#we are so happy you are here and we need to do this more often

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 4

Normally I would go back and forth between the two stories, but this one had more chapters backlogged, so it gets to go again.

Just a reminder, starting next week, I'll be taking a break from posting. I'm recovering from all the crazy writing I did this month. 12 ficlets, 1 multi-chaptered Christmas story, and a shorter one-shot of one of the ficlets. All total roughly 30k words in a month. So... yeah. I'm taking a well deserved break.

In this we have Dustin and Mike being teenagers, Robin spots a rogue Chrissy, and Steve has to deal with a very angry brownie (fae, not food).

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

~

A curly haired boy came bursting through the front door and Steve glared at him. “Dustin, how many times do I have to tell you to not just barge in?””

Dustin skidded to a stop and looked up at Steve like he didn’t know his ass from his elbow.

“Bav lets me,” he said smugly crossing his arms and grinning with that stupid gap-tooth grin of his.

Steve put his hands on his hip and sighed. He looked up at the roof, pursing his lips as he fought back the angry response. “Bav is not the only being with thoughts and feelings and while she ‘lets’ you it doesn’t mean you should. Because I sometimes work on dangerous things and if you come barging in, you might get hurt.”

Dustin scoffed. “Like she would let me in if you were doing something dangerous or whatever.”

The walls seemed annoyingly smug and tinted a shimmering grey-green.

“If these walls could talk,” Dustin continued with a smirk, “she would be agreeing with me.”

Steve pinched the the bridge of his nose and sighed. The truth was, he didn’t want Dustin bursting in because he was trying to find a ‘don’t hate me’ spell or charm to get Eddie to ease up off him a bit. But while there were friendship charms and love potions, neither really fit what he was looking for.

“What did you need?” he asked instead. “Or are you here to harass me?”

Dustin put his hands over his heart. “Ah! I’m offended that you think the only two reasons I would come visit are harassing you or wanting something from you.”

“There is another reason you come over?” Steve asked with a huff. He walked over to the bookshelf and began skimming the titles. He pulled out a large blue tome and flipped to a specific page as Dustin watched with suspicion. “How quickly do you think I could brew a truth potion and slip it in your tea?”

Dustin held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. All right. Sheesh. I wanted to beat Mike to the deliveries today because Mr. Jenner is making his apple cider and he always pours a glass for the one who delivers your asthma medicine.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. “Mike beat you by twenty minutes, man. In fact he should be back here in about five minutes.”

“Nooooo...” Dustin wailed, “that’s so not fair!”

The walls drooped and turned a pale blue. Steve shook his head. “It’s good thing I love you both,” he huffed stomping over to the icebox.

He pulled out an earthenware jug and took down two glasses. He filled both of them with a cool amber liquid and handed one glass to Dustin and then poured the other glass out the window and on to the foundation.

Dustin looked down at the cup and took a cautious sip and then a more enthusiastic gulp. “When did you get this?” He shook his head. “Wait before you answer that, did you just pour out a perfectly good cup of Mr. Jenner’s cider out onto the ground?”

Steve stroked the door frame to the back garden. “Sure, Bav deserves some too.”

The house seemed to get a little bit bigger as the walls turned a pretty, happy dusky pink.

Dustin blinked a moment before he finished the rest of his cider. “Seriously, though. I thought Mr. Jenner doesn’t make the cider until the afternoon.”

“The perks of being the town witch,” Steve said sagely. “People are very superstitious and I’ll often get the first wool or the first bag of flour. In this case, the first jug of cider.”

Dustin looked down at his empty cup and then up at Steve. “That’s actually kinda badass, you know?”

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I was about to make lunch if you would like to stay. Mike will be joining us...just...about...now.”

There was a knock on the door and Dustin went to go answer it. Sure enough on the other side of the door was Mike Wheeler.

Dustin looked back at Steve in shock. “How did you know it was Mike? Did Bav tell you? Can you see through walls?”

Mike just shoulder past him to get into the house, greeting Bav briefly before sitting down at the tea table.

“None of the above,” Steve said placing the cold meat sandwiches on the table. He pointed to the window. “I know how long each of you take on your runs and when I looked out the window, he had just passed in front. No sit down and eat your sandwich.”

Dustin grumbled but did as he was told. He took a big bite and hummed happily around his bite of food. “You make the best sandwiches, Steve.”

Mike nodded. “Thanks for the food. I just get so hungry these days and my mom keeps threatening to rehome me because I eat so much.”

Steve chuckled and sat down with his own plate of food. It was actually a normal amount because he hadn’t used magic today. “I remember what that was like, I’m not much older than you two, so I don’t mind sharing a meal or two to take the burden off your parents a little.”

“I think that’s why Ma doesn’t mind me hanging out over here,” Dustin said around a bite. “She knows you’ll take care of me.”

Steve smiled and shook his head, taking a bite of his food. Claudia Henderson was notoriously protective of her son. She wouldn’t trust the Pope with Dustin and she was Catholic. But somehow, someway she trusted Steve to take care of her Dusty.

He sent them off with full stomachs and cakes for their moms. They didn’t need to know that the cakes, which he was with absolute certainty never actually made it home, were just little charms of be nice to your mom magic. Karen Wheeler and Claudia Henderson deserved a day of their sons being so sweet to them.

Which was the real reason their moms were okay with Steve. Because they were always so nice when they came home from spending time with him. Or on the off chance the cakes did make it home, they had a nice cake to eat and were nicer to their families afterwards. All in all, win/win for everyone.

Robin chose that moment to come home. “I’m in love with your house, Steve. She made the journey home take a little bit longer so I could avoid the buttheads.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, she’s great like that.”

“So guess who I saw coming out of the Munsons’ house on the way home?” she said, putting away the groceries she had into town for.

Steve paused his clearing of the lunch mess and straightened up. “No...really?”

Robin pursed her lips and nodded. “Apparently Chrissy Cunningham is branching out since her dramatic break up with Jason Carver.”

Steve finished the dishes with a sigh. “It’s no surprise that his confrontation with Eddie and Bav was public knowledge by breakfast the next day, but even I think visiting another man so soon after your ex went insane and tried to break into someone’s house is little reckless, honestly.”

Robin winced. “Ooh, yeah. I didn’t even think about the crazy ex. Yeah. Ooh. Maybe she was trying to come here and, I don’t know, apologize?”

“I don’t put the ‘no return’ spell on the love charms,” Steve said, drying his hands. “I like it when they find their truelove and they come back all happy and smiles. If she was looking for me, she missed the mark a second time.”

Robin spun around. “Wait is that why?” Steve nodded. “Are there other charms you don’t put your ‘no return’ spell on? Or is it just that one?”

Steve just shrugged. “My medicines, I guess. That’s where I make the most money or get the best trades. But as for the other things, I saw what happens when you don’t set a boundary with people asking for charms. They’ll start asking for charms for everything. They’ll want to be cured of every ill, want everything handed to them, so I created the spell myself. It’s unique in all the world.”

“I didn’t know that,” Robin said softly. “About...well any of that I guess. You really don’t talk about your past. Of your life before Hawkins.”

Steve sat down at the table and placed his hands palm down on it. “Look, I don’t talk about it because for the large part, other than a couple of years apprenticing in her shop in the city, I grew up in a town of witches.”

Robin’s eyes went wide and she sat down next to him. “So you can’t talk about it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know if I would say can’t talk about. But it’s hard sometimes when I say something and everyone stares at me blankly, like I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“And with each look and with each comment about how weird you are,” she said softly, taking his hand, “the less you want to bring it up. I’m sorry, Steve.”

“And with there being trouble in town with the whole Chrissy situation...” He sighed. “I’m think starting to wonder if Bav sensed something about her and tried to keep her away.”

The house seemed to shrink on itself a little and the walls turned a light grey.

Steve looked up at the ceiling and cooed, “I’m not blaming you, Bav, I’m blaming myself for not taking in everyone’s advice and giving it to her. Merlin and Circe didn’t like her either. Especially Merlin.”

Robin nodded. “As my familiar I should I have listened to him, too. He’s been giving me the cold shoulder ever since she showed up, as well. It’s a whole mess.”

Just then Circe came bursting through the window cawing angrily.

Steve buried his head in his hands. “Fucking hell! As if this day couldn’t get any worse.” He sighed heavily. “Tell Dustin to keep his shirt on and I’ll be right there.”

Robin sighed dramatically, throwing her head back. “Who would have thought that a Roman Catholic would even have a house elf to anger? Scratch that, who would have thought that house elves even existed?!”

Steve stopped half way to rising. “Like everyone knows that house elves exist. We don’t have any because Bav thinks they’re pests, but like even my dad knew better than to insult Mom’s house elf. Her name was Nora and best seamstress I’ve ever met.”

Robin stared at him blankly. “You want to run that past me again?”

Steve just rolled his eyes and got out a cup of milk and a little bowl of sugar, setting them carefully in a basket. Then he added honey, walnuts, and mint. He wanted to cover all his bases he didn’t know what this elf favored and wanted to make sure they weren’t offended further.

Then he went over to the bookshelf and after skimming the titles for a moment, he pulled out a small green book. He handed it to her. “Read that while I’m gone. The whole thing is useful, but I’d start with page eighty-six. The chapter on house elves.”

Then before Robin could even squawk a protest, Steve was out the door following Circe at speed, running to keep up.

He skidded to a stop in front of the Hendersons’ door to find that Dustin and Walter had been locked out of the house while screams could be heard from inside.

It didn’t sounded pained, it sounded indignant.

“Stand aside please,” Steve said sternly. Dustin and Walter looked back at Steve, thinking he meant them, but suddenly the screaming inside stopped and the door opened. “Thank you.” He turned back to the Henderson men. “Please wait here.”

But before either one of them could protest, Steve had already walked into the house and closed it tightly behind him.

He surveyed the damage. Claudia Henderson stood on the kitchen table battling a broom with her rolling pin. It was worse than he feared. He set his load down on the counter and began unpacking his treats.

The broom stopped moving, and then was slowly, cautiously put down. Once Steve had finished unpacking the honey, suddenly there was a little round faced woman about the size of Steve’s palm standing next to his basket with a red flower as a hat and bright clothes.

“What is that?” Claudia hissed, jumping down from the table.

“You’ll excuse her manners, little one,” Steve murmured, “it appears that she’s never heard of house elves before.”

The elf glared Claudia over her shoulder and then turned back to paw over Steve’s prizes.

“I didn’t have any cream,” he continued. “So I hope the milk is fine.”

The elf put her little hand in the milk and then stuck her hand in her mouth. “It’s good milk. You do your mother proud.”

Steve grinned at that. “So I take it you know Nora then?”

“Who’s Nora?” Claudia asked drawing closer to the two of them at the counter.

“Of course I know my own sister!” the little squeaked. “I’m Nona by the way. Please to meet you, Stevie.”

Claudia stopped dead in her tracks as she realized what was going on. She turned on her heel and began rummaging around in her ice box. “Eureka!” she cried.

She brought over a bowl and set down on the counter next to Nona. “I’m sorry little one. I wasn’t raised with knowledge of your people. I’m new to this town and was not aware of its different ways.”

Nona turned around and sniffed at the bowl cautiously. She looked up at Claudia in awe. “Clotted cream!” She put her hand in and pulled out a handful of the cream. She shoved it in her face with a contented hum.

“I didn’t know your family wasn’t from Hawkins,” Steve murmured. But he turned to Nona. “Would you please let the boys in, they must be so worried about Claudia.”

Nona looked up from her feast in wide eyed shock. “Oops!” She snapped her fingers and suddenly both Dustin and Walter spilled out on the ground as the door opened under their weight.

Steve went over and helped them to their feet. “Sorry about Nona, she didn’t know you weren’t familiar with house elves and thought you were actively insulting her.”

Dustin and Walter shared a shocked glance then looked over at the little woman eating their clotted cream.

“This is a house elf,” Steve said as Nona curtsied. “Her name is Nona and she helps out around the house. This has been her home for longer than this particular building has stood here. She will do the laundry or any chores left over the night. All she asks in return is a treat of her choice.”

“Does it have to be clotted cream every time?” Dustin asked as she wiped the mess of cream from her face with her apron.

“No,” Nona said. “But it was nice apology, though. I like honey and milk. So as long as you keep a bowl of of one of the two out, your food will never spoil and I will help out around the house.”

The Hendersons all exchanged glances and then Claudia nodded.

Walter stuck out his finger for her to shake. “Welcome to the family, Nona.”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

[grinchdelia]

1. Anti-civ does not mean being against medicine. Every culture on the planet practices medicine, and this has been the case for as long as culture has existed. It's true that something like cancer is hard to treat without recent technology, but it's also true that we get a lot more cancer, autoimmune disorders, metabolic issues, etc now. The system that is capable of treating these problems is the same system that causes most of them in the first place.

2. The science thing is more complicated but let's get into what science even is. You can talk about science in the epistemological sense or in the institutional sense. This is definitely something a lot of anti-civ folks would not agree with me on, I'm not going to defend anyone else's opinion here. Speaking personally, my feelings on the scientific method of learning and knowing are messy but I'm not going to toss out empiricism completely. It's good to question beliefs.

Scientific institutions.... are primarily tools of the state. Certainly not all scientists or even the majority spend their time on the kinds of projects I'm talking about. But the reason science as a whole is valued is because it is used to make effective weapons and tools of control. Zooming out a little bit, I don't dislike empiricism itself, but I'm skeptical of the goal of amassing knowledge. This knowledge is part of the wealth of corporate and governmental powers and is far less useful to us than it is to them. Knowledge should be embedded within a living culture, not hoarded to be available as a means.

3. Curious to hear about the good way of making computers? My position is that even if human laborers were happy to work in mines for some reason, the mines would still be doing violence to the land. But for the sake of argument let's say there's a way to do the mining that causes minimal harm to the land. How much work do you think it would take to make one computer ethically? Do you think it would be realistic for very many people to have access to these fantastically complex tools, built in a cleanroom with machines built by machines built by machines built by machines? And again, how much space on our shared earth does this whole apparatus take up?

To be fair, I'd love to not have a phone, so in a better world where I can have a good life without one, that's at least one less that you'd need to make!

4. Which leads me to the basic hypocrisy that anti-civ folks are continually accused of. I actually don't have much of a defense to this one other than that it's difficult to live the life I want to live. I would really really really love to spend most of my time outside or in simply built shelters, never looking at a screen again. I have tried actually and I think the first issue is that it's a goal for a community, not for an individual. The community is by far the most important part and they've been systematically broken. Living alone on foraged food is still just barely possible, but it doesn't resemble the life I dream of. It's only superficially similar. The other point I want to make is that even for a community, it's damn hard to make this work in the world we live in. People are sincerely trying, and often failing, not because it's a bad way to live but because capital and civ culture will not let us. There's also some successes but the success tends to come with a lot of compromise. Still, we gotta keep trying, cause what else can we do?

5. Finally, we get to questions that I think need to be asked and don't have answers I like. How do we get there from here? Billions of people are dependent upon the system we live in functioning well. In short, you are right, there is no way for everyone to transition to non-civilized ways of living. A lot of anti-civ folks don't like to admit that. Some just live in denial and then there's the ones who actually advocate for mass death. Thankfully not that many in my experience but it's still an issue.

I certainly can't speak for anyone else and my views may not be representative of the anti-civ crowd as a whole, it's been so many years since I talked to many other anarchists so I don't know where people are at anymore and I no longer remember a lot from when I was in the scene. But let me try to elaborate a little on where I'm at personally.

I don't see a way for everyone alive now to get out of the machine and not die horribly. But as the godspeed track goes, it's also pretty clear to me that the machine is bleeding to death. It's almost certainly not going stop functioning all at once, but as the decline continues, things are going to get much worse for all of us trapped inside. Meanwhile the land and the waters have been degraded to the point where anyone who tries to escape by "living off the land" is in for a rude awakening. (This completely aside from the basic calculation that not every human would have enough space to feed themselves on our shared earth, even if our ecology was in a better condition.) Not incidentally, colonization of indigenous peoples is ongoing and anyone who remains on their ancestral land is still having to fight back attempts to force them off.

In short, we're pretty fucked. I genuinely do not understand how pro-industrial anarchists or communists think we're going to get out of this one (without mass death). In my opinion it's just as delusional as that section of anti-civ anarchists who are in denial. You can even make similar arguments that if they somehow manage to pull off a revolution, the transition is going to kill a whole lot of people because it's all quite fragile and keeping the machine running smoothly is necessary to forestall immediate catastrophe.

However, I'm actually not that bothered about a hypothetical situation where either pro-industrial ancoms or anti-civ anarchists are in that position. It just doesn't strike me as realistic enough to worry about. I cannot imagine myself ever having to make those sorts of decisions. I'm also not delusional enough to imagine that I could somehow strike at the global industrial system in a way which might bring the whole thing down and thereby cause mass death. Even if I wanted to do that, it's just larping, and I think taking that kind of thing seriously encourages people to develop unhealthy fantasies about something that will never happen. I won't theorize about how anarchists could solve these kinds of issues because it puts us in this mindset that we have to wield absolute power correctly to fix things. That's not how any of this works. The death machine has got us in this horrible position that can not possibly end well, and I can't do anything about that. Obviously don't trust anyone who has ideas about how to design the perfect world for us all to decivilize or whatever, that's completely missing the point and it's depressing how many people do think that way.

