#why was the show called that. well whatever

[starkeysprincess]

Just imagine getting bored while season 1 backwards hat frat daddy is doing…whatever the fuck he does when he has you come over and keep him company like lifting weights and asking him to ride his abs.🤤 each little divet and curve massaging your pretty lower lips and your clit getting caught on the ridge of his belly button and him watching as you make them glisten even more with your juices coating his glowy tan skin GOODBYE.

warnings — frat!rafe, ab riding, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk

you’re huffing and complaining about why he called you to come over if he’s just working out. i could already see the smug look on his face when he puts two and two together, noticing the way you’ve been watching him as he works out, alongside the tone you’re using, one that he knows all too well. he sets his weights down, wiping the sweat of his face with his shirt before tossing it aside, and calling you over to him.

rafe's lying back on the padded bench and pulls you on top of him, his hands gliding up your thighs and under your skirt to grab your ass, squeezing, “am i boring you to death? or are you just being needy, hm?”

he pulls you forward till you're straddling his stomach, the small action making your clothed cunt rubs against his toned stomach. his hand pulls your skirt up, chuckling when his eyes set on the wet patch seeping through your lace panties. "i'll take it as being needy," rafe teases, his finger hooking into the side of the lace, pulling them to the side.

his hands grip your hips, pulling a small gasp from your throat when he drug your hips forward against his stomach, "y'know...since you're so needy, why don't you use me to make yourself feel good, yeah?"

your breath hitches, understanding what he meant the more he guided your hips. you splayed your palms onto his chest, eyes fluttering shut, rutting your hips against him. rafe watched in awe as your brows knitted in pleasure and your lips parted, small, breathy moans slipping from them each time you grind on his abs. "yeah...there you go," he praised, "such a dirty girl, so needy that she can't help but rub her pretty pussy on my abs, huh?".

"mhm," you nod pathetically, your poor puffy clit grinding against each dip and curve of his muscles. your thighs start to ache, causing your hips to slow down. rafe pulled his hat off to push his bangs back that stuck messily to his forehead before slipping the hat backwards onto your head. his hands ran up your thighs to your ass, his palm landing a harsh smack to your skin before his fingers dug into the flesh to help roll your hips faster, "c'mon, baby. don't stop; show daddy how good this is makin' you feel."

[archangeldyke-all]

I feel like (modern) sev is the type to call whatever trashy reality show ur watching stupid but then stand there and watch it 😭 she'd sooooo have opinions about everything too like she walks in and sees a new couple together and she's like "WHAT!!!!! but he's a cheater!!!!" and ur like "I thought u weren't watching 🤨"

COMPLETELY she's such a fucking grandpa omg

men and minors dni

for the first year of your relationship, sevika refuses to admit that she likes your trashy tv shows.

"sevika, please sit down, you're stressing me out standing behind me like that." you whine.

"no, no, i'm about to go in the kitchen." sevika grunts, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed as she stares at the screen. you groan.

"you've been standing there for half an hour!"

"yeah, well, i wanna see if sammi gets the note the girls wrote for her." she mutters. you cackle.

"just come sit and watch with me!"

"i'm not really watching this shit! i'm just... waiting to see if she kicks his ass."

"oh janna i hate you."

but, once you guys move in together, she starts letting herself watch with you.

"okay, why doesn't teresa like this skinny girl with the hoops?"

"she found a tell-all book about her ex-husband's dirty secrets."

"shit... oh, fuck, she flipped the fuckin' table!" sevika shouts, the popcorn flying as she points at the tv. you cackle.

by the time you're married, sevika's the one dragging you to the couch for your nightly tradition.

"babe, housewives of salt lake is on in three minutes!" sevika screams from the living room. you giggle.

"i'm just making snacks!"

"well, hurry up!"

"i'm coming, oh my god!"

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[m0llygunn]

'tis the season (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: your sweet neighbour addresses a christmas card to both you and eddie — the only issue? she's never met eddie... so how does she know his name? eddie decides that 'tis the season for all your neighbours to know his name

cw: 18+!, christmas adjacent but you don't have to celebrate, smut, oral, fingering, pinv sex, idk mentions of dying of embarrassment, friends with benefits to more (slightly ambiguous ig) an: just a quick lil thing!!! if you liked it pls tell me or i'll pass away from lack of attention wc: 2.4k+

You didn’t think twice about it — a Christmas card that your next door neighbour dropped off to your apartment, addressed to both you and Eddie. 

