, internally swearing at him because somehow he always just has one comment locked and ready to fire. It was so difficult to try and play a game of charm and wit because he truly was the master. 
All you could do was scoff, hoping that when you opened your mouth again, the most brilliant retort would fall out on it’s own. Before a word could fall out of your mouth, though, the ground began to rumble, loud thumps coming from behind the quaint village and exponentially rising in volume. As the thumps grew larger and larger, harsh sounds of crashes, breaking wood, and screams joined into the mix. 
Out of seemingly nowhere, a fighter troll clad in armor glowing similarly to the dragon’s collar or Ranrok’s magic ran into the village, smashing stalls under it’s feet before launching into the air and smacking it’s large club into the ground before the pedestrians. 
It didn’t matter to Sebastian that you had beaten him so swiftly and brutally in the earlier Defense Against the Dark Arts class--the single event that had him watching your every move with a close eye; Sebastian was not thinking logically when he put his arm out in front of you, fingers grasping onto your ropes as he shuffled to block your body with his. He acted solely on instinct, his need to protect overwhelming every sense and clouding every thought. 
You peeked out from behind his shoulder as he slowly pulled his wand out, and you did the same, watching the troll’s line of sight slowly change from the adult villagers to you and Sebastian. The screams slowly got more distant as most of the villagers who were too scared to fight the troll ran for the exit, or for any cover at all. 
The troll took a second when looking in your direction, as if registering who you were, but as soon as those few seconds were over, your eyes widened as the troll began to charge at the two of you. Sebastian flung at him with his wand, but it was to no avail. Only when one of the aurors of the village cast bombarda right at the troll’s head did it stop, going after the villagers instead of you two. 
Sebastian’s grip on your robes loosened, his frame still blocking your body slightly, but he finally let go when he’d felt the area was clear. Precisely at the moment that Sebastian had turned to you, almost blushing as to excuse himself for grabbing onto you and forcing you behind him, a second troll came smashing through a house and now the pair of you were the sole targets, no backup to save you now. It charged at you quickly, but like clockwork, both you and Sebastian ducked and rolled. 
There was such a simplicity to duelling with Sebastian, and despite it being your very first fight as a duo rather than opponents, the flow was seamless. The fighting ability and teamwork came naturally, like he was the thunder to your lightning. Sebastian used confringo quite a lot, which you’d noted to ask him to teach you later. You found your new power in some sort of powerful non-verbal magic, only discovering it out of fear and instinct when you saw Sebastian get corned by the troll. 
Although Sebastian helped quite a lot, your newfound ability was what ultimately made the troll collapse, having one final box thrown at his head finally knocked the monster to his knees, and as Sebastian caught his breath, he glanced up to watch as you held your wand to your palm, a bright glow gathering before you threw a ball of who-knows-what at the troll. The giant shattered into shards, dissipating into thin air, and when Sebastian looked back at you, he caught a glimpse of a small, triumphant smile on your face. 
He felt something churn so deeply in his stomach that he’d wondered what the elves had put in his tart this morning, but it only took seconds for the realization to cross his mind, and he finally realized what it was that made his heart feel full and his cheeks flush--pride. 
Aurors and adult villagers all gathered around you amidst the rubble, Sebastian only standing back to watch as you were praised for your bravery. Jealousy was absent from Sebastian, and all his mind was filled with was your sly smile and the memory of his hand tugging on your robes, desperate to protect you without realizing that it was you who would protect him. 
As an officer was congratulating you, all that was stuck in Sebastian’s mind was the terrified look on your face when the troll had him cornered, and how without effort or thought you moved to save him, power flowing through you with ease. For you, saving him had no contest in your mind and there was no second-guessing, no hesitation. It was instinct for you, but for Sebastian, having someone care so deeply with no reservations was so foreign that he didn’t register time passing until you were stood in front of him, having repaired all the buildings and broken stalls in the square. You’d also been awarded a new robe that wasn’t marred with scratches and dirt from the battle, which Sebastian recognized fit you incredibly well.  
“Sebastian,” his name rolled off your tongue like a prayer, and a smile grew on your face as soon as he met your eyes. “I’d say we earned a butterbeer or two, how about you?”
He sighed dramatically, hoping you’d find humor in it. “It might help me forget that I was almost pulverized by a troll.”
Sebastian was quickly rewarded by a laugh that tumbled out of your mouth, warm and honey-like and after so long of simply being able to smirk, revelling in the satisfaction of you being so unmistakenly smitten by him, he now had to face that you’d called his bluff. There was something deeper between the two of you, and he could feel it when you spoke to him, “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
You grabbed out your small pouch of galleons, begging Sebastian to escort you to buy some chocolate frogs from Honeyduke’s before heading over to the Three Broomsticks. Just as you plopped the package down on the counter, Sebastian wordlessly took out his spare change and set it neatly next to the chocolate frogs. You froze, fingers still reaching into your pouch as you looked to him with furrowed brows. 