So, after all that pessimism, what do I stand for? I just want to live my life. I'd like to say that what I do doesn't have to have a purpose but that's actually not true either. I do feel like I have work to do. I think helping the people in front of me in little ways in really important, but that's not an anti-civ specific thing obviously. Maybe a more relevant thing to add is that we need to put time into the groundwork of living culture. Find ways to relate to other humans and the more than human world, because without that, there's not even a possibility of things being better. A long time ago I used to be all for "tear it down first" but I've more or less done a 180 on that. I live in the USA and right now, if the government and capitalism collapsed instantly for some unforseen reason, almost nobody would be ready to start building a better life. I'm not going to make predictions about the time scale here but I absolutely do believe that global collapse of civilization is happening, and I'm going to live with that in mind. No, it's not possible for everyone to go forage, but there are little things we can do to help heal the places we live. Maybe on the day I'm in need, there will be a fruit on the tree for me in return. The suffering of the world is truly monumental and the good I can do is so small but that makes it feel really important to start working on these things.

Hope you enjoyed the glimpse into some sort of anti-civ perspective, however different it may be from others! There are a lot more people involved in this sort of culture building work than you might think, but you won't hear from most of them since they're out doing the thing. I'm a rare case in that I know some of those people but I'm also online, at least for the moment. Might as well evangelize while I'm here.

Funny thing about that anti civ person is that like. They could just do what folks that live off the grid do, but more extreme. If you hate civilization you’re…allowed to live somewhere else. Hell since they’re so convinced in their own definition of civilization they have even more options! (Though they’ll probably be disappointed to find out first hand their definition was wrong)

I mean in a way I understand. If you truly believe that civilization is the worst thing to happen to humanity and you want the best for humanity, you will even use the tools of civilization to persuade other people to your ideas.

The thing of course is that I don't believe on that and it's so incredibly easy to point out that computers are made by, well, civilization.

I also think that to say "well go live in the woods then" is a bit rude but... honestly, if the anti-civ way of life is more rewarding, we would see more people trying to do it right? We would see people in third-world countries protesting against schools, hospitals, universities, transportation, etc. instead of wanting those, right? But instead you will find, surprisingly, that people want a better life for themselves and those who they love. And this isn't opposed to enviromental stewardship and protection, as it's often the same people who live in those places who also want enviromental protection.

It's often through organized systems, civilization, that people achieve human rights, a good life, and indeed, are able to organize how to protect nature.

It's just completely disconnected from the aspirations of most people.

[strnilolover]

strnilolover’s appreciation post !!

i’ve been seeing everyone do this and i feel as though it’s only right to do the same because i have to many amazing people who i’ve gotten to know and interact with on the time i’ve been on here for. <3

i want everyone to know that i love you ALL. i am so proud of each and everyone of you and i’m ALWAYS here when ever you need me or what to talk!

there’s so many more amazing people, but these right here are pretty much my ride or die’s and i would do anything for them just to see them happy!

@hearts4werka - vera, you were one of the first people that i talked to in my dm’s ever. tbh i was so nervous to at first because you are one of the people i look up to. you’ve always been so supportive and such a sweet soul every-time we talk. your writing is amazing and i love when we’re able to share ideas with one another. you’re full of so much energy even when it’s late at night for you or early in the morning. always saying good morning to me or telling me to get my ass to bed when i need to. i love all of your series and im so excited to see what others you come up with in the future as well as au’s! please dont ever die. i love you!

@adoreechxmpion - bri, when we first started talking it was so fun right off the bat. and the way we met was undeniably hilarious. i love talking to you when i get the chance, you always brighten up my day and make me feel happy. your writing too is just *chefs kiss*. i also love hearing about your day and how you’re doing when you tell me. you’re always so so sweet and such a lovable person, even when things get rough for you. i love you!

@sturniqloo - lili, we started talking through bri and honestly it’s been AMAZING. you are such a hype woman fr and your bots that you make are to fucking die for. you’re always so kind and was willing to help me with my dealer!chris when i was having a hard time trying to figure him out. i always love talking to you even if we have such a big time difference. i love you!

@endereies - kay, we just started talking about a week ago (or less) and it feels like i’ve known you for a while which is crazy. i love spilling my thoughts to you and it’s always fun to see little pictures or videos of what you’re doing when you send them to me. if i’m being honest, i was also nervous to talk to you because i see you as one of the bigger accounts on here, and your writing is to die for. but, you’re such a sweet person and someone who isn’t afraid to share their mind (dirty or not LMAO). i love you!

@victoriassadcorner - vee, i met you through bri as-well. i know we haven’t talked much, but it’s always fun seeing you and bri interact and knowing that i can jump in the conversation and you guys won’t mind. you are such a kind hearted soul and deserve every good thing that you get. (we need to talk more!!). i love you!

@phone4pills - slow, we don’t talk very often or interact as much as i want to but i will make sure to do that more! you’re such an inspiration and someone i also look up to when i’m writing or making au’s. you are so so sweet and gentle, letting me come into your inbox and talk about anything and everything when i do decide to. your writing and au’s are LITERALLY amazing. i’m so glad i was able to meet someone like you. i love you!

@cayleeuhithinknott - caylee, we may also not interact much, but when we do i absolutely love it! i was here for your other account before it got banned, being an anon on it because i still get scared to make requests for things or send in ideas even when i shouldn’t be. but when i did reveal myself, you were so happy and it felt like such a relief. i’m still sad that tumblr decided to remove your other account for no reason because your works on there were amazing and your works now still are! i definitely want to talk more in the future! i love you!

@bernardsbendystraws - rose, you were someone i didn’t even think i would be mutuals with. but i’m glad that we are. when ever i talk to you or pop up in your inbox, you’re always so kind and sweet. you’re someone i definitely look up to big time when it comes to writing, seeing how you piece your works together and how good they are and how much sentimental value they have to you makes me admire you that much more. and you’re such a talented writer. we may not talk much, but it’s always so fun when we do! i love you!

@sagesturns - sage, i always love when you pop into my inbox! telling me about what you’re doing or how your day is going and asking about mine in return. i always love hearing about what you’re working on too!! and your writing? i absolutely love it. you’re such an easy person to talk to and ease into conversations with! and i just want you to know that i am proud of you! i love you!

@sturniololuv08 - bri, honestly it was a surprise on how easily i slid into conversation with you one day when you started talking to me. we’ve only been talking for a little over a month and you’ve been nothing but an amazing person! and you’ve introduced me to some really great people like @chrissbug333 and @abbilmao . your writing is absolutely amazing and i love hearing all the wild ideas that run through your head and what things you’re writing and hearing the process of how they’re written out. you work so hard, not just in writing, but in real life too. always busting your ass and not getting enough sleep, that’s something i admire because i want to be just as hard working and driven as you are even if it’s hard to be. i love you!

@marrykisskilled - i absolutely ADORE you. you always like my posts and when you talk to me you’re just the SWEETEST. you also reblog my writing when i post and it makes me so so happy. i would absolutely love to talk to you more! i know you’re such a kind person just from how you interact with others and myself. i love you!

@strniloslvts - angie, you are such a talented writer!! your book that you’re writing right now is absolutely amazing so far and i LOVE IT. i also love when you come into my inbox a million times a day to ask how i’m doing or to tell me about what you’re doing. you always interact with my posts too and it makes me happy to know that you enjoy them! i definitely want to talk more to you whenever you have the chance! i love you!

@bluestriips - adelaide, you are SUCH A HYPE WOMAN. you’re always reblogging my posts and writings and i absolutely adore you for it!! you’re always so sweet to me and everyone i see you interact with! i haven’t gotten a chance to read your stuff on wattpad but i promise i will get to it and when i do i will let you know how much i LOVE IT. we don’t talk much but i want to! you seem like such a nice person and i can see it in little pieces that are here on tumblr. i love you!

@biieberfever - you are always sending me ideas and asks about my writings and au’s! i have you to thank for my adhd!reader au that i write for. we may not talk much, but your writing is amazing even if you’re only starting out! i love when we’re able to talk because you’re ideas are so good and i just know that when you post more writings, theyre just going to get better! i love you!

@ariestrxsh - aries, your writing is LITERALLY AMAZING. every-time i read it, it literally makes me just want to keep coming back because you have such an amazing way of constructing your works. your pizza boy chris and chratt fics? 😮‍💨 blows me away every time i read them. you’re so sweet to your anons and to whoever talks to you! and your advice you give them or telling them it’ll be okay really shows how much of an amazing person you are. i would love to talk more! i definitely have to pop into your inbox more lmao. i love you!

@chrislilcumslvt - marls, you are normally always one of the first people to like any of my things when i post and are just so so active. i literally love how sweet you are and how funny you are when interacting with others. and i see the way you comfort people, i know it takes a toll to be a person to comfort others but you are such an amazing soul! and how the first time we ever talked in my dm’s was to show you what i looked like and how SWEET YOU WERE TO ME??? i literally love you so much and want to talk to you more!!

@sweetshuga - isa, i am SO proud of you and how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time. the hype and love you get on your fics are so very deserved. your writing is phenomenal and i eat it up EVERY time. i loved our little talk session we had the other night, you just get me and i LOVE IT. you are literally so pretty and so so so talented and kind. i’m so glad i was able to stumble across and meet you! we definitely need to talk more <3

@ifwdominicfike - avery, your writing is so so so good (especially that sub!chris blurb earlier? OMG) i love everytime i get tagged in a new work of yours because i know it’s going to be good every time. i also love whenever you interact with me or reblog my things! it’s always so fun having our little interactions. i’m definitely going to talk to you more because you seem like such a awesome person! i love you!

@shadowthesim - honey, you are someone who i will talk to here and there. and everytime we do, i enjoy it! i’m so glad you decided to start posting your writings because you are AMAZING! and i had such a fun time trying to teach you how to use the gradient text and even helping you when you needed it! i’m so glad your fics get attention because they deserve them!! never stop writing boo, you’re doing amazing! i love you!

and to @her-favorite-deactivated2024111 who is no longer on here - kendra, you were the first person i ever started to talk to when i didn’t even have any writings on my blog. i always sent you ideas i had or little requests as talking to you through your inbox was such fun. you are such a sweet and kind person and i was lucky enough to have found you because if i didn’t, i probably wouldn’t be posting my writings and i wouldn’t have found all these amazing people i know today. you pushed me to post what i wrote, telling me that the right audience would love it and support me for it, and you were right. your writings were so amazing and i’m still sad that you decided to leave. but, i know it was for your own health! i’ll still be here when you decide to come back, for now i know you deserve a break to focus on yourself. i love you so much <3

[enbyfvcker]

["Merry Christmas, Honey Badger!"]

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 0.6k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Wade sets a Christmas Party.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Fluff, comfort, just them being all cute and domestic and Logan not being used to affection.

.

.

.

Wade always made a point to decorate the apartment on holidays and celebrate them properly. He didn't had that on his fucked up childhood, so it's important to him. Althea told Logan that, so he was playing along even though he didn't really care about those things. He cares about Wade.

Wade gave him really cheesy matching Christmas sweaters with their faces on them, and he hated them. But he wore it anyway. Logan wearing the one with a little Deadpool and Wade wearing one with a little Wolverine.

It was stupid, but it made Wade happy. Logan liked him smiling, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"We look so cute, peanut! Don't you think, Al? Oh, right, you can't see."

"Fuck off, jerk." The old lady spat.

"Well, I wish you could smell how adorable we look right now."

Logan grinned and shook his head. He was doing this more often, he realized. Smiling.

Mary Puppins walks in with her tongue out and Wade quickly scoops her up, the dog licking his face excitedly.

"Come to daddy, baby!"

"Oh, god. You got one for the dog, too?" Logan scowl when he sees dogpool wearing a little Christmas sweater just like them.

"Of course I did! She's our daughter!" The merc replies, holding Mary Puppins up as she wiggles. "Aren't you the cuttest little thing? Yes, you are!"

...

Wade invited the whole gang over: Laura, Yukio, Ellie, Peter... other side characters who didn't have any lines... And he may have cooked a feast - wearing his little "Kiss the cook" apron - and got gifts for everyone. He's cheesy like that. He's got a family now, and he doesn't take them for granted.

It was opening gifts time, and everyone was exchanging presents and there were a lot of "thank you's" and hugs.

It was still all foreign to Logan. He lived the past years all alone, and holidays like this used to be all the same to regular days where he would just drown himself in bottles of whiskey and be miserable.

But this family was nice. He felt like if Wade did, then he could belong, too.

Maybe he wasn't the Wolverine he should be, but Laura still seemed to like him and wanted to bond with him despite how fucked up he is. Wade adored him, and his friends were all kind to him.

Maybe he didn't have to be miserable forever. Maybe he could put his past behind and make a future in this new universe.

"For you." Wade announced, holding out a small wrapped box in front of Logan who was sitting on the couch. "Open."

Logan took the box and Wade sits beside him, tapping his fingers excitedly on his knees.

He unwraps it and when he opens it he sees dog tags that looked very alike the ones he had. He lost them in his universe while he was black out drunk.

But as he grabbed to examine them, he noticed this one's different.

On one side, it read: 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣, and when he turned it around, it read:

"𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙒𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚"

He could feel his heart aching as he grabbed the tags tight.

"Did you make this?"

"Yeah! I didn't really know what to get you, so I- Oh my god- Are you crying?!"

"No." Logan lied, fighting back an insistent tear.

"Oh god, I can't believe I made Wolverine cry!"

"Shut up."

"Come here, honey badger." Wade coos, hugging Logan in a soft embrace.

Logan doesn't hug back, but he also doesn't pull away. He wouldn't admit, but he needed it a bit. So he just sniffed as he let Wade hold him.

And he may hide it under his shirts, but after that, he never took the tags off. Rubbing them affectionately like he used to do with his old ones. Except these were so more meaningful.

[End.]

Hope you liked it! I wanted to make a cute poolverine holiday fic, so he ya go! Them being all cute and domestic it's so important to me.

[velvetvexations]

as an autistic trans man, sometimes I feel less safe in public presenting as a man than as a woman, because, especially in certain places, man + visibly autistic tends to be more often falsely read as "dangerous and predatory" than when people read me as a woman.

Yeah, as an autistic trans woman who doesn't pass, I feel that. <3

Honestly thank you so much for what you do on this app. I'm so glad there's people who are actually willing to stand with trans men instead of pulling the "um well I have it worse so do NOT talk about your own oppression EVER or else you're a transmisogynist!" I'm so happy I found your blog and I hope you have a great week <3

I hope you have a great week as well!

Eh a long while ago Chris Fleming made a video making fun of polyamorous people which used a lot of the same hurtful stereotypes society already perpetuates against us and I’ve not paid attention since

Noted, as someone who is also poly.

i wish the queer community didnt put so much emphasis on sexuality labels like i just want to have sex why do i need to put a word to it

very valid

about the dropout “discourse”: hot take but real life people are not representation. theyre people. real people are not queerbaiting you and real people happening to not be transfem (and I have literally seen transfems in some dropout episodes theyre just not part of the main cast) is not a lack of representation. these are real people. stop* *not you, the people being shitty about it

the complaint is not in any way coming from a genuine place tbh

hey! i just wanted to let you know how much your blog means to me as a trans guy. you and your reblogs have given me hope at trans unity, and lets me know that i-- that we-- aren't alone. so thank you for everything you do, and i greatly appreciate your support and look up to you 💛

Thank you. <3

i redownloaded etsy recently and seeing all the trans stuff saved to my favorites is so sad. i used to feel happy and proud and i wanted to be open about being transmasc. but since all the discourse got worse i just. cant bring myself to feel like it matters. it makes me feel like im trans and yet i will never matter the way other trans people do.

You do matter anon, I promise. I love you, you matter, and I'm glad you're here.

As a trans guy a lot of the self-ID'd TME transmascs weird me out so much. Like why do they all sound like "I am so strong and my power to Harm Women is immense. I could do it so much and I feel the pull to the Transmisogynist Dark Side but *unsheaths sword* I will protect them instead with my big strong testosterone arms from my fellow men" like what even is that. Who is into this.

it's so incredibly obviously bad but it reinforces some people's victim complexes so it's praxis now

a trans person will joke about their experience and a trf will jump in to assume theyre a white transmasc who has never ever faced any real difficulties for being trans

every time

Out of the many, many stupid ideas in this dumb discourse, I've finally decided the one I hate the most is that underlying implication that transmascs just aren't trans enough. It's so gross seeing people imply that we aren't really trans. Our dysphoria is minimal discomfort at most, apparently. I've seen people post about and imply that transmascs will never understand not feeling like a person or being unable to live a life pre transition and that's why we have privilege, i guess - are you kidding me? It's like our experiences are a joke to these people who are clearly so wrapped up in their online discourse bubble that they're just detached from what it's like for trans people as a whole. Sorry for the vent (would rather not post this on main and I don't have anyone to talk to) but it's just the most grating part. Also it's like. Low-key transmed shit. Thought we left that behind, c'mon.

transmeds are like ants they come back every summer

i wish TRFs had a label they proudly called themselves so i could jsut go through their tags and block them, but noooooo they HAVE to frame their transphobic bullshit as Brilliant Transfeminist Theory. like atleast radfems are fucking honest about being radfems

That's part of why I made antigonism a label for anti-TRFs to call themselves~!

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 11 - The mirror is a trap that saves

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Elvis is a little dominant, use of daddy in a sexual context, bit of dollification, objectification if you squint, possessive kink, praise kink, p in v sex.