You should have thought twice about it — because you’ve never introduced lovely Mrs. Mabel to Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t necessarily show up to your apartment during the day time.

What you and him do… it’s more of a night time thing. You call him — sometimes he calls you — and then he drives over. Sometimes you pretend you need something fixed, sometimes it’s a jar lid that's stuck, one time it was your bedside table that was jammed — but him coming over to introduce himself to your 70 year old neighbour is highly, highly unlikely. 

So when you got the card, maybe you should have thought twice about why his name was on it — but you didn’t. You were on your way out and Mrs. Mabel had left it taped to your door. You slid it into your purse, and then when you got home, you had put it down on your countertop with the thought of opening it after putting away the few groceries you had bought.

Then you just forgot about it for the night. A candle was lit, the lights were dimmed, and Eddie was speed dialed. 

When he showed up, you were pouring drinks for the two of you in your kitchen — that’s when he saw the card. 

“Oh?” he hummed, smiling as he slid his finger along the edge of the rustic brown coloured envelope, picking it up. “What's this?”

“Oh yeah!” you remembered. “Mrs. Mabel dropped that off earlier, I forgot to open it. It's a christmas card,” you beamed. 

“Well, good thing you waited. It’s addressed for both of us,” he winked. 

You didn’t understand the wink. 

You didn’t understand why he was so smug either, and you didn’t ask, you were too distracted by the kitschy card, with drawings of cats wearing Santa hats wishing you and Eddie a ‘Meowy Christmas’ and a ‘Purrfect New Year’. 

It was only after drinks were drunk, your bedroom was visited, and Eddie said something odd, that you started to question what exactly he meant. 

His skin was still dewy where you laid your head on his chest. Both of your breaths were labored. His hand was splayed across your back, feeling extra warm. 

“So… I take it that all your neighbours know my name?” He said it like he was teasing you. You didn’t understand why, but it seemed loaded.

“No? Why would they all know your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, and you could hear the mischief in his smile. He was up to something, but your eyelids were heavy, and his hand started to rub up and down your spine, and with the way your body vibrated, you could not have cared less. Whatever he was getting at could wait. 

And it did wait — one whole week. Then you finally understood, and you really cared — because what the fuck. 

He came over earlier than usual. He hadn’t even called, he just showed up, and with flowers. Flowers. Eddie doesn’t give you flowers, he gives you orgasms. That’s what you thought this thing was between the two of you — nothing more than late night hookups. Not flowers. 

And then he dropped the bomb that he was making you dinner. Dinner. He was being so sweet, and he brought you flowers, and he was making you dinner. You can’t even remember a time where you had seen him before the sun set. Flowers. Dinner.

As he found his way through your kitchen, he made sure to get in every little touch and graze possible, even ones that were so obviously unnecessary. Like when you were washing vegetables at the sink. He pressed himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, caging you in against the sink, washing his hands in the most inconvenient position ever. It was incredibly inefficient, and it got the front of your shirt wet, but that was another thing. He peeled your shirt off you right in the kitchen. With a giggle — because this whole ordeal had left you undeniably smitten — you complained that the cotton of your shirt was cold and stuck to you, so his solution was to spin you around and lift it right up from your waist, up your chest, and over your head. 

As the fabric passed over your face, you shut your eyes, only to open them to Eddie pressing a kiss to your lips. The shirt was thrown to the floor, his hands found your cheeks, and you were walked backwards until your bum pressed to the countertop. His body pressed to yours, his belt buckle jutting in the bare skin of your belly, his shirt sticking to the lace of your bra. He kissed you stupid right in the middle of your kitchen. 

When you thought you were moving onto the next part of the night — forgoing dinner and heading straight to the bedroom — you were wrong. 

“What’ya doing?” he murmured against your mouth. You had reached around him, blindly finding and spinning the burner off. 

“Making sure my apartment doesn’t burn down.”

“It won’t. We’re right here.” He pressed a string of new kisses to your lips, and you could feel his smile through every single one. 

Your makeout session did not move to the bedroom. 

When the timer went off, he parted from you with a final peck to your lips, and ‘for good measure’, another one to your cheek. From there on out, you… you were useless. Just a pair of wobbly legs being ordered around by a thoughtless brain. You spilled things, and knocked things over, and clattered dishes, and eventually Eddie put you on watch duty — or as he put it, ‘sit there and look pretty’ duty. 