He grabbed the chocolate frogs off the counter, smiling at you and then at the storeowner, before guiding you away. He opened the door for you and passed you your chocolates, “What’s some spare change in exchange for not getting wacked by a troll club?”
You scoffed, “Are you trying to bribe me, Sallow?”
He shook his head, smirking. “No,” he flung his arm around your shoulder, leaning into your ear once again. “You’re just incredible.” His warmth was engulfing now, and you were so close to the salvation of him really holding you that it started to make you dizzy. You felt ridiculous, childish smile and feverish flush taking over your whole face, and he was so close. 
You felt like you were just about to close the distance, wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze enough for your hips to meld together when something in the tone shifted, your stomach dropped and the hairs on the back fo your neck stood up perfectly straight. 
You looked around, watching a peculiar looking man wander down into an alley, and then you caught it, a glimpse of Ranrok standing, and he looked rather angry. Sebastian’s arm dropped from you immediately, the two of you seeking cover to eavesdrop, and this time, it was you who stood in front, and Sebastian’s heart fluttered at your innate need to protect him. 
Your heart constricted, Sebastian’s confusion over the situation palpable behind you. Ranrok had sent the trolls to Hogsmeade in an attempt to get to you, underestimating your abilities by far. Sebastian felt even more intrigued by you than before, his eyes watching the side of your face closely as he tried to gauge your reaction. 
You made brief eye contact with Ranrok, and you were so startled by the look in his eyes that you immediately grabbed Sebastian by the sleeve of his robe, only bothering to whisper a hurried “We should go,” before tugging him away and into the more populated street. 
“Did they see us?” Sebastian questsioned worriedly, eyes scanning all around the street, your fingers dropping from his robe as you tried to hasten your pace, deciding it would be best for the two of you to hide out in the Three Broomsticks. “What was that goblin doing with Victor Rookwood?”
You mumbled something about a goblin named Ranrok and a rebellion, but Sebastian was barely paying enough attention to not stumble over his own feet, let alone try and decipher your ramblings. 
“Ranrok?” Sebastian’s face quickly dropped, turning into one of harsh realization, “You mean the goblin from the Daily Prophet? I knew I’d recognized him from somewhere, I--” and his face managed to get even stonier. He lightly grasped your arm, trying to guide you to walk in front of him as he watched Rookwood emerge from the alley, searching the streets. “Quickly,” Sebastian muttered in your ear, glancing behind him and all he could think of was keeping you safe. 
Sebastian practically busted open the doors of the Three Broomsticks, the attention of all the patrons turning quickly to the two of you. A goblin passed you on the way in, but you were so focused on trying to be inconspicuous you barely thought anything of it. Sebastian’s hand was still resting on your upper arm, bringing you to a seat. His arm only dropped when he went to pull out your stool for you, and you found yourself wanting him to put it back, to comfort you with his touch again. 
You almost wished you’d find yourself in more danger when he was around if this was what it led to--his warmth lingering and his smell clouding your senses and better judgment. His hand reached up to his hair now, tangling in it as he glanced from you to the barkeeper to the door in rapid succession, repeatedly. 
Sebastian relaxed quickly after Sirona started talking though, making brief introductions and offering the first two butterbeers on the house. You took a sip quickly, your eyes peeking just enough over the rim to stay alert. “I heard about the attack,” Sirona began, and the cockiest of grins creeped onto Sebastian’s face. “I’m glad to see you two escaped injury.”
“Thanks to this one,” Sebastian laid his heavy eyes on you, and you nearly rolled your eyes at just how smitten he looked, huge smile adorning his face. “Single-handedly took down a troll!” he praised, raising his mug high in celebration. 
Sirona shared a knowing smile with Sebastian, as if she could read him like a book, “Is that right? Well done.” After brief conversation, she left the bar to attend to other guests, allowing you time to break open your chocolate frogs and pop them in your mouth. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sebastian teased, noting your glare at him just a few seconds prior. 
You shook your head, trying to finish your chocolate frog quickly so you could answer him. “Must you embarrass me with your praise everywhere we go?”
He hummed, “I’m the type to brag about my closest friends. I can’t help it.”
Just as you were raising the mug to your lips, nearly finishing off your first cup of butterbeer, the large doors creaked open to reveal Rookwood and Harlow, a much stubbier sidekick. Sebastian sat up straighter in his seat, looking you in the eye as you both hoped that the pair wouldn’t notice you. Sirona quickly walked over, asking them to leave. 