It's Christmas eve, and Elvis scratches his bearded chin as he walks arm in arm with Tegan and their dog through the snowy park. He's grown a beard to make it easier for him to dress up as Santa for the grandkids, but he started too late and it's itchy. Tegan told him that the itchy stage would finish soon (her ex had a beard) but he's preoccupied by how annoying it is right now. The dog is a chow cross that they chose together at a rescue centre, as soon as Elvis found out that Tegan loved dogs as much as him. She made the mistake of telling him about the Welsh language band Ffa Coffi Pawb - literally meaning “everyone's coffee beans”, but pronounced fah-koff-ee pow-b which made it sound a lot like fuck off everyone, in a combination of Welsh and English - Wenglish - and he decided that was the perfect name for their new furry friend. In the end he went for Ffa Coffi, which Tegan thinks doesn't really work as a pun, but Elvis enjoys saying regardless. Tegan also doesn't think a dog can be called Coffee Beans (bean would be fine, but the plural just seems crazy) but mostly they just shout “COFFI!” which works in either language. The most important thing is that Coffi is laid back and will barely chase after a ball, never mind other people's pets. And he puts up with Tegan cuddling him all the time without ever trying to lick her face. Sometimes when Elvis sees them curled up on the sofa together he wonders if he will ever get a look in. 

The beard and the fact that he’s wrapped up for the cold mean that barely anyone recognises Elvis, and so they’ve come out without any kind of back up. Elvis feels more and more comfortable doing that nowadays, happy to just walk around with Tegan and Coffi. They don’t see the paps often in the cold, and when they do they just do their best to ignore them. As they make their way through the snow, he’s reminded of the day at the zoo, when they definitely did have to have back up. 

“Hey, I bet if we went ta the zoo today no-one would bother us.”

Tegan snorts. “And all the animals would probably be indoors by the fire with a cocoa.”

“Cocoa?”

“Oh, hot chocolate.”

“Ah.”

They carry on for a while in silence, then Elvis pipes up again. 

“I’m sorry about that day, honey. Ya didn’t deserve bein’ dragged through the press like ya were.”

Her smile is slight as she remembers the horrible events of the day after. “Neither did you.”

Stopping, he turns to her and looks into her face seriously. “Ya didn’t deserve the way I treated ya, either.”

Her eyes dart around, awkwardly, and she eventually settles on looking down at Coffi. “Well, that was a while ago, now, ‘raur. Things have been much better since then.”

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he reaches for hers to hold them. The dog lead slips onto her wrist and Coffi sits down between them, looking up patiently. 

“Ya know yer beautiful, right?”

She frowns a little, still looking at the dog. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with… before.”

He steps towards her and the dog whines a little at being hemmed in between them. 

“Will ya look at me, pretty girl?”

Her nose wrinkles and she looks up cautiously. “We’ve been through this, ‘raur. I’m almost 40 years old.”

“Alright then. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, woman.”

There’s a trace of a smile on her face as he moves his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, making her stagger forwards for balance as he crashes his lips against hers. 

“Mmm. ‘Raur,” she chides, a blush rising on her face as he pulls back. 

“Can’t get ya ta listen otherwise, can I?” He grumbles, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. “Now I’ve got yer attention, will ya answer me?”

“About what?”

Elvis growls deep in his throat, making Coffi yelp in surprise. “I want ya ta tell me yer beautiful.”

“Elvis…”

“No.” The word is sharp and the force of it makes her tremble. “Don’t Elvis me. Tell me what I want ta hear.”

“I guess I look better now I've had my hair and nails done…”

Nudging the dog out of the way with his foot, Elvis closes the gap between them and puts his lips to Tegan’s ear.

“Well if yer not gonna tell me now I'll haveta fuck it outta ya later.” His voice is low and gravelly and she trembles again at the pitch and the force of the words. She can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and finds her thighs rubbing together almost of their own accord. “Hm?” He prompts, not moving his mouth from her ear. 

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers back. 

He's half-tempted to reply “yes, Daddy, what?” but he decides not to push it outdoors, and responds with a quick “good” instead. He steps back and takes the dog lead off Tegan, gently tugging Coffi towards him. 

“Time ta head back.”

They turn and walk back towards the car, Tegan’s stomach flipping as the words he’d just said run through her mind over and over again. As well as the consistent erections, the pills had given Elvis a little more confidence, but he’d never said anything like that outside of the bedroom, let alone outside of the house. On the drive home they make small talk about when they’re going to put out the presents, and what they’ve bought for other people, but Tegan’s brain keeps short-circuiting to him telling her he’s going to fuck it out of her. She watches him carry on doing normal, everyday things when they’re back at Graceland. Feeding the dog, making coffee. 

“Elvis?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

He moves to put his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Of course ya can.”

His lips are soft and the kiss is gentle. Tegan feels herself relax. She smiles as he pulls back. 

“Thanks.”

He chuckles softly. “Mmm. No problem.” Stroking her cheek, he continues, “you lookin’ forward to dressin’ up as Mrs Claus later? Puttin’ on that little outfit I bought ya?”

She looks at his expression for a moment and then shakes her head a little. “It’s obscene, isn’t it?”

He pretends to look offended. “Obscene? Somethin’ I bought fer ya?” When she carries on staring at him with one raised eyebrow he relents. “Okay, yeah, so it’s a little short. Gotta show off my girl’s legs though, haven’t I?”

“To who?!”

“Ah. Okay, ya got me there.” He ponders the question for a moment. “Alright. It’s self-gratification. Jus’ wanna see ‘em myself.”

She keeps shaking her head but they’re both giggling and then they’re kissing again. Tegan hears someone clearing their throat and pulls back quickly. 

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got two kids demanding lunch.” Lisa-Marie smiles at them both. 

“Chefs are on their way in,” Elvis explains, looking at his watch. “Ten minutes or so an’ then they’ll be makin’ somethin’. Kids’ll have ta be patient.”

The impatient children appear as if they’ve been summoned by the conversation, and Elvis suggests they all go down to the den and hang out there instead. Ben follows his sister, explaining some comic book or other that he’s been reading to her in painstaking detail, whilst she pulls the most bored face Tegan thinks she’s ever seen. Elvis settles into an armchair and pulls his girlfriend into his lap. One arm rests around her waist whilst his other hand brushes her hair away from her neck to give him easy access to press kisses to it every so often. He always seems to know when she needs reassurance. 

“You two are so sweet together,” Lisa remarks. 

“Ah, I’m lucky she puts up with me,” Elvis replies, his fingers combing through Tegan’s hair. “She’s got the patience of a saint.”

“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Tegan complains. 

Lisa starts saying something about him being a pain in the ass, but Tegan can barely hear it because his lips are next to her ear again, murmuring, “think ya like it when I do that, honey.” Her pussy tingles at the words and she swallows, thickly. Managing after what seems like minutes to tune back into the conversation, only to hear Elvis saying,

“She’s way too good fer me, and far too pretty.”

The tingling between her legs intensifies. She does like it. She likes it way too much. Fuck. She tries to calm down as she hears Lisa ask her a question to draw her back into the conversation. 

“Oh well, I mean he is better than me at karate, I suppose…”

They bounce back and forth and she starts to feel herself relax. But Elvis had felt the way she’d tensed and seen the blush on her face. He certainly hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to knowing what women like, he thinks. Not at all. 

***

Tegan looks at herself in the mirror, turning to the side and tugging at the hem of her dress a little. She’d been right when she accused Elvis of buying her an obscene costume - it only just covers her ass. At least it’s not skin tight, she muses. But there’s no way she’s bending over in it in the best of the house. She pulls the santa hat onto her head and laughs at her reflection. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be in one of the bedrooms in Graceland, wearing a skimpy Mrs Claus outfit and getting ready to arrange presents underneath the Christmas tree (a task that was now definitely seeming impossible to do without flashing someone) she’d have laughed them out of town. And yet, here she is.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of Elvis in his own Santa costume. She turns and runs daintily towards him, the red sparkly heels he’d bought her slowing her down a little. Throwing her arms around his neck she grins as his hands grip her lower back. 

“You look very handsome as Father Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I look like an old man in a Santa costume, honey.”

“You look handsome,” she tells him firmly, and he leans down to kiss her with a smile. 

“Father Christmas,” he teases, doing a bad impression of her accent. 

She sniggers. “Daddy Christmas.”

His hand reaches down to squeeze her ass. “Yeah, ya can call me that if ya want.”

They both giggle a little before he insists on looking at her properly in her outfit, twirling her around and making approving noises. 

“You’ve outdone yourself here, Presley,” he says, to himself. 

She can’t help smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. He lets out a sharp breath and then shakes his head quickly as if to dispel the dirty thoughts. 

“Right, let’s get these gifts done.” 

He gives her a quick slap on the ass and she squeals. “Elvis!”

“Thought it was Daddy Christmas,” he replies, one eyebrow raised and a little smile playing on his lips. 

“You are incorrigible.”

“You are incorrigible, Daddy Christmas.”

Tegan doubles over laughing at that, which Elvis particularly enjoys given the length of her skirt and the lacey panties he’d bought her to wear with her outfit. 

“I swear these pills have made you worse.”

“Ya won’t learn, will ya? Call me by my name or I’ll have to put ya over my knee and we’ll never get these gifts done.”

Managing eventually to keep a straight face, she puts her arms back around his neck and looks up into his face. 

“Sorry, Daddy Christmas,” she coos. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. I don’t want to miss out on my presents.”

“I’ll definitely be givin’ ya somethin’ later if yer good,” he teases back. 

After more giggling, nose scrunching and forehead kisses, they eventually untangle themselves and head downstairs to arrange the presents, fetching them from outside of bedroom doors and piling them up underneath the tree. They fill the kids’ stockings and Elvis eats the cookie left out for Santa, leaving the glass of sherry to Tegan, since she’d insisted on it. Much to her relief, no-one comes out to see them at work so she doesn’t have to worry about her modesty too much. It’s still good to be in Elvis’ room afterwards, especially when he tells her he has some gifts to give her now. 

“Don’t think this is somethin’ everyone needs ta see,” he explains, handing her a beautifully wrapped package. “An’ the other one,” he gestures at the box next to her on the bed, “is somethin’ I want ya wearin’ tomorrow.”

“Which one first?”

He taps the package in her hand. “That one.”

She unwraps it carefully, then immediately bursts out laughing. It’s not just one present - it’s a set of three pairs of panties with ELVIS embroidered on the back in silver script. 

“Oh my God! Did you have these made?!”

He nods, grinning a little bashfully. “Thought you might like ‘em. Ya can wear a pair tomorrow under that dress I bought ya.”

Elvis had bought her yet another gold dress, which he somehow hadn’t classed as a Christmas present, having given it to her earlier in the week. She thinks she ought to be overwhelmed by all the presents, and she’s certainly nervous to see his reaction to what she’s bought him, but every time he produces another one she’s filled with a kind of warm joy. He loves giving and she loves receiving. They’re a match made in heaven. 

She smirks and once she’s finished looking at the panties she reaches for the next present. Under the wrapping paper is a beautiful velvet box, and inside the box is… 

“Oh ‘raur!!” She exclaims, very carefully lifting the tiara out of the box. It’s gold and covered in diamonds and she hates to think how much money it must have cost. “Oh cariad, it’s beautiful.” 

“Put it on, honey.”

She pushes the santa hat off her head as she gets up and walks over to the full-length mirror. Carefully replacing the hat with the tiara, she fiddles with her hair and turns her head from side to side, looking at the stones sparkling in the light. Elvis comes up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“My beautiful Queenie.”

She blushes and looks down. “Oh ‘raur. It’s too much.”

“Uh-uh. Nothin’ too much f’my Queenie.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He kisses her cheek this time and his eyes lock with hers in the mirror. “Let’s see ya in it and those panties, then.”

She spins around in his arms, her arms reaching around his neck. “Am I just some kind of naughty fashion show for you?”

“Yep,” he replies, patting her ass. “Off ya go now. Do as yer told.”

Part of her can’t believe she’s just going along with this, going into the en suite to take her dress and underwear off, and put the new panties on. She hadn’t thought that being with Elvis would be like being his little doll sometimes, and she also hadn’t thought that she’d like it so much. She opens the door slowly, then steps back into the bedroom. Elvis is still fully-clothed, sitting on his bed waiting for her. As soon as he spots her, looking a little shy only a few steps into the room, he beckons her over. 

“C’mere. That’s it. Spin round fer me. Mmmm. Lookin’ good, Tegan bach.”

Once she’s finished with being paraded around in a circle for the second time that evening, Tegan gets onto Elvis’ lap. She much prefers being close to him like this to being made to strut about like a catwalk model, and she presses herself up against him, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin against his soft, almost furry suit. His hands rub up and down her back, kissing her deeply as she rolls her hips against him. 

“Ya gonna tell me what I want ta hear yet?” He murmurs in her ear. 

“Mmm. No. Think you promised something about fucking it out of me.”

He hums and pulls his belt off, before reaching into the pants of his suit and pulling his dick out. “Sit on it fer me, honey.”

She moves to take her panties off and one of his hands grips her arm. He shakes his head. “Keep ‘em on. Jus’ move ‘em to the side.”

Moaning, she slowly eases him inside her until she’s full, sitting on his lap, her head against his shoulder, panting. 

“Good girl. Want ya ta remember who ya belong to.”

“I couldn’t…forget… Elvis.”

“Mmmm. Yer all mine.”

She tries to steady her breathing, still leaning heavily against him. 

“Okay, baby?” He asks, softly, when she still doesn’t move. 

“Mmm. Yes. Fuck.”

“This enough fer ya?”

She smiles against him. “I was promised a fuck.”

He smiles back, thinking how much he loves her in this moment. His hands move to grip her hips and he uses them to move her, slowly at first and then gathering pace. The tiara slips and she quickly removes it, setting it safely on the bedside table. 

“Now?” He asks, pulling her up and slamming her back down on him, hard. 

She whines. “I… oh… fuck…”

“That’s not it, honey.”

“I… oh, fine! I’m beautiful! I’m… fuck…” she forces the words out and at around the same time her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding truck. 

“Yes ya fuckin’ are,” he replies, through gritted teeth as he feels her squeezing him. His hips buck a few times and then he’s cumming inside her too. 

She falls down against him like a ragdoll, puffing and panting. Once he's managed to get his santa suit off he pulls her back into his arms. They lie together for a while, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Tegan starts to think about the next day, and who will be arriving when, her brain lazily trying to figure out logistics. They chat about it for a while, Elvis reassuring her that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s already planned it all.

“So that’s everyone, I think.”

“Sure you haven’t missed anyone?”

“Oh, yeah. Jerry will be comin’. On his own, though. Wife left ‘im. Thought he might want company.”

“Who’s Jerry?”

“Friend a mine from before. Lives in LA now. Pretty boy, ‘bout seven years younger ‘an me.”

“You didn’t say.”

“Musta forgot, honey. Ya’ll like ‘im. Everyone likes Jerry.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

“‘Course I did, honey. He’s lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ya.”

Tegan thinks she’s looking forward to meeting him too, for some reason she can’t quite define. They carry on talking until Elvis starts to drift off, and so Tegan extracts herself from his arms and gets more comfortable. Imagining Graceland on Christmas morning, bustling with life and joy until she falls asleep too. 

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[venice-1987]

One thing I actually love about season 7, and really the entirety of Arc 2 in general is Terry. So often, media chooses to depict trans men as angry, bitter, mean, etc, whether that be because of the myth that Testosterone makes you an angrier person, because of how they think the world has wronged them (which is valid), or because they're a man now, so they must be angry. And unfortunately, these perceptions of trans men have bled into real life, even within our own community. All trans men must be violent perpetrators of toxic masculinity and patriarchy because we are men, even hen we are ourselves victims of a patriarchy that is violent to us, pre and post transition.

Now, The Dragon Prince is Queernorm and dealing with many more plot and character threads than a patriarchy that isn't there in the world, so I never expected Terry to embody these themes. But He still could have fallen into the stereotype, nonetheless, because the Dragon Prince was written by people that live in our real world where these stereotypes do exist.

But he didn't. He is an embodiment of peace and harmony and love in nature. He giggles and claps his hands at the carousel in the puzzle house. He has an sensory anxiety routine ready to calm his girlfriend down. He is polite and awkward and positive towards Viren, who is a mean mass, frankly. He defends a mother bird, and takes care of her kids when he fails. He does the classic "Hey, Zuko here!" to join the good guys and is bamboozled when no one knows who he is. He is happy when a very angry and protective brother bear Soren does recognize him though. He is the source of many fart jokes. He wiggles his booty. He is protective of nature, and of the people he loves, even when he is hurt by them, and even when they are not on the same side anymore.

Terry is very important in this age of media where Trans men are either bad people or victims, and not anything else. I love him for that, and needed him, because I am more like him than any of the other trans men I've seen.

Also, DeadEnd Paranormal Park with Gay fail Barney, I love him too.

[chrystal-ink]

Shadvent calendar Day 22

Shadow x GN Reader

Wrapped in Red (Dress Version)

Content warning: Reader prefers dresses pants version here

Shadow adjusted his tie in the mirror checking the clock to make sure the two of you would be on time. Normally he wouldn't care too much about being late but since Rouge was hosting the annual Christmas eve party this year he wanted to show up on time out of respect for his friend.

Of course she chose a black tie dress code. so it was taking the two of you longer than usual to get ready.

"Are you ready? Were going to be late."

"Almost, I'm just having trouble with this zipper." You called from the closet.

"Well let me help come out here."

You emerged from behind the doors shadow had to do a double take your hair was styled in a way he hadn't seen you do it before highlighting every perfect feature on your face. You caried yourself in a way he hadn't seen before either much more elegant and graceful than normal. you looked amazing, and you knew it. And your dress, Holy shit.

your dress flowed behind you with each step, the fabric fell elegantly off of you perfectly highlighting your figure. you looked almost angelic like the dress was made by the threads of destiny just for you, it existed solely for your body without it it had no purpose. and the color wow, he had never seen you fully in red before, it complimented you perfectly.