It didn’t get better either. He kept looking at you. Looking at you with dark eyes that you know too well. Dark eyes that felt deeper than anything you’ve felt before. Dark eyes that made your stomach swirl and your thighs clench. Dark eyes that you wanted in the bedroom, right now. 

You tried to get him in the bedroom. From your spot sitting on the countertop, you tried to hook a pointed foot around his thigh as he stirred honestly over a steaming pan. You tried to give him the same eyes back. You tried — oh god, you tried. 

And you know what he did? He set the table. Lit a candle, set out glasses, lined up forks and knives. Got you a new shirt to wear. Filled your plates, got you both napkins, pulled your chair out for you. 

You wanted him more than anything. 

And then you got him. 

The table was never cleared. Clothes were shed before either of you were past your bedroom door. Your hands were tugging at his boxers, and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated his kindness — how much you enjoyed the impromptu flowers and dinner. 

He had other plans. 

He laid you down and spread you out. Put his mouth to use — held both your hands as he did it too. It had your chest squeezing in a soft way, and your hips moving in a way you could not control. 

“Eddie,” you moaned, as he licked at your sensitive spot, pushing you just over the point of too much pleasure. You already came once but he decided that you deserved much more than that. 

“Am I making you feel good?”

“Mhm, so good, Eddie — fuck,” you gasped as your pleasure quickly became overstimulating. He rearranged your intertwined mess of hands, taking both of yours in one of his, freeing up the other to move down your body and meet his mouth at your core. 

Two fingers were pushed into your already convulsing cunt. You barely had a moment to come down, and he was barreling past that point, moving you onto your next orgasm. His fingers curled, and your whole body tensed.

“Eddie — E-Eddie,” you said, voice rising as your hips began to buck, thighs jerking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Eddie,” you whined, like it was a real answer and not just his name. Like he should know what he's doing to you — and he does, but to your ignorance, this is exactly what he wants.

“I know — I know, feels good, huh?”

And it did. His fingers felt great, but him properly filling you up felt better. As soon as he sunk his length into you, you were a goner. 

With your legs folded, ankles sitting over his shoulders, blankets gathered where you fisted them in your hands, and your toes curled tightly, Eddie fucked you. Sincerely, amorously, hard.

Every snap of his hips to yours, every crude, wet noise, every creak of the bed, was hidden well beneath the way you panted and whined — and Eddie just goaded you on.

“Yeah? Right there? That's where it feels good?”

“Yes, right — right there,” you answered devotedly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me how you want it,” he grunted, bringing a soft hand to your cheek and running it upwards, pushing back the baby hairs on your forehead. 

“Harder,” you answered, meeting his gaze. 

“Harder…?’ He smiled, trailing off to prompt you. Just as he did, he let his hips find yours with extra vigour, grinding upwards into you, his cock pressing right against your g-spot with the perfect angle to get a full-body reaction from you. He continued, rolling his hips in a quick rhythm, giving you exactly what you asked for, harder. 

“Eddie,” you gasped, body being pressed up the mattress with the sheer force of his thrust. 

“You like saying my name don’t you? Hm? Sounds so pretty when you say it.”

You should have put it together right there. But you didn’t. You just got louder.

“Eddie — fuck — Eddie!”

“I know. I got you, baby,” he replied, eyes never leaving your face as he purposefully did exactly what he needed to do to get his intended reaction from you. 

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

One final press of his pelvis to your sensitive clit, one final graze of his cock to that special spot inside of you, one final gasp of his name, and you were coming. Coming harder than you had tonight, harder than you ever had in your whole life. 

You wished you could have stayed in that moment forever. 

Pleasure coursing through you, spreading everywhere from your ten fingers to your ten toes, your mind blank apart from the pure adoration you had for the man who laid overtop of you, cumming inside of you at that very moment. The man who surprised you and brought you flowers and cooked you dinner. 

Oh, and not to mention how, in that moment, you were so blissfully ignorant to a spectacularly embarrassing fact. So naive, so ignorant. So stupid. 