As the tension in the room escalated, Sebastian’s face leaned ever closer to yours, looking you sternly with his eyes cloudy, filled with danger. You could hear Rookwood’s sneer in his voice, “Come now, no need for theatrics.” You looked to Sebastian as he watched Rookwood in the corner of his eye. “I’m only here for this one, anyway.”
You squeezed your eyes shut if only for a second, turning around and stepping off your stool, Sebastian quickly following you, standing as close to you as possible. If you’d ever glanced down, you’d see his hands in fists hovering over his pocket, his legs planted in the ground, like he was ready for a fight. “My friend is enjoying a well-earned butterbeer.”
“I only want a quick word,” and he tries to prowl towards you, head closer to you than his feet. Every patron stands up and draws their wand, and Sebastian, rather than tugging you behind him like he did in the past, steadies himself by your side and draws his wand quicker than anyone else in the entire tavern. 
Your eyes leave Rookwood’s if only for a second, glancing at the side of Sebastian’s face, his jaw hardened and eyes stone cold. Rookwood backs away, still threatening Sirona as he takes slow footsteps backwards. Just as he turned, about to open the door, his eyes glanced back at you and Sebastian. He smirked, “Can’t drink butterbeers forever.”
When he left, you decided to return to your seat, grabbing your mug and finally taking your last swig. Sebastian grabbed his stool, pulling it slightly closer to yours before settling down, also finishing off his butterbeer. “You’ll be telling me about this later,” he stated matter-of-factly, and all you could do was let out a chuckle, silently agreeing. 
You ordered three more rounds, your stomachs nearly caving in on themselves from the sheer amount of butterbeers the two of you drank. You talked about anything and everything--classes, Sebastian’s plan to duel as a team, his previous adventures with Anne and Ominis--you were chatting, snacking on chocolate frogs, and sipping your complimentary drinks until well after the sun went down. 
As time passed in the Three Broomsticks, the two of you kept unknowingly scooting your stools closer together, upper arms pressed against one another, necks sore from constantly looking to the side. Even as the patrons came and went, the one consistent sound was the laughter of you and Sebastian, childish and playful. 
Your fingers brushed, eyes barely leaving each other’s faces, and it felt like no time had passed at all. Only when you heard brief whispers about a curfew did you glance out the window to see how late it’d gotten. You almost didn’t want to leave the safety of the Three Broomsticks, remembering Rookwood’s threat that seemed to imply he’d be waiting for you as soon as you left. 
When you got out of your seat and headed for the doors, Sebastian’s hand brushed over the small of your back so briefly you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it, but you saw his hand fall back to his side out of the corner of your eye. After you reached the crisp night air of Hogsmeade, looking at the twinkling lights that hung over the streets and the stars they were reminscient of, you never got that gut feeling you knew so well. 
You walked down the street, returning to Hogwarts with Sebastian in comfortable silence. As you glanced down the street, you saw one Theophilus Harlow slumped over, sitting against a wall on the ground, fast asleep. Sebastian’s eyes followed yours, and he had to stop himself from letting out a chuckle at the sight. As you passed the bridge to Hogsmeade, far enough that you were sure you were safe, Sebastian leaned over to you again. “Maybe we can drink butterbeers forever.”
Your smile was bright enough, Sebastian noted, to compete with the moon. He felt rewarded by your happiness, and worked hard to contain the joy that felt like it was pouring out of him. “Maybe not forever,” you remarked, “but we can drink butterbeers together long enough to put the whole world to sleep.”
He silently agreed, but still felt the need to counter anyways, just to continue the game that he felt you’d both already lost. “The volume of our laughter might just be enough to wake the whole world up.”
You shook your head, finally ready for a response off the cuff, having learned from the best. “I’m sure the world has grown used to it by now.”
And finally, you decided to be the one to push instead of him, never growing impatient of the game but rather reveling in it. Your hand reached for his forearm, grasping around his bicep and holding it lightly. His eyes caught yours, his lips curled into a smirk, and you felt you could push further. 
Your hand snaked down, gliding along his silky robes, and both of your hearts beat faster, in tandem with one another. Sebastian felt dizzied by your touch, all alarms sounding off in his mind, knowing that you were about to win this game you’d been playing. Your hand grasped his, fingers that had been chilled from the night air finding solace in one another. Your thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand, toeing the line between harmless flirting and something more. 
Sebastian’s hand squeezed yours, and you resisted the urge to hold your breath, only looking up at him through your eyelashes, lips curved only slightly into the smallest of smiles. The two of you continued the rest of the way to your common room in a comfortable and warm silence, pathway illuminated by the moon and the stars.
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