Shadow felt a small blush form on his face, something that was rarely accomplished by anyone except for you. He was speechless seeing you in all your glory. You were almost too beautiful to speak to, and you were all his.

"Wow you look... wow" he finally managed to get out.

you smiled at the compliment. "Thank you darling, but we can't go anywhere with my dress unzipped, could you get it for me?"

"O- of course."

you giggled at Shadow's stammering it wasn't often that the black hedgehog was lost for words, you were happy to be the cause. you turned around exposing your bare back to him.

Shadow stepped near you taking in the sent of your perfume. you could feel his warm breath on your neck as he grasped the zipper. he gently brought the zipper up your back guiding his hand across each gentle curve of your spine.

The zipper was brought to its destination closing your dress.

"There we go all better my love." He murmured his low voice like velvet in your ears.

Shadow leaned his head down leaving a sensual kiss on your neck.

a gasp escaped your lips, it was your turn to blush now. you turned to face Shadow your faces inches apart. Shadows eyes darted to your lips his hand reached for your chin to bring your lips to his.

unfortunately, his hand did not reach it's destination.

"IS THAT THE TIME?" You exclaimed finally noticing the time on the wall. "WERE GOING TO BE LATE! WHY DID'NT YOU TELL ME SOONER?" you rushed off to grab the final items you needed leaving Shadow alone in the bedroom.

"Damn" Shadow sighed. he followed you out of the room only one thought on his mind. if your dress was that much fun to put on he couldn't wait to take it off later.

[moonteaa]

I have held out as long as I could. What Teba thoughts are currently swirling around?

OH MY GOODNESS! Finally got around to checking my silly inbox! My apologies!! I presume we’d like some more Dad Teba headcanons perhaps? hehe let me see here..

1. Teba gifted both Link and Zelda a hand crafted Rito headdress! Each headdress has each of their feathers (Teba, Tulin, and Saki) and next to the feathers (for Zelda) is a silent princess and (for Link) a blue nightshade to represent their place in their little Rito family! Hehe

2. Teba Knows Zelda’s favorite treat is fruit cake, always knows to bring her some when they see one another.

3. If any one in the group for some reason can’t sleep, or are struggling with nightmares and such, Teba is willing to stay up and whether they want to talk or just sit and be with each other’s company, then he’ll do just that.

4. I feel like Teba has very keen eyes for details and keeps in mind what everyone enjoys, dislikes, and needs.

5. Everyone likes to cuddle up against Teba, especially if they’re traveling in colder regions!

6. Teba is both impressed and bewildered when he sees Link eating rocks for the first time. There are many things about Link that impresses Teba, and eating rocks? Definitely up there.

7. Teba deeply respects Link, Zelda, and the sages but finds it difficult in his heart to accept the fact that kids are the ones holding the entire kingdom on their shoulders. It’s both admirable but heartbreaking.

8. Was so proud of Tulin when he became a sage but so worried. (Even if we don’t see it, I can imagine Teba feeling overcome with emotion when he gifts Tulin the Great Eagle Bow. His boy is growing up aksjs)

9. Zelda once gave him a silent princess flower and he safely keeps it wrapped around the belt of his armor.

10. Basically anything the others give him, it can be a tiny little trinket or something that held memories, Teba keeps it safe and at his home (or the flight range)

11. I like to think Teba has pictures around of both his family and his found family heh

12. Zelda likes taking the most silliest pictures of him with the Shiekah Slate/Purah pad

13. I think..when Teba sleeps he sometimes lets out little chirps ;-;

14. Teba really wants both Link and Zelda to rest.

(Often finds Zelda sleeping after working all night and tucks her into bed. Smh. She’s also fallen asleep on Teba many times.)

15. Teba struggled to get Zelda to open up about what was going on in her mind, eventually, they had a deep heart to heart and she opened up about her fears, traumas, and heavy burdens and weight she must carry alone and many tears were shed but with tears comes big and warm feathery hugs. He understands that she went through pain that no one her age should go through.

16. In fact..I imagine he’s had a heart to heart with all of his companions, he’s a very good listener and a friend and father figure to all.

17. Would not hesitate to die protecting the ones he cares for

18. Teba I believe is a Rito warrior who fights not just out of duty but out of love. Love for his home, his family, (blood related or not) friends. Overall, I think Teba is a warrior with a very golden heart which is why he was chosen to be Elder.

19. When he’s Elder however, he misses his companions, or as he likes to call them, his “kiddos”

20. Gets really happy when Link and Zelda visit (they visit their little Rito family very often.) Link and Zelda have their own little hammock for when they visit and stay the night!

21. Sometimes when Link and Tulin are off playing and being the best brothers, Zelda likes to sit with Teba and just talk.

22. Teba likely felt frustrated not being able to help search for Link and Zelda when they went missing after the upheval

23. Relief + Concern was felt when Link came back safely but ..WITH A NEW ARM??

24. Very happy to know link was safe but I can imagine not all was well knowing Zelda was still missing. The family wasn’t complete, you know? Agh!

25. When the Light Dragon (Zelda) flies by the regions of her companions (Sidon, Teba, Tulin, Riju, Yunobo) they all can feel Zelda’s presence but don’t understand why (yet)

25. Teba wouldn’t have fallen for Puppet Zelda, I think he would have been able to easily see through the disguise. That’s a dad’s intuition!

26. Yeah, Teba finding out about Zelda’s fate and becoming the light Dragon? He wasn’t okay. Not at all. Silent tears were shed. It was the closest experience to Teba “losing” a child and he never really recovered from that.

27. Teba once promised Zelda he would take her flying.

28. He did. When he flew beside the Light dragon and when he did he says with a bitter chuckle,

“This wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for.”

IM SORRY.

29. Trust me, they had a very happy family reunion. Had a difficult time letting either Link, Zelda and Tulin out of his sight and became slightly anxious.

30. Cannot comprehend what Zelda went through and the sacrifice she made. Deeply admires her but his heart aches for her too.

31. (HAPPY ZELINK ONE I SWEAR) Teba is the one to walk Zelda down the aisle when she marries Link. 🤍

Hope you enjoyed these!! Ah! If you ever want more well..I’m always here! I love found family so much! Hehe 😭

[pri-rp]

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, but even on the last round i never count an opponent out. Sometimes lucky can play a pretty large part in a Smash Tournament, with how unconventional some of the stages can be." She knows how vastly different Smash was from any sort of other fighting tournament. She'd checked out the battle dojo a couple of times in Toad Town. They clearly had pulled their punches and were uncomfortable though, so she didn't stick around.

"Well... Internally, things are rather calm, and the people get along well. There is one particularly rowdy neighbor, but that attention is less of conquering and more of... unwanted romantical pursuits that go the uncomfortable extremes for home's royalty. But aside from that, we do have our literal heros who are always there when things need done. From dispelling the messes made from the advances, to preventing some who'd destroy everything just out of their own pain, to even working with the rowdy neighbor a handful of times for the attempt or two there has been of conquering. We owe them more then they ever are willing to accept, frankly. Though, despite the song and dance of unwanted romance from the neighbor, That military might right besides us likely helps in the fact that home does not have many fighters... That, and our terrain can be a bit difficult to those who don't know the flora well." Pirahna plants were even able to get locals sometimes, let alone tourists... and it's not like they could just be trimmed.

She looks about at the happy families though. "You talk as if there is often tribulations here though: that conflict is a norm, and not an anomaly. That sounds... stressful, at best, to always have your head on a swivel like that."

"Contest, huh? So you fight in contests?" he asked, slowly trying to mentally pick apart how that worked. She seemed more focused on weapons than something like martial arts, but baseball bat or a golf club could cause some serious damage for a recreational fight. How could she and her opponent recover easily enough to keep at it? "I get the feeling you're the one I should bet on if I ever saw something like that." She did seem more well versed in ways to defend herself than anyone he'd encountered.

So not only could she fight, but she could babysit, too? She really could manage things on both ends of the spectrum. It was impressive really. What else could she do? Definitely a good thing she didn't hold grudges, because Havoc could see how Peach could turn out to be someone powerful. He didn't expect that he'd done anything wrong in the first place, though, and she seemed to be comfortable with their conversation. He doubted there was anything to worry about, even if he couldn't guarantee actually beating her in a fight.

Considering Amestris's strong military presence, it was completely foreign to Havoc for a country to have something more minimal. But he did perk up a bit when she asked a question about him personally. Maybe she was taking an interest in him, after all. "You don't say." He shifted to rest his arm over the back of the bench. "You know, the military's involved in pretty much everything around here. Government, law enforcement, defense. There's an investigations team, too. Most of what I'm involved in is going after whatever's threatening our city. We've got Central pretty safe, but better to stay prepared, you know? Where you're from must be pretty safe, as well, if you've got a smaller military, right?" He could never have dreamed up the sorts of things that happened in Peach's world in a million years.

[125storejuice]

[itsalwaysdark]

its so embarassing likee. going to talk abt a feeling you have but you already know ppl will be like Oh that sounds like depression lol and its like. well yes . i know . trust me i am so aware i am depressed . but its still like a thing ive been thinking abt and wanting to talk abt but ik itll just be like Ok hun 👍. idk idk what response i would want tho ig FNFNFNF

[geatsoneness]

Hey from Geats! I’ll have a go answering a few of these.

Yes, I do. (Spoilers for my source ahead.) Essentially, I was one of 4 aspects created from Ace when he got split by the Godslayers (Mela and Melo), and the last one alive (considered the leftovers/dregs) when Mela when took his/my power, luck and strength to destroy the world as Kamen Rider XGeats. I only survived, waking up on an endless beach, after my friends realised who I represented and protected me with their lives, and in the end, with their wishes and the hopes of the world, I got my rider form (Geats Oneness) and managed to stop them.

As a fictive, yeah! Here’s what I look like in source: (my outfit is still the same in headspace, here.)

3. I’m the god of, in short, humanity, determination, hope, the heart (in a heroism / hopepunk sense), and Kamen Riders/heroes. I’m also a guardian deity, and fight for a world where everyone can be happy, and I’ll be there if someone needs reminding they have a future and can be happy. I’m also a god of… ‘feeling and continuing on and finding hope/meaning despite a hostile world’, but I don’t think there’s a single word for that, along with joy is resistance, and cyclebreaking/positive change.

4. I’m not really worshipped in a traditional sense. If you do want to worship me, though… go out there and be the best person you can be. Be a good friend, keep on finding hope and joy even if the world doesn’t want to. Keep on learning, experience new things, find new music. Create some art, laugh with your friends, find what makes your heart happy, take a stand for others, volunteer and help someone else today. To everyone, you’ve got my blessing.

5. I do feel somewhat of a connection to the kami-sama of Shinto practice, as I’m an aspect of one in source. I don’t consider myself one specifically here, more of a god in a general sense.

6. These are more philosophies/movements, but joy is resistance and hopepunk.

7. Benevolent: In source, I’m there to help bring people hope, help them find happiness, and protect the world as a Kamen Rider.

8. Honestly about the same: there’s an awful lot of bad stuff in this world, and people who put down other people’s happiness for their own… but there’s also community, friendship, hope, chosen family, love of all kinds… and I believe it can overcome anything. That is especially important to hold onto now.

9. Not really, no. If I did… I’d probably appear in dreams most often, but I do have a physical form if I need it.

10. I did grant blessings, and help grant people’s wishes. If someone needed hope, I’d be there.

11. I think people would revere me more, even though I’m not really that type of god! I’m almost like… a friend/source of support you can call at any time. That’s the type of god I was, and still want to be, in the limited way I can now.

12. Quite a few, but strongest, The Flood by Take That. I edited my movie to it a while ago, and it works very well. https://open.spotify.com/track/3F0Ei18pIsOZlDiEA777hK?si=BZvxon0FRP2rNfcGi615B

13. Apart from their cards with their wishes on it… I think people would leave flowers, primarily. I think music would also be a big theme.

14. Do something kind for someone today, and no matter what, do not give up. Especially for marginalised people, finding joy, community, and building a future where we can be happy is an act of resistance. The first step to doing that is still being here. Remember, no matter what: someone like you has gone before you, and someday, someone will need to hear your story to get through the same things you have overcome.

15. I honestly don’t know? Centres of communities, parties, safe spaces… sunsets, a nice beach, art?

17. Not romantically, but I have many trusted Riders and friends who helped me and believed in me when I needed it most, and I now try and help them here in this brain, as nearly all of us Geats riders are headmates in this system. Our partner has a fictotype of one of them, though, and is a demon, so I guess you could say we are here.

19. Yeah, I’m a system host and caretaker, and I hold a lot of our emotions and passions. In short: I'm here to feel and process things, I'm here to find new music and find new stories, come up with ideas no one else thinks up, make new friends, play drums, learn new stuff, keep us going in a very dark world sometimes, create stuff, help us become a man/transition, remind someone there is still hope in this world, help people, try shake up and change this world for the better, and advocate and protect those I love and the communities we're a part of.

20. No, I’m still on Earth, but also above and aware of it all.

Deitykin/Godkin Question List ᯓ★

Do you have memories of being a deity? If so, what are they like?

Do you remember what your divine form looked like? If so, describe it!

Did you have a specific domain or aspect you ruled over (e.g., love, war, nature)?

Did mortals or other beings worship you? How does that memory feel?

Do you feel a connection to specific myths, cultures, or religions in this life?

Are there particular symbols, rituals, or practices that resonate with you as a deitykin?

Were you considered benevolent, neutral, or malevolent in your divine role?

How do you view mortals and humanity now compared to your past divine role?

Did you have a specific way of manifesting to mortals, such as dreams, visions, or physical apparitions?

Did you grant blessings, curses, or other forms of divine influence?

Were you revered or feared more than loved by mortals?

What song do you associate with yourself?

If you had a shrine today and were worshipped on a large-scale level, what items would people leave as offerings?

What offerings would you demand in today’s world?

What place would mortals associate with you (e.g., beaches, forests, mountains)?

Did you have a specific way of manifesting to mortals, such as dreams, visions, or physical apparitions?

Did you have relationships with other deities, mortals, or beings?

Do you remember what your divine form looked like?

Do you feel like you still have a purpose or role tied to your divine identity?

Did you reside in a specific realm or plane of existence as a deity?

These questions were inspired by @/courtroom-confession. Feel free to reblog and share your own questions, I encourage you to do so as I am curious as well.

I am also always open to answer any questions to those who seek knowledge, my friend, as I am open to all that you wish to know.

[mizumuu]

>Laughs Out Loud

I thought that piece was just about people focusing too hard on labelling Mizuki instead of letting them be themselves like they ask, not that it was transphobia ._ .

its ok to have ur own interpretation of that piece but its very clear to me that that wasnt ame's intention

[miraclemaya]

MADOKA - “I’m thinking I’ll order a beef udon bowl, since Sayaka-chan told me that they make those really good here. What about you, Homura-chan?”

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - Food needs can be met with an expenditure of 1.23% of total magic. Proceed?

GRIEF SYNDROME [Trivial: Success] - MAGICAL GIRLS THAT IGNORE FOOD ARE OFTEN MORE PRONE TO GRIEF ACCUMULATION. MY ARMS WILL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU, HOMURA, BUT IT’S IMPORTANT TO BE HAPPY UNTIL THAT DAY. BESIDES, MADOKA WANTS TO EAT WITH YOU. DISAPPOINTING HER WILL FILL YOUR SOUL GEM WITH A HALF A GRIEF SEED WORTH OF DESPAIR.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN [Legendary: Success] - Sayaka says the beef bowl is good? Maybe go for that. She knows Madoka’s tastes better than anyone — and if Madoka likes something, you will certainly like it too.

“I will have the same as you, Madoka.”

“I’m not feeling very hungry.”

[CALL AND RESPONSE - Medium 10] Come up with an order on your own

CALL AND RESPONSE - [Medium: Failure] - You’ve eaten here before, you’re pretty sure. Was it Loop 32… no, Loop 12..? No, wait, it was on the first Friday of Loop 68. No… that’s not right. You’ve never eaten here before. In a stunning display of incompetence, you have taken Madoka on a date to a restaurant that you have never experienced before.

THE ANGEL - It’s okay, Homura-chan! I don’t mind if you haven’t eaten here before. Remember what real me said, Sayaka thinks this place is good! And even if it’s not perfect, that’s okay, just spending time with you makes me happy.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Sayaka has raised her blade against Madoka 16 times before. You should leave this restaurant and kill her. It would only take-

FALLING SAND [Trivial: Success] - 1528 seconds on average.

CONSERVATION OF ENERGY - It can be cut down to 1243 seconds with an expenditure of 2.7% of total magic pool.

THE CRAVEN MASSES - Exactly. Do it in front of her family and make it bloody. Kyoko would likely try and stop you, but even she isn’t immune to bullets. And if Mami comes for revenge, well, you know the exact words you could say that would destroy her, don’t you?

THE ANGEL - A-Ah, I think that’s a bit of an extreme reaction, Homura-chan!

HUMAN SHELL - Your heart rate is increasing. Stop that. You have absolute control over your flesh. Act like it.

MOE INSTINCT - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE WE GOING TO ORDER MADOKA IS GOING TO LAUGH AT US

WITCH’S NIGHT - Is… is this a trap? Walpurgis may be defeated, but you know that the stage witch never truly ceases its show. Perhaps this restaurant is a part of the stage?

MADOKA - “Um, are you okay, Homura-chan?”