Eddie was a sweetheart. Continued to be a sweetheart, actually. After giving the two of you time to settle, he eventually got up, helped clean you up, cleaned himself up, and then got back into bed with you to cuddle. Cuddling has been a normal thing for the two of you, but his smile as he cozied up close to you, with the way his lips rounded at the corners, and his dimples were so deeply set, it was not the normal, bliss-filled, post-orgasm smile. It was different, it was mischievous, and a touch unsettling. 

“What?” you eventually caved, smiling back at him as he gave you a dramatic side eye paired with a raised brow — he's been waiting for you to ask him what's on his mind. 

He grinned at you, canines poking out with all his glee. He dropped his head to your fluffed pillow, tugged you in closer, and looked at you like he was about to spill some hot, gossipy pillowtalk. 

“Think all your neighbours know my name now?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, weaving together in the centre, because what does that have to do with anything? ‘What?’ sat on the tip of your tongue, but just as he wiggled his brow, giving you a pointed look, waiting for you to put it all together, it finally hit you. It hit you like a brick to the head. A brick to the head off of a three story building. Beyond painful. 

The reason Mrs. Mabel, dear, sweet, elderly, Mrs. Mabel knew Eddie’s name to write it on your Christmas card: thin walls, his talent, your loud mouth. 

“No,” you gasped, jaw dropping.

“No?” He scrunched his forehead upwards, eyes widening, leaning in even closer to you to absorb the full extent of your shock. “Because I think they do,” he smirked, voice rising with amusement. Finding your waist under the blankets, he curled his fingers into your flesh. You squirmed, grabbing his hand and holding him still. This is serious. 

“Eddie,” you frowned, squeezing his hands before pushing them out from under the blankets and away. He let you, watching you through bright eyes, loving every minute of your humiliation. 

“Yes, sweetheart, that is my name,” he practically sang. 

“That’s so embarrassing.” You let your body shrink into the mattress, turning to hide your face in the pillow. You whined out a long groan, ridding your body of every ounce of breath in your lungs. If you were a lucky person, you would have suffocated. Died right there and rid yourself of all your mortal shame. 

“Nobody complained, I think they’re fine with it.” His hand became a heavy weight of your waist, coaxing you out from the pillow while rubbing your back.

“I’m not fine with it,” you said abruptly, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned your neck to look at Eddie. “Mrs. Mabel… she… she — ”

Eddie finished your sentence — “She gave us a Christmas card. She’s not upset,” he smiled, leaning in once again, this time to press a kiss to your forehead. 

He's wrong. You know it, but you don't have the will to fight it. So instead you rolled your eyes, sighing as you laid your head back down to your pillow. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“Oh really?” Eddie teased, his mischievous tone contradicting the gentle way he pulled the blanket up for you, covering your shoulders and tucking it under your chin. “I don’t recall me being annoying a few minutes ago?” He took a deep inhale. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie —” he began to chant, voice pitched up mockingly, volume way too loud. 

“Shush,” you scolded him, jumping forward, fighting to free your arms from the blanket to smack both of your hands over his mouth. His voice vibrated behind your palms, and his laughter stuck to your skin as you forcibly shut him up. 

Your neighbours clearly already knew his name, but if they didn’t, they definitely do now.

thank you for reading! happy holidays <333333

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. sibling issues, reader has a mean!older sister, self-doubt, crying, soft!rafe, one thousand percent self indulgent.

mia - (sister's name)

"what's wrong with you, huh?" rafe cameron's voice came out smooth as butter. you felt him nudge your arm with his elbow.

you only shrugged in response, not feeling all that well enough to use your voice.

you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, snuggled close to rafe. he picked you up every friday night from your house, then sat you snug on the couch, filled you up with all the wrong kinds of foods and put on whatever movie your heart would desire.

tonight, it was the princess diaries. you'd been excited all week to show rafe the movie you'd adored so dearly. you told him before that you were educating him on all the things he missed out on.

as excited as you'd been all week, rafe noticed that tonight you couldn't seem to so much as train your eyes on the tv.

"you're in a mood." it wasn't a question, more of a statement as he studied your face. you were close to him by all means, hands wrapping around his arm and head leaning against his bicep.

but you were quiet, you had been since he picked you up over an hour ago. you were staring at this one spot on the ground, rafe swore that by the time you looked away, you'd burn a hole in the carpet. "'m not." you answered sheepishly, turning your nose up at him.

he could tell you were trying to put on this brave face, the one you often tried to put on around him, and failed effortlessly.

he frowned at you.

at the beginning of the relationship, you'd been so closed off, not wanting to bother him with all the the things 'wrong' with you. but he thought you'd grown out of that by now.

"c'mere." he didn't give you much adjustment, already pulling you to seat yourself on his lap, where he liked you. this way, you had no way of sneaking away from his confrontation. "what's wrong, huh? what happened to m'girl?"

rafe was so soft, adoring as he traced his fingers up and down your arms, soothing you so gently.

it was the kind of calmness you'd been searching for all day.

he knew how your home life could be, especially with your older sister. you used to be close with her, she used to be your favourite person in the world. and then she got a boyfriend, and well, you don't really seem to know what to think anymore.

he felt your hands paw at his shoulders, almost pushing him away. "rafe, i-i don't―" your eyes began to gloss over, rimming red around the edges.

"hey, hey." he didn't allow you to push him, grabbing your elbows to hold you in place. "what's going on, huh? why you pushing me away?" you huffed out a breath and avoided his eyes, but nonetheless, stopped trying to fight back.

rafe felt his frown deepen.

it broke his heart a little to watch you revert into your old bad habits. but he swore sometimes, you were taking two steps forward with him and then suddenly your sister's shooting you back another five steps. "hey, c'mon, we talked about this." his fingers tapped at your chin. "y'gotta let me in."

you let out this shaky breath that he swore would have been accompanied with a whimper if you didn't have such self-restraint. "'s mia."

and rafe didn't need to hear anything else to know what was wrong.

to be blunt, rafe didn't know what to make of your sister. he knew you cared for her, he knew she would never not be your sister in any twisted universal dimension. but she wasn't exactly nice to you. to be honest, rafe wasn't so sure why you even liked her to begin with. she called you names, she teased you, she yelled at you, made you feel like a big pile of nothing.

then she'd walk into your life again as if nothing had happened.

there was always something going on with her, if it wasn't an argument with her boyfriend then it was something with work and if not that, something silly like not being able to get lunch at the country club.

and somehow, all of her problems seemed to backtrack and land on you.

your parents would often take their anger out on you too, too stressed with everything going on with mia to comprehend what they were doing to you. and you, well, you were too nice to bite back. still offering your sister money when she complained about having none after not showing up to work.

if rafe had known what you'd been spending all your allowance on, he wouldn't have let you take it in cash, he would have given you his credit card and told you very sternly to spend as much as you wanted, as long as it was on yourself.

"sweetheart."

all he had to do was say that name in that soft, gentle tone he used and you were already unravelling.

you were staring at your hands, as if looking for an answer while trying to keep your tears at bay. "she's jus' so mean."

"i know, honey." his hands were grasping at yours, trying to redirect your attention to his face.

and you did look at him, finally you looked up but you had this broken look on your face as you swallowed the lump in your throat. "i ha-have to ask you something." you were speaking all strained, trying not to cry.

rafe, suddenly nervous, soothed out the nerves in your hands and up your arms, across your shoulders to behind your neck. "you can ask me anything, baby. what's goin' on?"

"do you think..?" rafe was patient with you, listening to you choke and struggle on your words but he never once rushed you. "do you think 'm selfish?"

rafe's face contorted, as if he were actually offended that you'd even ask such a question. "what?"

you hiccuped. "'cause i t-try really hard to be nice to everyone, b-but mia said―" you cut yourself off, trying to control your breathing. you were all worked up, the day being too much, everything too overwhelming. "s-she always says that 'm selfish 'n that 'm mean. i don't... i don't wanna be a bad p-person, rafe."

for a moment, rafe was rendered speechless.

it wasn't often that rafe wasn't quite sure what to say, but this was indefinitely one of those unfortunate times.

but he could see that teary look in your eyes, staring into his own. you were searching his face, trying to gauge whether or not he believed you were good. you needed him to tell you. you needed him to believe you were good.

so he took a breath and shook his head.

"you are... by far, the most selfless person i've ever met." his fingers trailed across your cheek, down your chin, anywhere they could touch and skim your skin. "c'mon, baby, mean? you get a little hangry come seven o clock with no dinner in you but even then you wouldn't so much as raise your voice."

you huffed out a giggle, pushing his face with your sleeve-covered hands.

"'m serious." he maneuvered you so you were laying with your back against the couch and he was hovering over you. "you're m'sweet girl. the sweetest girl in the world, yeah?"