MOE INSTINCT - OH GOD SHE HATES US

“I’m going to kill myself.”

“I’m so sorry. Would killing myself make you feel more comfortable?”

Isn’t there anything else you can say?

YOU - Isn’t there anything else you can say?

THE DEVIL - Come on, Homura. It’s high time you do it. Really, this is just another in the long, long chain of failures that make up your life. The only way to fix it is to kill yourself.

CLOCKWORK PRECISION - Target: Located on right ring finger. Target is not moving. Chance to hit: High. Plan: Retrieve pistol. Aim pistol at ring. Pull trigger.

THE ANGEL - Oh my god, please do not do that!

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

There. There has to be better options than this.

YOU - There. There has to be better options than this.

MOE INSTINCT - I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. THE ONLY RECOURSE IS IMMEDIATE SUICIDE. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY MADOKA WILL LOVE YOU AGAIN.

"I am going to kill myself."

"I'm so sorry, I'll kill myself if it makes you feel better."

"I'm so sorry. Should I kill myself?"

YOU - “I’m going to kill myself.”

MADOKA - Madoka’s face twists, her eyebrows raising slightly in shock. Whatever response she was expecting, it was clearly not this.

GRIEF SYNDROME [Challenging: Success] - IF MADOKA WAS A MAGICAL GIRL, HER SOUL GEM WOULD FILL BY A QUARTER HEARING YOU SPEAK THOSE WORDS. THAT WAS CRUEL, HOMURA.

MOE INSTINCT - WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?

MADOKA - “I’m so sorry, Homura-chan. Please don’t do that. I… I really care about you and so does everyone else.” Madoka’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks. She hugs you.

DAMAGED MORALE -4

CALL AND RESPONSE [Trivial: Success] - Quick, tell her you were making an edgy joke that didn’t land. You’ve gotten away with that before, you’re pretty sure.

SPACE-TIME MASSACRE - Twelve quarter shifts left and two up from your current space-time position, and there’s a Japan that it’s actually illegal to not commit suicide in.

FALLING SAND - You’ve been seated for 5 minutes and 32.5 seconds already and still have not ordered. Mami has requested your presence at her apartment in 3.4 hours from now.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN - She wants to help you find a hobby. She’s really worried about you, you know.

STRINGS OF FATE - You can feel Madoka’s heart beat in sync with yours as she holds you. Everything will be alright, as long as you follow the beat.

THE ANGEL - Yeah! It’s okay Homura-chan. Just explain what’s been going on and Madoka will understand. And then order something, it’s important to eat a full meal!

YOU - “Ah, sorry Madoka. I was… overwhelmed with choice, and my… brain spit out the first thing it thought. I am not planning on killing myself.”

MADOKA - “Um, I think we should probably talk about this more, Homura-chan….”

CALL AND RESPONSE - Ask her a question to change the topic. It’s worked in three different loops, it should work here.

RATIONALITY COMPLEX [Trival: Success] - Ask her if she wants to try anything else and then order that for yourself. This will accomplish your goal of deciding on what to order, as well as showing Madoka that her desires are important to you.

YOU - “Is there anything else you’d like to try, Madoka? We can share our dishes.”

MADOKA - “Uh, okay Homura-chan. Maybe get some tempura?”

Order 10000 yen worth of tempura

Order 1000 yen worth of tempura

Order 100 yen worth of tempura

YOU - “Excuse me waiter, give me 10000 yen worth of tempura.”

HUMAN SHELL - Calories and magic are just two different types of fuel. Feed me and control me.

THE ANGEL - T-that’s probably too much, Homura-chan. Maybe you can sneak some into your cool shield, though!

MADOKA - Madoka doesn’t say anything, but her eyes do bulge out slightly. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and smiles at you.

HEALED MORALE +1

RATIONALITY COMPLEX - Displays of wealth like this can broadcast value to potential mates. This will increase your value in Madoka’s eyes, furthering along one of your goals.

THE ANGEL - I think you should just focus on enjoying the food, Homura-chan. Take a break, everything is okay.

Thank you.

Why don’t you hate me?

YOU - Why don’t you hate me?

THE ANGEL - Because I care about you, Homura-chan! And besides, you hate yourself far too much already.

Thank you.

THE ANGEL - You’re welcome! Now, please, enjoy your meal with real Madoka. She loves you a lot too, you know.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

indifferent [s.h.] 18+

an: heyyyy me again so yeah could not stop thinking about a pathetic steve so here we are!! enjoy and feel free to send suggestions, concepts, or just chat!!

side note i listened to i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys on a loop while writing this so do with thag what you will!

masterlist here!!

summary: you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention

(fem!reader x steve harrington)

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, public teasing (nothing too crazy), jealous reader, dirty talk, f masturbation, fingering, biting, kissing, spit, handjob MDNI!!!!!

wc: 15.5k

When it came to Steve Harrington, you were indifferent. 

You didn’t fall in with the group of girls who fawned over him like some king, worshiping the ground he walked on and giggling at his attempts at jokes. But you didn’t fall in with the other group either. The ones that hated him, that called him names and rolled their eyes when he walked in the room with a smile on his face. 

So you fell somewhere in the middle. To you Steve Harrington was your coworker, someone you often had to pick up the slack for or cover for when he was running late. You wouldn’t call him a friend but wouldn’t say he was your enemy either. 

The arrangement the two of you had worked well for you. You’d cover for him or save his ass when needed, and in turn he’d leave you alone. Well sometimes he would. You didn’t mind him but sometimes it seemed like he could go on forever and you just…it drove you a little crazy, okay? He was good about leaving you be, making small talk for a little before the both of you quieted down and went about your shift. 

Part of this arrangement was you teasing him until his cheeks burned and his felt fuzzy, but that was neither here nor there. 

But sometimes you think he just couldn’t help it. He’d start going on about something and then it would be 45 minutes later and he’d still be going. You let him do this about once or twice a week. You didn’t mind him or his company, so if it made him happy to ramble on every once in a while you could live with that. He was a yapper and you were quiet. You would hum along to something you’d heard on the way to work and entertain his chit chat for a few minutes but that was really it. 

Did that mean you couldn’t appreciate that he was actually really pretty? Of course not! He had dimples that made him seem boyish and sweet, even when he was being a menace. His hair was perfect, especially after he’d spent the day running his hands through it a million and one times. His lips were pouty and pink and so what if you stared at them when he was droning on about something? A perfect nose that you’d admired the slope of more times than you could count when he was sitting beside you going through returns. 

He was pretty. You wouldn’t deny that. But that was it. No more, no less. It didn’t mean you liked him or wanted him or would fall to your knees for him like half of Hawkins did. Sure, you passed the time at work by teasing him and making him squirm, but it was only because you were bored and he was there, all pretty and willing. 

You were indifferent. 

              ****************************************

Steve liked you. 

If you were in the same room as him he couldn’t help but to watch you. He didn’t know if you saw him and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d watch the way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear once every few minutes. He’d watch you scrunch your nose when you were reading and pout your rosy lips when sorting through dvd’s. God you were just so pretty. 

He wanted your attention all the time, he craved it. He knew he looked like a little lovesick puppy the way he followed you around and hoped you’d smile at him or indulge his ramblings every now and then. 

Pathetic. That’s what he was when it came to you. Sometimes you were a little mean to him but he liked it, loved anything you’d give him. He would even show up late on purpose sometimes just to hear you scold him! 

“M’not always gonna be here to cover for you, Harrington. Be a big boy and get to work on time.”

His cheeks would be pink and he’d give you a shy smile, promising this was the last time but you both knew better than to believe that. You didn’t put up with his bullshit, you called him out when he needed it and you didn’t try and act like somebody you weren’t around him. He loved it. 

Like today, you’d barely come in the door before he was on your heels, going on about some party from the weekend before and how it was sooo lame and that he didn’t have any fun. He’s so occupied with his rambling he doesn’t realize you’ve stopped until he slams into your back, hands coming up to grip your shoulders so you don’t both fall over. 

Your hands grip the counter just in time and he expects you to turn around and gripe at him, scolding him like a toddler who’d been on your heels but you don’t. You huff a laugh and playfully shove at his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“Jesus, Harrington. Maybe I need to get you a leash, hm?” 

And maybe Steve likes that a little too much because he can feel the tips of his ears burning and blush working its way up his neck and covering his cheeks in a pink that makes him squirm. 

He watched you quirk an eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk on those lips he’s dreamed about for months and he wonders why he’s not more embarrassed, why his heart is racing and his cock is swelling in his pants. Fuck.

“On second thought, I think maybe you’d like that a little too much.” 

              *************************************

One thing you love about working with Steve is teasing him. You’ve done good to not let him get too close to you, staying neutral when it comes to his antics but you can’t help the giddiness you feel watching him blush and squirm when you’re mean to him. You’ve come to learn he likes when you embarrass him. 

You’re embarrassed to admit it makes you feel a little powerful, a little special when you make him this way. He’s not the big, bad, ‘King Steve’ he was in high school when he’s in front of you, oh no. You think he’s quite pathetic the way he’s practically attached to your hip and you relish in the way he hangs onto every word you give him, especially considering you don’t give him much. 

Like today you’re perched on a stool at the cash register, barely working oscillating fan doing little to cool you down when the ac is shitty, pushing around warm air that makes your thighs stick together and leaves a sheen of sweat on your forehead. You hate the heat, but what you don’t hate is the way Steve’s eyes are glued to your thighs, watching closely every time you readjust or a bead of sweat slides down your leg. 

“Careful, Steve, I won't be happy if you drool on my leg.” That snaps him out of it, shoulders thrown back as he whips his head up to your face and oh yep! There’s those red cheeks you’ve come to like so much. 

He opens his mouth to say something, probably nothing that would make sense but you spare him from trying to explain his wandering eyes, reaching down into your bag to pull out your next bit of entertainment for the day. 

This’ll be good.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him watching you closely and you can’t help the smirk you wear when your fingers find what you were looking for, wrapping around it and pulling it out for Steve to see. You don’t miss the way his lips part or the way he grips the counter in front of you. 

“They’re my favorite,” you wave the cherry blow pop in front of you like you’ve found gold, smirking at the way his eyes follow it through the air, “I only have the one but I can share, I guess.” 

It would be rude of you to not offer him any. You might tease and be mean, but you certainly weren’t rude!

Ripping the wrapper off you waste no time, sticking the sweet treat in your cheek, throwing away the trash and swinging your legs around so you’re face to face with Steve, knees pressed against his as your feet dangle off the stool. 

Maybe you could blame the way you make a show out of it on the lack of customers today. You’ve been here for 4 hours and only a handful of people have come in. Yeah, that’ll do. That’s why you pull it from your mouth with a pop that makes him flinch, lolling your tongue around the candy in a way that makes his eyes glaze over. You can hear him gulp when you hollow your cheeks and close your eyes, pretending like the taste of artificial cherry is what’s making your ears buzz and your heart race. 

Dragging the blow pop from your mouth you gasp, letting your tongue swipe against your bottom lip that you’re sure is shiny with spit. “Oh, where are my manners! Here ya go, Harrington, have a lick.” 

Not giving him a second to react, you surge forward, pushing the sucker against his lips before he has the chance to open, smearing the stickiness and your spit around his mouth and smiling wide at the sight of him, a tint of red around his pouty lips that suits him well. 

“Messy boy, aren’t you?” You swipe your thumb over his lips, collecting some of the mess and you can see the way his tongue peaks out and you know he’s dying to let it touch your thumb. You pull back before he can, popping your thumb in your mouth and humming around it as if it’s the blow pop itself. 

“Told you I could share!” 

You could be indifferent to him and still want to make him melt to his knees for you, right? 

             **************************************

Steve thought about the cherry blow pop incident for weeks. He was surprised he didn’t cum in his pants like a teenager when the spit soaked treat touched his lips or when he watched you suck on your thumb after it swiped across his mouth. 

That was just one example of how you tortured him, how he loved it. He’d had to go home that night and barely made it through the front door before he was pulling his cock out and picturing you on your knees in front of him, teasing him for being a “messy boy.” 

You had no idea. 

This shit would happen, these events that Steve was positive were chemically altering his brain chemistry, and he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you? You’d do something like that, something so hot it was engraved in his mind forever and then five minutes later it would be as though it never happened. You’d smirk at him, go back to what you were doing and spend the rest of the day ignoring him or giving him one word responses while he begged at your feet for a scrap of attention. 

He really was like a puppy. 

So he was confused, beyond confused on if you were friends, if you wanted him…he just didn’t know what to make of it. He hadn’t seen you act this way with anyone else and it made him feel…special. God he was pathetic. 

The problem with all this was that he wasn’t entirely sure you didn’t hate his guts. I mean yeah, you’d tease and scold him when he was being an idiot and you were mean but never cruel or malicious. But you also never really went out of your way to start a conversation, never really cared to keep one up with him either. You rarely smiled at him, which killed him, because he saw the way you’d laugh at something Robin said or the amusement dancing in your eyes when the kids came in to raise hell. You never let him have it though, and fuck he wishes you would. All he got were teasing smirks and he wasn’t complaining about them, not one bit, but he wanted to see if he could make you all sweet and mushy like everyone else did. 

There’s been a few times he’s caught you staring but you never back down, never look embarrassed to have been watching him and he wonders if you were staring so hard to put a curse on his bloodline or something! He wouldn’t mind if you were, the feel of your eyes on him somewhat satiate the craving he has for you. 

He’s thinking about you again, just like always. In fact he’s so deep in thought, leaned forward letting his chin rest in his palm that for once he doesn’t notice you come up behind him. 

He wishes he would have noticed you because then maybe he could have prepared himself to talk you and then maybe he wouldn’t have fucked everything up the way he did. Maybe it would’ve gone differently and ended without you in tears and him feeling the world's biggest douche bag. 

“Dreamin’ about me, Harrington?” 

“Aren’t I always.” He meant for it to come out teasing—but it didn’t. Now you were staring at him and he was staring out the window, the tips of his ears burning and he wished he could swallow his own tongue. 

“Anyways, any chance you’ll cover my shift this Friday?” 

“Why? Where are you going?” Full on pouting now he finally met your gaze. You never missed a shift, in fact you were the only one that anyone could count on to pick up extra shifts. 

“Who are you, my daddy?” 

His fingers twitched on the counter in front of him and neither of you missed the way his throat bobbed. Jesus Christ you made him crazy. “If you must know, I have a date and Friday is the only day that works.” 

Wait—what? You had a date? With someone who was not him. Based on the way his heart dropped to his ass, he realized he might want far more than just your attention. His throat clogged as he looked at you, waiting as patiently as possible for his answer but fuck a date? You’d never gone on one as long as he’d known you—well that he knew of. 

“But…you don’t go on dates.” 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Oh he was fucked now. He’d opened his big mouth and pissed you off—not in the way he’d liked either. “Well I just, I just meant I’ve never seen anyone ask yo—I didn’t think anyone…or you…I’ve never seen you go on one so I just figured you didn’t.” His foot could not get any further down his throat. He was fucking this up royally, but he was flustered! The pretty girl he liked was going out with someone, god knows who, and his feelings were a little hurt, even if he didn’t have the right! 

“Forget it.” Any amusement you’d held towards him vanished, something else passed over you that he recognized as hurt and then anger. Lots of anger. 

“Wait! M’sorry, I didn’t mean it like tha—”

“No you wait, Harrington. I don’t care what you think or what you think you know, it’s none of your business. I didn’t ask for you to question whether it was possible someone could like me enough to take me out, I asked if you’d cover my shift. Which—by the way—is not a big ask considering I cover your ass at least two times a week! But forget it, asshole, I’m sure my date was a fluke anyways, right?” 

Before he could apologize or even blink you’d stormed away, slamming the break room door behind you. Shit he was an idiot! A huge, massive, blubbering idiot who’d made you more mad than he’d ever seen. His words got all jumbled around you anyways let alone when he was jealous over someone else getting to take you out. 

He’d fucked up big time and was just sure you were cursing his bloodline now. 

                 *********************************

Big, angry tears rolled down your cheeks in the employee bathroom you’d locked yourself in for the last twenty minutes. You were pissed, livid even, but more than that you were hurt. Which was only making you more mad, because why the hell did Steve Harrington have the power to hurt your feelings! He wasn’t anyone to you but a coworker, maybe an acquaintance, and yet here you were crying in the bathroom at work because he…what? Didn’t think you were pretty enough or cool enough or—whatever he fuckin’ thought—to date? 

Okay, sure he didn’t say that exactly, but how else were you supposed to take his blubbering. And yeah, for the most part you were quiet and reserved and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have feelings for godsake. 

At the end of the day Steve was a guy, a cute guy that you’d admired for his beauty and wouldn’t deny that he was overall sweet and kind, and you were a girl, a girl who apparently was not meant for dates. 

And that hurts your feelings more than you’d care to admit. 

A knock on the door had you wiping at your cheeks furiously, though at this point nothing would be able to hide your red cheeks and swollen eyes. “Who is it?” You cringed at how your voice sounded cracked and whiny. 

“It’s Robin,” Oh thank god. Thank fucking god it wasn’t Steve. “Dingus is out here looking like he’s about to have a meltdown but won’t tell me what’s up, just said you were back here and that I should come check on you.” 

Taking a deep breath you pulled the door open just enough for Robin to slip in, quickly closing it back behind her and trying not to let your bottom lip tremble when she turned to look at you and gasped. You weren’t even a crier! What was going on! 

“Woa—shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. Are you okay? What happened? Did they get Steve too, he seriously looks two seconds away from curling up on the floor.” Hands immediately covering your face you sigh, willing no more tears to fall until you can get out of here and into your own bed. 