"but―"

a kiss planted against your lips shut you up. "no buts." he announced, moving a kiss to your cheek. "you are." then a kiss to the other. "the sweetest." against your forehead. "girl." a pepper to your nose. "in the entire world." and finally a kiss right back on your lips.

you stared up at him like he was worth a million diamonds and he swore he couldn't find anyone in the world that was better for him. it was you, through every universe, every dimension and every lifetime.

"now you say it." at his words, you tilted your head slightly confused. "say you're the sweetest girl in the world so i know you believe it."

another small giggle passed your lips. "rafe, n-no." feeling heat pile on your cheeks with embarrassment.

"say it." you felt his fingers pinch your sides sending a tickle up your body.

instantly, you tried to shove him away. "rafe!"

but the boy simply couldn't resist. he'd been challenged and he wasn't going to give up. "say it!" and he didn't stop pinching you, even when you were a screaming mess of giggles, begging him to stop but the laughter bubbling in your chest suggested he keep going. "all you gotta do is say it, baby."

"'m so sweet." giggling through your faux self-assurance.

however, rafe didn't stop his abuse to your sides. "'s not the full sentence!"

"fine! fine!" you felt him pause and raise an eyebrow at you, waiting. your giggles faded into a lopsided grin. "'m the sweetest girl in the world."

"yeah you are. there's m'good girl." he sat back up into a seating position, bringing your body with him so you could sit against his lap. "feelin' better, princess?"

you nodded against his chest, arms loosely falling around his body. "mm, thank you rafey." he glanced down, watching you yawn against him, perhaps today had been just a little bit too much on you.

he glanced back to the tv which was long forgotten. "what do you say, we go to bed together now 'n finish this tomorrow?"

but he was already picking up the remote to switch it off and your eyes were already fluttering closed with a whine. "no, rafey. wanted you to watch it tonight."

"oh, i know." while picking you up to bring you to your shared bedroom, switching off the lights in the process. "'m just the worst."

"no." you mumbled tiredly. "y'the sweetest boy in the world."

and rafe couldn't help but grin.

yeah, you were definitely the perfect fit for him.

[drewizz]

THIRD TIME - 08. blunder

pairing ꕀ rafe cameron x reader

WARNINGS: smut (piv unprotected [wrap it before you tap it], slight thigh riding + cunnilingus) & toxic relationship (platonic?)

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

TAGLIST: open! comment or send in an ask

series masterlist. previous

blunder. (noun) a stupid or careless mistake

Rafe Cameron does not apologize.

He was currently on the brink of insanity, and he blamed it on you. Sleep had been non-existent; his mind wouldn’t shut off, replaying every word and glance you gave him. Yet here he was, at your front door mustering courage to spit out two simple words to you.

“I’m sorry.”

Nevermind that, at least he was here with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs. He hated how vulnerable he felt, hated that he was even here. (But for desperate measures, he needed to be here.) 

He raised his hand to knock on the door, hesitated, and then let it fall. What was he even supposed to say?

Hey, I’m sorry for being a complete asshole, but I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m not even sure what the next step is between us. What are we? Do you like me?

Before he could overthink himself into leaving, the door creaked open. Relief mixed with dread until his stomach dropped.

You weren’t the one opening the door.

It was Topper Thornton.

“Top? What the fuck are you doing here?” Rafe blurted before he could stop himself.

Topper looked just as surprised, but his expression quickly morphed into a knowing smirk. “Oh, well speak of the devil. I could ask you the same thing.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He tried to piece together why the hell Topper would be at your house—early in the morning, no less. His stomach churned with suspicion, his temper already flickering to life.

“Where’s Y/N?” Rafe asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

Topper leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “She’s inside. Why?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He pushed past Topper without waiting for an invitation, his gaze darting around the small entryway.

“Y/N!” he called, his tone clipped.

“What the hell, man?” Topper said, stepping in front of him. “You can’t just barge into her house.”

“So you’re just allowed to be in here?” Rafe snapped as he could feel his anger level again.

“I’m actually a good friend of Y/N,” Topper said, his tone mocking.

The sound of footsteps caught Rafe’s attention, and he turned to see you stepping out of the kitchen, your face a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“Rafe?” you said, voice laced with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you,” he said, his gaze flicking to Topper before settling back on you. “But I guess you’re already busy.”