“It’s not, I just—I really don’t wanna talk about it right now, okay? Do you think you could start early and cover the rest of my shift? I promise I’ll make it up to you I just…Rob I just need to go home.” 

“Of course I can, are you crazy? There’s nothing to make up. Go! I’ll tell Harrington you’re not feeling well and he’s stuck with me for the rest of the night,” giving you a reassuring squeeze as you gathered your things you’d grabbed on the way in here you gave her what you hoped came off as a thankful smile, “and when—if—you wanna talk about this, I’m here. Just so you know. I can listen sometimes despite what they all say.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand and giving yourself one last look in the mirror, grimacing at the utter mess you saw staring back at you. Hiking your bag on your shoulder you fled the safety of the bathroom and all but ran to the door. 

Steve was with a customer, the polite smile he had on his face completely wiped off when he caught a glimpse at your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You didn’t spare him one look, practically running for the door without uttering a word in his direction. 

God he felt like a piece of shit. He doesn’t think he’d ever seen you upset, let alone crying. He’d fucked up bad and didn’t know how to fix it when he’s sure you wouldn’t give him the time of day now. 

He’d have to find a way to make this better, the pit in his stomach growing when he thought of you being upset—hurt—because of him. 

He stood there staring at the door until Robin came up beside him, a concerned look on her face as she studied him. “Did she say what happened?” 

“No, she didn’t. Just said she needed to go home and didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve never seen her so upset though, I’m worried.”

He was thankful she didn’t call him out for his bullshit. It was obvious whatever happened had been between the two of you and he didn’t think he couldn’t take Robin ripping into him right now, even if he deserved it.

“Yeah, me too.” And fuck he was. 

             *************************************

3 days since Steve had made you cry. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt because if you were being honest with yourself, maybe there was a small, teeny tiny part of you that grew fond of Steve. Steve with his goofy smile and bashful grin when he’d tell you stupid jokes. 

It was one thing to be hurt because he’d been a jerk, but now you were dealing with feelings you didn’t want. You’d been hurt because you liked Steve and hearing him say…well you guess he didn’t say much, just stumbled his way through some sentences that all started pretty shitty, your feelings were all twisted up that he viewed you a certain way. 

But instead of thinking too hard about these newfound feelings you had, you chose to ignore it completely. Obviously! You didn’t have the time or energy to worry about what Steve Harrington thought of you, especially when you glance at the clock on your nightstand and shit you’re gonna be late for work! 

This is your first shift in 3 days and your stomach turns because you know you’ll be working with Steve. It also happened to be Friday, the day of your date that you had canceled in a fit of hurt and anger when you got home from your last shift. But based on how that jackass you couldn’t even remember the name of took it, you’d dodged a bullet. 

You’re pulling into Family Video before you know it, dread washing over you and it doesn’t help that the humid summer heat as your bare thighs sticking to your seat, it only adds to your frustration. You make no move to actually get out, but you know you can’t afford to miss a shift or risk this job so you get it over with, pulling yourself out and walking in before you say fuck it and head back home. 

Walking through the front doors you see him immediately, standing behind the counter with worry etched between his brows and a small frown on his face. He looks like a kicked puppy, staring you down as if you’ve wronged him. 

“You’re late.” 

You stiffen, spine straightening at his words and a string of curses are on the tip of your tongue, ready to lash out at him because how dare he. But before you get the chance he’s speaking again, effectively cutting off the tyrade you had going on your head. 

“And that’s fine, totally fine! You’re just never late so I was worried, but then again I know today’s Friday so I wasn’t sure if you’d be showing up at all…I didn’t get the chance to tell you the other day I’d already told Robin I’d cover her shift today but I talked to the boss and if you need to go you can, I can manage one night by myself, I swear!” 

You didn’t answer him, walking past and heading to the break room to hang up your things and try and mentally prepare for what was sure to be the longest shift of your life. The only thing you had going for you was that it was a Friday night, so hopefully you’d be busy and not have time to stress over being stuck with Steve. 

When you come back out he’s standing in the same spot you left him, staring around like a lost little kid waiting for someone to give him direction. Well you won't be doing it tonight. Wordlessly you take a seat on the stool, trying your best to ignore his stare burning into the side of your face. You’d snap at him if you didn’t think you’d have a meltdown. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? I know you said tonight was the only night that would work for your date and I swear to you I can handle it. The place’ll still be standing tomorrow.” 

Maybe you should go. You could go home and lay in your bed and wallow some more, eat some ice cream and try and forget the past week had ever happened. But you couldn’t. You needed the money and you certainly weren’t gonna hide from Steve when he’s the one that fucked up. So with all the courage you can muster you turn to him, doing your best to give a blank face so he can’t see the hurt brewing behind your eyes. 

“No, Harrington. I don’t go on dates, remember?” 

            **************************************

Steve watches you turn away from him and fuck, okay he deserved that. He was a major asshole who had spent the last 3 days trying and failing to figure out how to get you to forgive him. 

Then you walk in looking so pretty that for a second he forgets that you’re mad at him, that he had fucked up. But then he sees your eyes and they look sad, detached and that kills him all over again. 

If he thought you might have disliked him before then he had no idea how good he had it! He’d give anything for you to smirk at him, to call him an idiot or to roll your eyes and pretend like you didn’t care when he rambled on, even though he could tell you did care, your eyes always gave you away. 

“Can I please just—”

“No.”

“Please, I’m begging for you to just—”

“No, Steve.” 

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Goddamnit please just let me at least try and explain myself a little bit. I know I don’t deserve it but I hurt you and I never, ever wanted to do that. Please. 5 minutes, honey. Please.” 

He thinks he’s shocked you, eyes widening the tiniest bit before you shrug at him, casting a quick look his way before you turn back around and face away from him. 

“I’m listening.” 

Doing your best to ignore the fact that he just called you honey, he’s never done that, you turn to him and shrug, trying to act indifferent but on the inside you’re dying to know what he has to say. You want to know what he really thinks even though it goes against everything you’ve ever thought or stood for. 

Jesus Christ you were the pathetic one, hoping for the reassurance of King Steve. Highschool you would absolutely kick your ass if she could see you now. 

“I’m not…good at sorting my thoughts, especially around you and the shit I said the other day came out so wrong, so not how I meant it and I just—fuck I’m sorry. I never want you to be sad or hurt because of me…or anything at all,” He didn’t even know how to properly say anything without it coming out that he just liked you so much it made him a fool! “I was not trying to suggest people didn’t want to take you out, that came out all wrong. I’m sure there’s a line of people just waiting for you to give them a chance,” I would know, I’m front and center. “But I was just surprised because I hadn’t ever heard you talk about going on dates so I guess I just assumed…I don’t know. I’m an idiot who was also maybe just a little jealous and fuck it’s not even my business what you do! The point is that I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings, it was never my intention.” 

It had been a few minutes with neither of you saying anything, the store empty and only the buzz of the crappy ac could be heard around you as he waited for you to say something, anything. 

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? I’ll do it, I swear. I hate you being upset with me, it fuckin’ sucks.” He couldn’t help it, his skin was crawling the longer you stayed quiet and he thinks he’d do anything to get you to not look so sad. 

He hears a small huff from you and if he was looking he’d have seen it was a small laugh of disbelief. “I may be mean but I’m not cruel, Harrington. I wouldn’t make you get on your knees on this floor.” 

Relief flooded through him and despite the humidity swirling around in the air he swore he felt cooler, lighter than he did before. “Does this mean I’m off your shit list then?” 

Your laugh was loud this time and he felt his chest swell with pride that he had been the one to cause it, even if he hadn’t meant to. 

“What makes you so sure I have a shit list?” 

“Oh come on, you definitely do.” Things felt somewhat normal again and it eased the ache in his chest that had lived there for 3 long days. Maybe this whole thing would make you guys even closer, actually make you friends. 

“Alright, maybe I do. And you’re definitely on it, but not because of what happened,” He found himself smiling at you and if he looked close enough he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on your lips before you wiped it away with the back of your hand, “but about the other day, I…you did hurt my feelings. I know, it’s shocking I have them but every once in a while I’m reminded I’m just like the rest of you, unfortunately. Look, I’ve worked with you a while and you’re sweet, Steve. You’re a good guy and when you were saying those things…I know you didn’t mean it the way it came out, but it made me feel..fuck I hate this shit. It made me feel like you thought I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough or some shit like that and it just…it fucked with me, okay? But I know you’d never be cruel like that so I forgive you. We’ll forget this happened so I don’t have to talk about my feelings anymore and we’ll be good. We are good. Fuck I’ll even admit we’re friends if we can not talk about this ever again.” 

“You think I don’t think you’re pretty or good enough?” That was all his brain could think of. How the fuck could you think that? Had he not been obvious? He all but drooled over you every time you were in his line of sight. 

“Really, Steve? That’s all you got! I just said we were friends. I'd thought you’d be over the moon.” Your eyes were looking everywhere but him and he knew you were trying to deflect. You’d just been vulnerable with him and he should move on but he couldn’t stomach you thinking you weren’t good enough or pretty enough, let alone thinking that he thought those things! 

“Honey, I’d be lucky even if you even gave me a second glance. Good enough? You’re too good for me and every other sorry prick in this town. I fuckin’ swear it. I was caught off guard and jealous. Jealous that someone else had gotten you to give them the time of day!” You looked stunned but he kept going, “And I can give you all the dirty details about how pretty you are. How I spend all day practically getting paid to stare at you, what a job! How I’ve memorized every little detail of your pretty face, how I stare a little too long when you’re bent over in front of me. Or how I think about your cute little mouth wrapped around that blow pop and wish it was my—”

“Steve Harrington!” You’d slapped your palm over his mouth to shut him up and if he wasn’t enjoying how squirmy you suddenly were he’d nip at your palm to make you jump. It was nice seeing you all red faced and hot because of him for a change, even though he loved it when it was the other way around. 

Maybe he’d said too much, let his filter slip a little too far but he wanted—no needed for you to know how perfect you were. Not just to him but to anyone with common sense. 

Pulling your palm away he opened his mouth but you shot him a glare as he did, as if you could sense he was going to do it. He watched as you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and cleared your throat bringing your weary eyes to meet his. 

“Smacking me around now?” He was a little shit, he knew it but he was sure you liked it anyway. 

“You love it.” And shit, you’d got him there. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him with a smile on his face and his heart happy. But just because he’d made you feel better didn’t mean the hurt just went away and he’d do whatever it took to fix it. 

“Caught me,” He threw you a wink that you ignored, rolling your eyes at him, “but seriously, there’s not one thing wrong with you and I’m sorry that I made you feel any different. I’m a dick. I’ll tell you till I’m blue in the face how pretty you are if that’s what it takes.” 

“Oh no, I’ve heard plenty, you perv. Now I know why you’re so quiet when I’m reorganizing the bottom shelves, you’re staring at my ass!” He shrugged at you sheepishly, not being near as embarrassed as he should be for admitting that. 

“But…thank you, Steve. This was just a misunderstanding that you’ve more than cleared up. We’re good, Harrington. I’m good.” And the relief he felt was seen on his face and felt throughout his body. He could’ve used the moment to be sweet, dragging out the conversation but you still looked a little uneasy about opening up to him so he thought it better to go back to territory you were comfortable with, him annoying you. 

“Oh I know we’re good! We’re friends now, remember? Don’t think I’ll ever let you forget it.” 

              *************************************

Things between you and Steve had been…good. 

There was a bit of tension between you, the kind that made your throat dry when you looked at him and your thighs clench when he whispered something in your ear if customers were around and he didn’t want them to hear. Maybe it was from the things he admitted or maybe it was because you were suddenly much more aware of Steve. 

You’d had your talk, if you could call it that, a few weeks ago and the time you’ve spent together since then had been mostly normal. Steve, getting on your nerves, rambling about nothing for as long as you’d let him, looking at you with those pitiful puppy dog eyes when you gave him some attention. You, teasing him relentlessly, even more now than before. Covering for him less, he’d been showing up on time almost every shift you had together. Bending over in front of him more just to hear him curse and see his cheeks flush. 

And maybe kind of developing a crush on him. 

It’s not your fault, it’s his! How were you supposed to resist him after he said he’d be lucky to go out with you, after he told you he’d been jealous someone else was, after he told you how pretty you were and how he thought about your mouth wrapped around his—

Fuck—no, you were not going down that road again. Every time you thought about what he said, how genuine and needy he seemed when he talked about you, your head got all fuzzy and your knees threatened to give out. It was all you could do not to pounce on him the second the words left his mouth. 

So yeah, you had a big fat crush on Steve Harrington. 

He’d also taken your comment about being friends to heart, bringing it up every chance he got and using it as an excuse for the two of you to spend even more time together. You’d walk in Family Video and he’d flash you that smile, opening his arms for a hug you pretended to hate but in reality looked forward to every day. 

“Hello, friend.” 

“As your friend I have to tell you how pretty you look today.” 

“C’mon friend, come to this party with me. It’ll be lame without you.” 

You’d threatened to revoke his “friend” privileges and he’d gasped, clutching his chest dramatically and pretending to stumble to the floor. It took everything in you not to giggle at his antics. You were quickly becoming obsessed with Steve, and even more obsessed with how quick you could get him to turn into a puddle at your feet. 

That was how you find yourself here at the Hawkins public pool with your bag strap digging uncomfortably into your shoulder and sweat dripping down your back, wearing what you’d bet was a grimace as you walked around the scattered chairs looking for Steve. 

One thing that remained constant and strong was the mid summer heat that took your breath away and put you in a less than pleasant mood most of the time. Poor Steve got the brunt of your frustration but he never complained. And that’s why you finally agreed to come to the pool with him, because he was sweet and patient and adorable, even when he was annoying the shit out of you. 

What you didn’t account for was the added heat you’d endure from seeing Steve shirtless before you, arms crossed over his chest and pale pink swim trunks sitting on his hips. 

When did Steve Harrington get chest hair and why was your mouth watering over it? It made him look sexy, older in a way that erased all boyish features you’d come to love. He looked…fuck he looked hot. His hair was slicked back and you knew he’d already gotten in, too impatient to wait for the 10 minutes longer it had taken you to get here. He had a trail of hair on his lower belly that ran down under the band of his swim trunks and you think you might have actually let out a whimper at the sight. 

You took a step toward him and cursed yourself when your legs wobbled a little bit. If he saw it he didn’t say anything, righting yourself quickly and making your way over so you could toss your bag into his waiting arms, trying not to look at the patch of chest hair just inches from your face and failing miserably. 

“My own personal pool boy, a girl could get used to this.” 

It didn’t take long to figure out that the easiest and quickest way to get yourself together was to turn it on him, to make his hands twitch and his stomach clench and to tease him until he was panting like a puppy. 

“At your service, ma’am.” 

Grabbing your arm he tugged you to the chairs he’d saved for the two of you, a cooler sitting between them with the lunch he’d made for the both of you. It makes your heart skip a beat and your tummy flutters. Your sweet Stevie. 

He sat your bag down between the chairs, laying back so his arms were stretched back and crossed behind his head, a twinge in your stomach tightening as you watched him stretch out before you. A fucking Greek god. You needed to even the playing field and you needed to do it now. 

Grabbing the sunscreen from your bag you put on the sweetest smile you could conjure while your body screamed at you to straddle his thighs and kiss him dumb. “Stevie, can you help me out with this?” He nodded without thought, that’s just how kind he was, sitting up to grab the bottle from your hands. 

Before he could make a move to get up you knocked his legs apart, pushing yourself down and back so that you were wedged between his thighs, your back almost completely pressed against his front. 

He cursed behind you, trying to scoot back but your hands dug into his thighs to keep him there, a silent plea. You’re sure if you could see his face he’d look almost pained at the feeling of your skin pressed to his. 

You heard him flip the cap open and squeeze some sunscreen in his hand, neither of you saying anything for a moment before he leaned forward, his lips almost touching the shell of your ear when he spoke, “s’gonna be cold.” You nodded wordlessly and straightened up a little, pushing back further into him. 

“Fuck.” You didn’t mean for it to slip out and hoped you could blame it on the cold lotion hitting your back, but you knew that was a lie. Steve’s big, calloused hands on your shoulders and back had you holding back whines and moans threatening to climb up your throat. Jesus Christ this felt good, too good. 

Any composure you had left flew out the window at his next move and you were quickly falling behind in the one sided game you’d started with him. 

You felt his hands move down lower to where the string of your bikini tied in the back, your thighs clenching hard when he slid them toward the front, following the line of your top and just barely slipping under the cup of your breast to tease the skin there before he was pulling back and going to your shoulders again. 

Holy fuck. 

He tensed behind you when your fingers dug harder into his thighs, but you didn’t even mean to. It was just a knee jerk reaction to his fingers gliding over the underside of your boob for Christ's sake. It wasn’t until you leaned back just a little, totally innocent you were just readjusting, that you felt it. 

Steve was hard. His swimsuit did a shit job of concealing it. And he was pressed up against you so tightly you could feel him throb against your lower back when you gasped. This was your opportunity to one up him, to move ahead a few spaces. 

Head turning to the side just slightly so he was in your peripheral, you needed to make sure he was looking and listening. You spoke as if you weren’t dripping wet yourself, thighs sore from how hard you’d been squeezing them together. 

“Poor baby, touching my shoulders and grazing a pair of tits has you all needy, huh?” 

He whined low in his throat, leaning forward to press his forehead against your back. You could feel little puffs of air against your skin as he tried to compose himself, not that you’d let him. 

“Stop. Don’t be mean.” The words were whispered against your skin and you smiled. 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I’m mean. Gets you hard, doesn't it, when I tease you?” You were being mean, so mean, but if the way he subtly tried to buck up against you was indication of how he felt, he loved it. 

You kept going, basking in the feeling of his hands grilling your hips tight and his breathing against your back was getting faster the more you talked. 

“You really are like a puppy. It’s just so fucking cute how whiny you get when you’re like this.” 

Both of you stilled when a whimper slipped out a little too loud and all of a sudden you remembered where you were, a fucking public pool. Steve must have realized too because he pulled back, scooting far enough away that you weren’t touching anymore and you hated how you already missed the feel of his skin on yours. 

Clearing your throat you shuffled over to the other chair, glancing at Steve to see his mouth shut and eyes looking anywhere but you. Maybe you’d gone too far. You opened your mouth to apologize but before you could he was up and tugging you to the edge of the pool, jumping in and practically dragging you in with him. 

The cool water actually did a good job of cooling you down, physically and mentally. When you broke the surface, gasping for air, Steve was already there looking at you. You couldn’t read the look on his face, couldn’t tell if he was upset with you so you bit the bullet. 

“M’sorry if I went too far, Steve. It’s just…you were…the sunscreen—you were making me feel crazy so I wanted to even it up. I shouldn’t have done that though, especially not here. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

For the first time since you came up from the water he broke his stare, opting to look around you before he came closer, pulling you in so no one would hear your conversation. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not. I only pulled away because I was seconds from cumming in my shorts like a teenage boy and I was embarrassed.” 

Lips pulling into a smile you covered your mouth and he pouted at you, huffing like a child when he saw you trying not to laugh at him. “No need to be embarrassed, Stevie. You can’t help that you’re a needy little thing.” 

His hand swatted at yours that had come up to pinch his cheeks and you cooed at him to tease him further. “So mean.” He tried to look annoyed but failed and it made your stomach dip at how pretty he looked, drops of water falling off his lashes, lashes you and every girl in Hawkins would kill for. 

“You really are pretty, Harrington.” The tips of his ears burned bright red and he moved toward you instinctively, like he wanted to kiss you. God did you want to kiss him. But you didn’t want to do it in a public place where you wouldn’t be able to make a mess of him after so you pulled back and splashed some water in his face with a giggle. 

“C’mon big boy, let’s swim! I didn't come all this way just to stare at your cute face.” 

Although you wouldn’t mind it. 

          *******************************************

The next few weeks are quiet, work goes by painfully slow when you’re not with Steve and you hate it. Your shifts with Steve are filled with teasing touches and flushed cheeks and very little work. 

You’ve also been spending a good chunk of the time you’re not at work with Steve as well. He somehow almost always convinces you to come over to watch a movie or go with him for a late night ice cream run. You find yourself in his car or playing with his hair while you lay in your bed more often than not. 

And you love it. 

Trying to act like you weren’t obsessed with him was exhausting so you mostly gave it up. You’d smile at him more, laugh at his jokes more freely, and have become much more touchy with him. 

Neither of you could seem to keep your hands off each other if you were in the same room. He always had to have a hand on your hip or one holding your thigh and you couldn’t keep your fingers from rubbing at his neck or slipping through his hair if he was close. 

There hadn’t been a conversation about what was happening, but neither of you seemed to mind. You think that you’d become best friends who were just crazy about each other and that was enough for both of you. 

Until it wasn’t. 

If you were being fair, you knew that technically you and Steve hadn’t officially become exclusive or anything. The two of you probably weren’t even dating, even though you spent all your time together. Cuddling and teasing constantly. 

But you weren’t fair. Everyone who spent any amount of time in a public setting knew that you and Steve were, for lack of a better word, an item. If someone saw you at the grocery store or at the post office, or anywhere, it was a safe bet that Steve was two paces behind you if he wasn’t already at your hip. 

This was common knowledge. Or at least you thought it was. So it’s a surprise, a bad one at that, when you come back from your break with a smile on your face that is quickly wiped away when you see some blonde you went to school with hanging over the counter with her tits pushed at Steve, a devious smile on her face as she bats her eyelashes at him. 

All the blood rushes from your body and you’re not sure you can even keep down the sandwich you’d had for lunch. A sandwich that Steve had made for you, might you add. There’s a horrible twist in your belly and you’ve never felt such rage as you have looking at the way she toys with the collar of his shirt between her fingers and at the way he gives her a small smile and doesn’t pull away. 

You were jealous. So jealous it took the breath right out of you and made your brain go blank. One minute you’re standing there with your skin hot and heart pounding and the next you’re sliding back into your seat beside Steve with a glare so sharp it could cut glass. 

“Need help with anything or are you just gonna keep groping the staff?” If your glare was sharp your words were sharper, serious and stern and directed at the girl who was still touching Steve, your Steve. 

Both the girl and Steve’s eyes widen at your tone. She finally takes a step back and you feel like you can breathe again. You see the way Steve’s staring at you but you don’t look at him, you can’t or you might do something crazy like hit this girl, or even worse, cry. 

Once the initial embarrassment from your words wears off she straightens her back and narrows her eyes in your direction. “I think we had it handled, sweetie. Your coworker here,” You flinch at the way she emphasizes coworker and feel yourself shrink a little, “was just giving me some movie recommendations. But thanks for the offer.” 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” The words taste bitter on your tongue and you want to slap the smirk off her face so bad your palm twitches. Steve is quiet beside you and you can’t even begin to process how that adds to your fury, to the pain that’s bubbling up beneath your skin and threatening to spill out. 

You’ve taken one, maybe two steps away from the counter, ready to go back to the bathroom of shame and cry again over Steve fucking Harrington when a hand on your wrist stops you. 

The same hand, the one that belongs to the boy you’ve become enamored with, tugs you gently back to his side, hand leaving you for just a second so he can wrap his arm around your waist and tug you into his side. Your hips are touching and you feel a wave of relief wash over you, the pain and anger dissolving while his hand grips you tightly against him. 

A sick satisfaction runs through you as you watch the way her jaw clenches and her eyes dim as his arm curls around you. Coworker my ass. Steve clears his throat beside you, catching yours and her attention, “I’m afraid I’m all out of recommendations for you, but maybe my coworker here has some for you.” Before she can even think about speaking you cut her off with a faux pout, “I don’t think I do, sorry!” 

Deciding Steve isn’t worth the battle you’re more than willing to start, what an idiot, she turns around and pretends to look through the new releases for all of five seconds before she’s scurrying out of the store and leaving you both alone again. 

Steve gives one last squeeze to your hip before he moves to sit back down, the reality of your little outburst smacking you in the face. Well, this is awkward. You sit down on your stool, tapping your hands on the counter while you try and gather the courage to look at him. 

You hope he’s not upset with you and if he is well…fuck him! Just because you haven’t said it out loud doesn’t mean he’s not yours. You know for a fact if he caught you flirting with a guy he’d be pissed! All whiny and pouty and pawing at you for attention. So you were justified in being upset, totally and fully justified. 

Now you’ve worked yourself up to tell him off and give him a piece of your mind, and you turn to him to do just that when it all slips away in an instant. Because Steve isn’t upset, no, he’s staring at you with wide, bright eyes and a smirk so big and knowing you curse yourself in your head. 

Oh this is even worse! Now you’ve given him a big head, bigger than he already had! 

“So that was…interesting.” You can hear the amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. You much prefer him all pathetic and whiny over this…cocky Steve. But really you don’t mind this either. 

“Shut it, Harrington.” You think if you weren’t so obsessed with him you’d have the decency to be even a little embarrassed at how you acted but you aren’t! You practically marked your territory in front of her and you can’t find it in you to care or regret it. 

“You were jealous. Over me! I’ll never shut up about this! I’m taking a spot in the paper for this, alerting the press as we speak!” His bottom lip between his teeth and he looked giddy like it was Christmas morning and he’d gotten the brand new shiny bicycle he’d spent all year wishing for. 

You could have denied it, but what was the point in that? Everyone already knew anyway how you felt, you weren’t exactly subtle about it. Might as well embrace it at this point. 

“And so what if I was? Figure you’re mine anyways, right?” Your cheeks tint the lightest shade of pink as you watch him take in your words, his eyes a little wide and a small shy smile on his lips. 

“I am?” 

God okay, maybe you hadn’t been as obvious as you thought the last months. 

“Well…I thought so. You take up all my time anyways, Harrington, might as well. Plus I like you—well a lot. I’m yours too, ya know. If you want I guess, I don’t know, I thought this was just unspoken between us and now you’re making me nervous!” 

His lips parted in what could either be shock or awe, you weren’t sure. He didn’t look appalled at the idea so that was a good sign, right? 

“I’m sorry I just…sometimes I’m not even sure you like me all that much so I’m just a little shocked but yes! Fuck—yes I’ll be whatever you want.” 

Maybe he was a little dumb or maybe you weren’t as good at showing your feelings as you thought but either way you’d make sure he felt wanted, needed by you. 

“Steve, if I didn’t like you I promise I would not be spending all my time with you. I’m mean sometimes because you like it and I like seeing you all messy and cute. M’kinda obsessed with you, you idiot.”

His grin widened, dimples popping out and your heart sped up at the sight. He was pretty, so pretty and despite how you acted sometimes you felt so lucky that he even wanted to spend any time with you, let alone all of it. Steve Harrington had wiggled his way deep into your heart and your brain and you think your life would be dull without him. 

“I’d ask you to pinch me but I know you’ll make it hurt,” Your hand reached out automatically towards his thigh and he swatted you away with an eye roll, “I’m obsessed with you too, have been for months. Since the first day you started actually. Want you to be my girl, wanna be yours too.” 

Leaning forward you pressed a quick peck to the corner of his mouth and you felt his head turn, trying to catch your lips. He wouldn’t get off the hook that easily, it took no effort to remember how it felt to see that girl's hands all over him. Even if it wasn’t his fault you don’t think he’d mind paying for it anyways. Add on the cocky grin he had earlier when he realized you were jealous and all of a sudden you had big plans for Steve Harrington, plans that made your thighs clench and had you pulsing around nothing. 

You cooed at him, pulling back just in time to see his brows furrowed and a cute little pout working its way on his lips. He had no idea what was coming to him and you couldn’t want to see how sorry he would be. 

“Patience is key, baby.” 

          *****************************************

It was a week later when it all clicked for Steve. 

A week of teasing touches and sneaky glances his way, even when people were looking. You’d leave a kiss on his cheek or the corner of his mouth or on the side of his neck right right under his ear. He was going crazy, body leaning forward subconsciously anytime you were near him. 

You’ve barely let him touch you and at first he was worried but you’d whisper in his ear about “payback” for making you jealous and while he was nervous, now he was just excited. And impatient, wanting and begging for you to just do it already. He couldn’t take much more teasing, his cock had been aching for what felt like forever and no matter how many times he found himself in bed, stroking himself to the thought of you, it wouldn’t ever be enough. 

He thinks you’ve finally decided to put him out of his misery, calling him earlier to ask if you could come over, that you had a special surprise that was just for him. He’d agreed without hesitation, telling you to come over whenever you wanted and that he’d be waiting for you. His parents weren’t around this weekend so he didn’t have to worry about them and he was thanking god for that. 

It had been 4 hours and 37 minutes since you called, not that he’d been counting, when he heard a knock at his door that had him all but jumping over the couch and sprinting for the front door. He practically ripped it open, grinning wide as he took you in with dreamy eyes and his stomach twisted in knots. 

You were wearing a sundress that reached about mid thigh and he had to hold himself upright with the door at the sight of your bare legs, tan and smooth and fuck he just needed to bite at the skin between your thighs. The dress had little strawberries printed all over and he’d bet money that you tasted just as sweet as the fruit. His mouth watered at the sight of your full lips all glossy with whatever you’d put on them and it took everything in him not to lean forward and suck your bottom lip into his mouth. 

He didn’t realize he had been standing there just staring until you cleared your throat, a knowing smirk on your lips as he shook his head to clear him from the daze you’d put him in. “S’pretty, you’re so pretty.” His voice was quiet and he wasn’t sure if he meant for you to hear or if he was just talking to himself. 

“Thank you, handsome. Can I come in or do I need to stand on the porch with you eye-fucking me all night?” He doesn’t think he’d ever get used to your crassness, even though he wasn’t complaining about it. He loved that you spoke your mind, no matter how dirty, and hoped what one day he’d be comfortable doing that too. 

“Right, right, yes come in,” Pulling the door open he stepped to the side so you could come in, knees wobbling when he caught a whiff of your perfume as you passed, “Are you hungry? I can…order something. I don’t have much to cool but maybe I could run to the store real quick?” 

He heard your muffled giggle as you walked through the house in front of him, hips swaying as you walked and he felt his cock twitch in his pants just looking at you. 

“Just hungry for you, Stevie.” 

You were teasing, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure you weren’t serious by the way you eyed him over your shoulder like he was your prey. And fuck did he want to be. He’d crawl around on the floor if you asked. 

By the time he followed your trail and made it through the living room you were at the foot of the stairs, lip between your teeth and hands together behind your back all innocent. You both knew better than to believe that. 

“Can I see your room?” Fuck this was happening. He nodded at you, grabbing your small hand with his and relishing in the way it felt to hold you. He led you up the stairs and was careful not to go too fast, to seem too eager. He knows you’d tease him for being so excited but based on the look in your eyes he thought that maybe you were pretty excited too. 

Pushing his door open he watched as you took in his room, eyes light as you scanned over the posters he’d hung haphazardly, some artwork the kids had drawn for him hanging above his desk. His bed was unmade and he cursed himself, as if you’d care. 

“Looks exactly how I pictured it.” 

“You pictured my room?” 

“Maybe.” 

He stood still, leaning up against the door he’d closed and locked behind him as you made your way around, lifting up papers and magazines, humming quietly to yourself. You must have been a witch or something the way he’d become so entranced with you, following your every move like he wasn’t meant to do anything else.

So when you turn around to face him quickly, he’s startled, eyes shooting up to meet yours like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. 

“Alright then, on the bed.” 

The flurry of questions he has does little to deter him as he scrambles past you and pushes on the bed a little too quickly. He falls forward face first and hears you snicker behind him. He’s not sure where you want him so he hopes he’s right. He scoots back, flush against the wall, the headboard on his left and foot of the bed on his right. 

“You want this, Harrington? I’m not misreading anything, right?” 

He’s shaking his head furiously, eyes wide and mouth closed as he watches for your next move. 

“Oh now you have nothing to say? Months of knowing you and you’re hardly ever quiet. Use your words, big boy.” 

“Y-yes, I want this. Whatever you want.” 

The smile you reward him with makes his chest ache and the blood rush through him so fast he can hear it pounding in his ears. He thinks he wants you looking like that all the time, proud and pleased with him. 

“Good! It’s time for payback then.” 

        **********************************************

You really really hoped your nerves didn’t show on your face as you stood in front of Steve. You don’t think he’d notice even if they did, eyes glazed over as he waited for whatever you had planned. 

Now at this point you were over the whole jealousy thing from last week, really you were! But you played into it a little extra just so you could be mean to him right now. Although with the plans you had, you’d be being mean to him and yourself. 

Wordlessly you reached down, fingers toying with the hem of your dress and you watched as Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, throat bobbing slightly as you lifted it a few inches before letting it drop back down. 

This only lasted for a few minutes before you’d had enough, gripping your dress and almost ripping it over your head and letting it drop to your feet. What you hadn’t mentioned was that you had nothing underneath it, absolutely nothing. 

Steve drank you in, slack jawed with his eyes almost bugging out of his head when he moved from your face to your tits, staring at your already hard nipples that you would blame on the coolness in his room. His eyes moved down further and he groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made your clit throb under his stare. 

Was that some drool leaking down to his chin? 

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

“Can I?” You don’t think he even realized the words left his mouth and you fought the urge to laugh at how out of it he seemed already. 

“Not tonight, baby.” 

His hands fisted the sheets below him as the pet name slipped past your lips and you smiled sweetly at him. Pointing to the headboard you directed him with a quiet voice, “I’m gonna sit there,” moving your hand to point toward the foot of his bed he followed your finger eagerly, “and you’re gonna sit there, facing me.” 

He obeyed instantly, shuffling toward where’d you directed him while you climbed onto the bed and and situated yourself against his headboard with your legs stretched out in front of you. 

“Can I have your shirt?” It wasn’t anything special, a plain white t-shirt that hugged him beautifully, but you wanted it all the same. To have his smell surrounding you, covering you in him. He peeled it off so he was left in a pair of jeans that stuck to him in all the right places. Unsure of what to do he tossed it to you and you wasted no time in slipping it over your bare frame, pleased that it bunched at your hips just how you’d hoped.

You could see the disappointment in his face at the extra layer you’d added and you itched to lean forward and pinch his flushed cheeks in adoration. He was just so adorable it made you crazy. With everyone else he was strong and stern, the babysitter and protector and king of Hawkins.

But with you…with you he was soft and sweet, pliable in your hands like putty and you ate up every second of it. 

           ****************************************

Steve thinks he might have gone to heaven, you sitting across from him in nothing but his shirt with your thighs on display. 

His chest feels hot despite the cool air hitting his skin and he thinks if he doesn’t get his hands on you in the next three seconds something horrible might happen. You're giving him that teasing smile that makes his tummy clench and sends excitement zipping down his spine. 

He still can’t believe you like him, that you’re obsessed with him. It’s like a dream come true and he thinks he’s pinched himself at least 17 times in the last week. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you call his name softly, head snapping up to meet yours and he feels dizzy all over again from how pretty you look. 

“You’re gonna watch me, okay? No touching me or yourself until I say.” Wait—what? He gives you a nod and tries not to let his disappointment show in his face, and he knows he fails based on the way you smile and shake your head at him. 

But any disappointment he had is gone in a flash when you lean back and spread your legs to give him a glimpse at just how much you like him. He might black out, he’s not sure. You’re glistening for him, a little bit of slick on your thighs and suddenly he’s starved. He audibly groans at the sight of you on display for him. 

“She’s pretty—fuck so pretty.” He’s talking more to himself than you but he sees the way you twitch at him referring to your pussy as “her” and it makes him smile shyly, still not moving his eyes from where you’re dripping on his bed. 

He watches closely as your hand trails down, rubbing over your thighs for just a second before you’re taking two fingers and spreading yourself open for him, both of you too impatient to drag this out too long. Before he can stop himself he’s moving forward, going to his knees and crawling across his bed that feels far too big all of a sudden. He doesn’t realize he’s moved until your legs are closed and one foot is pressed against his bare chest, stopping him from getting any closer. 

One hand is holding him up and the other is holding onto your ankle as he pleads with his eyes for you to let him closer, just a taste, he just needs one little taste. 

“We’ve just started and you’re already breaking the rules?” The faux disappointment in your tone makes him pout, leaning down to press a small kiss against your calf and he hears you chuckle at his attempt at distracting you. 

“M’sorry, baby, you’re just so pretty, she’s so pretty. Let me have a taste, please? I’ll be good after that, I swear. Just one taste, honey.” 

He watches in anticipation, hope is swelling in his chest as you study him and he can see the contemplation in your eyes as you take him in. He’s so close he can smell you and it lights his whole body up, cock so hard pressed up against his jeans he could cry. 

“Hmm, no,” He hears the whine he makes but can’t be bothered to care, “what fun is payback if I give in before I’ve even touched myself! You can be patient, I know you can.” You have much more faith in him than he has in himself, body slumping in defeat before he’s moving back to where you directed him the first time. 

“Can I at least take these jeans off? It hurts, baby.” 

“Fine, but the boxers stay on, sneaky.” It takes him no time before he’s peeling his jeans off, sighing in relief when some of the pressure is released and he feels like he can breathe again. 

Well he can breathe until you’re spreading your legs again, fingers slipping back down to tease at your clit as your eyes stay locked on him. His chest is tightening as he watches you. Watching the way your legs spread wider when you notice him fisting the sheets beside him. Watching the way your head falls back against his headboard when you move down to circle your messy hole, a moan so lewd coming from your mouth he feels a bead of precum drip down his cock. 

Jesus Christ, he couldn’t decide if this was heaven or hell but he’s sure that either way he’d gladly spend an eternity here. 

He’s torn between watching your face or watching your fingers in your cunt, eyes flickering between the two every few seconds so he didn’t miss something important. He remembers how you compare him to a puppy and he’s sure he’s never looked more like one than he does right now. He’s practically panting across from you and you’re the treat that would be making his tail wag—if he had one. 

“Feels so good, Stevie. This is how wet I get just from thinking about you, ya know? Always have me messy and ready for you.” 

“Please let me touch you. Fuck—please, sweetheart. Need it so bad, need you so bad. I’ll be good, I swear. Never make you jealous again. God I swear I’ll do anything.” 

He knew you were getting close, thighs threatening to close on your hand and hips lifting from the bed eagerly. He could see it on your face too—you wanted to deny him, to torture him some more but he could see you giving in. 

“You beg so pretty, Harrington. Fuck, get over here. Now.” 

He didn't need to be told twice, launching himself across the bed and fitting himself between your thighs that had opened a little to accommodate his wide frame. He waited expectantly, and you smiled down at him fondly. 

“You know, you really look like a—”

“A puppy, I know. So can I have my treat then?” 

Nodding at him you swiped your fingers through your folds and held your hand out to him, fingers shiny with you and he opened his mouth quickly. His head moved forward and he took your fingers in his mouth, lapping his tongue around them greedily, determined not to waste a single drop. He hummed around them, eyes closed so he didn't see the way you were staring at him like he’d hung the moon. 

“S’good then?” You sounded breathless above him and he could only nod, not wanting to drop your fingers from his mouth just yet. God, you tasted good. He’d compare you to a nice summer treat but the truth is you’d be perfect for any season, any day. Fuck he’d stay buried between your thighs 24/7 if you’d let him. 

He finally pulled off just enough so that he could speak, “better than a blow pop.” The laugh that pulled from you made his heart warm. It was loud and genuine, shoulders shaking slightly as you grinned at him, teeth on display and everything. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, you pressing your fingers down on his tongue and even though he’d cleaned them up, the taste of you lingered and he would gladly sit here with your fingers in his mouth for hours. 

But you had other plans. 

“Need your fingers, Stevie. They’re bigger than mine and I’m already close from watching you lap at my fingers like a little greedy puppy.” His eyes fell from yours, cheeks red and ears burning as you teased him. 

“Can I use my mouth?” 

“Mhm, not today. I already gave in way too quick, you were just too cute to say no to.” He wants to pout, to protest and beg but he thinks just watching you fall apart on his fingers will be more than enough for him. 

You part your legs further as he slips down to rest his cheek against your inner thigh. His hair tickles the soft, sensitive skin there and you giggle. He moves just enough to press a quick, open mouthed kiss and dreams about the marks he hopes you’ll let him leave there one day. 

With a nod from you he moves his eyes to your cunt, swollen and dripping, and runs his fingers over your clit just to feel your thigh twitch against his cheek. He wraps the hand he’s not using around your thigh, clutching it to him tightly as he eases two of his fingers into you. They slip in easily with no resistance and the feeling of your warm, hot walls snug on his fingers makes him grind his hips down into his bed. 

“Shit—she feels good, hugging my fingers so tight.” Your hips buck up against his hand, urging him in deeper and he smiles against your leg. A groan slips out of him when your hand slips down to rub slow, loose circles on your clit, head rolling back so that all you can see is his eyes peeking up at you. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so hot in his entire life. He can see the little beads of sweat rolling down your forehead and how you’re panting and whining above him, especially when he curls his fingers upward and finds that spongy spot that has your mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing shut. 

“There it is, yeah? That’s the spot?” You’re nodding quickly, fingers that were circling your clit are now sliding into his hair and gripping it tightly. The burn of it makes him moan against your thigh, the sting of your grip making his eyes roll back into his head almost. 

“D-don’t you dare stop, Harrington. M’close, so so close.” He doesn’t think there is anything that could get him to stop. Not when you’re dripping down his hand and your thighs are shaking like they are. 

The final straw is when he moves his mouth down a couple of inches, teeth scraping against the skin where your thighs almost touch and he bites down, hard enough to leave a mark. He hears the thud of your head knocking against his headboard and the curse that flies out of your mouth as you clench down on him so hard you almost push his fingers out. He works you through it, licking over the mark he just left to soothe the sting and slowing down his fingers once you start to twitch and whine from the feeling. 

It’s not until you're pushing his hand away and letting your legs slump that he takes a peek at you, a lazy smile on your face and hair sticking to your forehead where you’d been sweating. He knows there’s a widening grin on his face as he looks up at you, placing one last kiss before he’s sitting himself up so his legs are under yours and his hands are resting on the tops of your thighs. 

“If that’s what you call payback then remind me to piss you off more often!” 

You roll your eyes, letting your body fall back against his headboard, “Don’t get smart with me now, Harrington. Not when I’m about to make you cum. I would hate to change my mind.” 

His ears perk up and honestly he hadn’t even thought about himself since he’d gotten between your thighs, content with watching you squirm and moan around his fingers. But he wasn’t gonna turn you down, hell no! Just the thought of you anywhere near his cock had him twitching in his boxers. 

He closed his mouth, fingers coming up to mimic zipping a zipper of his lips and tossing the non existent key far behind him. You smirked at him, hand coming close to pat his cheek, almost like you’d pet his head. 

“Good boy, now turn around and take those boxers off, please.” 

          ********************************************

Holy shit. You didn’t think you'd ever cum so hard in your life. You swear you might have actually seen stars for a minute there when he curled his fingers just right. And when he bit you? How the hell did he know you had a thing for biting. 

Keeping him at arm's length had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do, especially when he was looking at you like you were a five course meal in front of him. He’d practically been salivating at the sight of you and it took everything in you not to give into him immediately. 

But now that you’d cum, all you could think about was him. About finally getting your hand on his cock and listening to the way he’d gasp and whine with your hand around him. Just the thought was enough to send another wave of arousal and need over you, your toes curling and fingers digging into his bed. 

He still hadn’t moved in front of you and you cocked your head at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly had that sad pout on his lips. “What’s the matter?”

His cheeks were red and he looked almost embarrassed as he tried to avoid eye contact with you and you worried you’d done something to upset him. Maybe this wasn’t as good for him, maybe he didn’t like you teasing him? 

“S’just…you haven’t kissed me and I just—I wanna kiss you so bad but I didn’t know if there was a reason you hadn’t or maybe you just didn’t want to or—”

You cut him off, gripping his shoulders and pushing your lips against his that were swollen and slick with spit. He moaned against you, sighing and relaxing in your hold. Fuck—how had you not kissed him yet? 

His tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you heard the little whine he let out when you didn’t let him in, laughing against his lips. He took the opportunity to move closer, hands moving to fist at your hair and you felt lightheaded from how good he felt, how sweet he tasted. 

When you needed to breathe you regretfully pulled back, foreheads touching and noses bumping into one another as you both took big, greedy gulps of air. His eyes almost sparkled as he looked at you, a shy smirk on both your mouths. 

“Better?”

“Perfect.” It was hard to ignore the way your heart thumped against your rib cage like it was trying to fight its way out. He was perfect. Everything about him and the way he carried himself drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Your mind was consumed with all things Steve. 

And while you wanted to be mushy and sweet with him, one glance down between you had your mouth watering and fingers twitching at your sides. There was a dark wet patch on his blue boxers and the outline of his cock was prominent. You think you know why he was so cocky in high school now, he definitely had the goods to back it up. 

“Kiss me whenever you want but if you don’t get your boxers off in the next 5 seconds I might do something crazy.” 

Your words snapped him out of his post kiss haze and you laughed softly as he scrambled off the bed to pull his boxers down his legs and practically kick them across the room. You gulped at the sight of him, of his pretty and thick cock already leaking and shiny for you. You motioned him forward, eyes kind and soft as you spread your legs for him. 

He smiled when you patted the space in front of you and he crawled back between your legs and shuffled so that he was sitting in front of you, his back pressed to your front, the material of his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Your thighs stretched around his hips but you loved the slight burn it brought you. You laid back and brought him with you so that he was slumped against your chest, your feet hooked over his calves. 

His hands were on either one of your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh there while his arms were loose at his sides. You took the opportunity to slip your hands under his arms, hands reaching up to run over his chest, tweaking one of his nipples on your way and watching the way his cock twitched where it was resting against his lower belly. 

Steve looked like a dream, head thrown back on your shoulder, thigh thighs spread open with his pretty cock on display for you. As your hands made their way to his tummy you scratched softly, fingers sliding through the trail that started under his belly button and went down. He must have felt sensitive there because he turned his head to the side, mouth pressed against your neck as he cursed. 

“S’good, so good. Fuck, I swear anything you do feels fuckin’ perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder at his words, feeling the high of them as he spoke. 

Holding your hand out in front of him, palm up toward his face he hummed against you, not sure what you were wanting him to do, but willing to do just about anything if it meant your hand would be on his cock. 

“Spit.” 

All that was heard in the room was his quick intake of air, eyes fluttering as he leaned toward your hand. He looked back at you once, to double check that this was real or for confirmation that you really wanted him to spit in your hand, you’re not sure. But you nodded, throat bobbing as he turned back and spit, watching in awe. 

“Good boy.” 

Any strength he had left was gone at your words, head falling back to its place on your shoulder as you moved your hand down, taking hold of his cock and hearing him hiss at the contact. 

You think this might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

His cock was hot and smooth under your touch, a mix of his spit and precum making it easy to glide your hand over his shaft, letting your thumb catch on the tip and relishing in the way he gasped in your ear. 

“Such a pretty cock for a pretty boy, hmm?” The feeling of his fingers digging into your thighs only spurred you on, hand tight around him as you stroked him quickly, loving the way his tummy would clench and he’d gasp at how slick he was, how good it felt. 

You’d never seen him so needy, so pathetic as he was right now, little whines and pleas against the shell of your ear as you gripped him. He was heavy in your hand and you wondered how he’d feel on your tongue, how he’d taste when he thrusted into your mouth. You’d add that to the list of things you needed to do immediately. 

“M’sorry, sorry fuck—you’re gonna make me cum, m’gonna cum—oh shit.” He was throbbing hard against your palm, breathing even harder against your neck and you cooed at him when his hips started thrusting up in time with your strokes. 

“Without asking? I don’t think so, Stevie. You haven’t even said please!” Your hand slowed and he moved so his hand was wrapped over yours, trying to get you to go faster but you swatted him away, scolding him with a pinch to his hip. 

Taking one look at his face that was still buried in your throat, you could tell he was out of it, so fucked out you weren’t sure he could even form words, let alone beg. But that didn’t stop you from egging him on, slowing down until he was so worked up he was on the verge of tears. 

“Oh fuck—please…baby, honey, please let me cum? I’ve been so good I just..shit I need it. You feel so good, perfect girl. O-oh my god, please. Please please please.” 

He was mumbling, a mix of curses and pleas as he left sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your throat. You think you’d give him anything he wanted right now with how pretty he sounded, all pathetic and fucked out for you. 

“Go ahead, pretty boy. Cum on my hand, yeah? Make a mess of us.” Your hand sped up on his cock, feeling yourself leak into his bed as he twitched against your fingers. You kept going, kept talking as his hips got sloppy and cock was red and begging for release. 

“Don’t know how you’ll ever fit inside me, Stevie. Gonna have to prep me for days I think.” 

“Next time you’ll have to use my mouth, yeah? I hate letting your cum go to waste.” 

“Y’look so pretty like this. My sweet boy thrusting up into my hand, gonna think about this for days.”

He thrusted up one final time, hips stilling and body going tight as his orgasm took over. His cum coated your fist that was still wrapped around him, reaching his belly and even spilling down onto his thighs. He couldn’t even see the way you pouted at how much had been wasted, cursing yourself for not letting him use your mouth. 

Slumped completely against your chest he mumbled something about his legs feeling like jelly and you giggled, cheek resting against his forehead. 

“Soooo, good then?” 

It took all the energy he could muster to squeeze your thigh, head moving to the side a fraction so he could look at you, smiling so big his cheeks had to hurt. “Are you fuckin’ kidding? I think I just saw god for a second.” 

Rolling your eyes and shoving at his shoulders, butterflies danced in your stomach at how pretty he looked. His skin was flushed and glowing, hair a mess where you’d both pulled at it, lips swollen and red from biting and kissing and holding them between his teeth. He looked phenomenal. 

As much as you’d love to stay here wrapped up in him for the rest of your life, your thighs had gone numb from being stretched around his hips and your back ached from sitting back against his headboard for so long. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see him nodding off on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and little puffs of air hitting your skin. You tapped his cheeks with your clean hand, “C’mon, Stevie. Gotta clean us up and then we can go straight to bed.” 

He groaned in protest but leaned up enough so that you could slip from behind him, legs tingling when you stood on them, hobbling to the bathroom on shaky legs and flipping Steve off when you heard him chuckle from behind you. 

“Oh fuck off, Harrington.” 

          ******************************************

When Steve wakes up the next morning it’s slow and sweet, eyes blinking open and a small smile on his lips when he feels you pressed into his side. 

He looks down and tries not to laugh at your mouth hanging open, a little bit of drool on his chest from where your cheek is squished against his skin. Your hair is sticking up in every direction and he can feel your breath on him. It makes his heart grow in his chest, an overwhelming sense of joy and contentment washing over him as he stares down at you. He could get used to this, you attached to his hip and waking up to you in his bed. 

Thinking back to when you barely gave him the time of day, he smiles at your relationship now. How you’re just as needy as him, tugging on his belt loop to pull him to you if he’s not close enough for your liking, pulling his hand to your thigh in his car if he doesn’t do it first. He’s seen you use your foot to pull his chair closer to yours at work countless times, a little smile on his mouth every time. 

There’s a part of him that doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He feels that way all the time but especially when you laugh louder than you mean to, hand coming up to cover your mouth with a bashful smile. He feels it when you're humming along to a song you’d heard on the radio, head moving side to side and hips swaying to the beat in your head. He feels it when you randomly bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm and to his fingertips. 

He feels it all the time, really. 

And he loves when you're mean to him, when you tease him about staring at you too long or for getting all bashful when you do something normal like tuck your hair behind your ear or scrunch your nose. He loves that you turn him into mush. 

“Stop staring, you creep.” He’d been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice your eyes opening or how’d you had scooted closer to him, one leg coming up to tangle with his, wrapped together tightly. 

“That’s rich coming from you considering I’m gonna have to clean your drool off me.” You gasped, sitting up straight and smacking at this chest, appalled at the notion that you would ever—could ever—drool on him in your sleep. 

“Keep it up, Steve. Remember what happened the last time you pissed me off?”

As if he’d ever forget. Unfortunately for you, the idea of repeating last night, or anything like it, was hardly going to deter him from pressing your buttons in the way that only he knew how to do. Reaching out he tugged you back down to him, tucking you back into his side and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”