You frowned, your brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”

Rafe gestured to Topper, his movements sharp. “Him. Why the fuck is he here?”

“Seriously?” You said, crossing your arms. “He stopped by to drop something off, and now he’s leaving. Why are you even here?”

“I asked why he’s here, didn’t I?” Rafe repeated, his voice rising (and ignoring your question). “You think it’s normal for him to just show up at your house like this?”

“Rafe, you need to calm down,” you said, your tone firm. “I told you, he’s only here to drop something off from a while ago – I haven’t seen him for probably over a year.”

“I’m calm,” he snapped, though his clenched fists and rigid posture said otherwise. “And whatever. I don’t care why he’s here.”

Topper snorted, and Rafe’s head whipped toward him.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Rafe said, stepping closer to Topper. “Just because you came here to drop some shit off doesn’t mean –”

“Doesn’t particularly mean what?” Topper interrupted, his smirk widening. “Unlike you, I actually know how to treat people right, or so I’ve heard.”

Rafe’s vision blurred with anger, his hands flexing at his sides. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think I do,” Topper said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Topper, stop it,” you said while stepping between them.

Rafe’s gaze snapped to you, his expression softening for just a moment before hardening again. “Is this what you do now?” he asked, his voice low and accusatory. “You let him into your house, you hang out with him –

“Are you serious right now?” you interrupted, noting how your voice was rising. “You don’t get to come here and act like this. Especially not after the shit you said last night.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “I don’t trust him,” he said, his tone defensive.

“This isn’t about Topper,” you said with evident frustration. “This is about you and the fact that you can’t seem to figure out what exactly you want.”

“I know what I want,” Rafe said, his voice quieter but no less intense.

“Do you?” you shot back, with eyes narrowing. “Because last night you made it pretty damn clear that you didn’t.”

Topper cleared his throat, his presence suddenly feeling intrusive. “You know what? I’ll leave you two to... whatever this is.”

He gave you a mock salute before brushing past Rafe and out the door.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the tension in the room became almost unbearable.

You turned to Rafe, your expression a mix of anger and hurt. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Rafe said, his voice rising. “I’m not the one letting him hang around like he owns the place.”

“He’s just someone I know, Rafe,” you said, your voice cracking. “He needed to give me back something from almost a year ago. I don’t even consider him as an entirely good friend of mine, anyway.”

“Well I don’t think you’re fucking him,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “And I’m also not trying to control you or shit like that.”

“Yes, you are,” you said, your frustration boiling over. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either. Do you even hear yourself?”

Rafe opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His hands flexed at his sides, his frustration palpable.

“You can’t have it both ways, Rafe,” you said in a voice much softer now, though no less pained. “You can’t keep pushing me away and then get mad when I try to move on.”

“I’m not trying to push you away,” Rafe said, his voice coming out much harsher than he wanted it to.

“Then what are you doing?” you asked, your eyes searching his.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice softening. “I don’t know how to do this. This thing… between us.”

Your expression softened, but only slightly. “You need to figure it out, Rafe. Because I can’t keep doing this.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.

Finally, Rafe took a step back, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Go to the beach with me.”

You looked at him with disbelief written all over your face. “Is that seriously what you’re going to say to me? After all of that?”

“Well I didn’t know that he would be here,” he muttered. “And I was originally going to apologize to you.”

His jaw worked overtime, clenching and unclenching, before he finally groaned and dragged a hand down his face. "Alright," he muttered, not quite meeting your eyes. "I was – whatever. I was out of line earlier, including last night. I was a dick, and you didn’t deserve it. Happy now?"

You raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the counter with a barely concealed smirk. "That’s your idea of an apology?"

His head snapped up, his glare half-hearted. "What do you want, a parade?"

"A little sincerity wouldn’t kill you," you shot back, crossing your arms as your smirk widened.

Rafe groaned again, the sound low and frustrated. "Fine," he bit out, stepping closer. His voice softened, though the vulnerability seemed to physically pain him. "I shouldn’t have acted like that. Okay? I’m sorry."

You tilted your head, feigning deep thought. "Well that sounded half-assed, no?"

“Fine. I’m incredibly sorry I was acting like a complete asshole to you, and you don’t deserve it.”

“Did you say that to just shut me up or to actually apologize?”

"Both," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. “Now go to the beach with me.”

“Fine. But only because I have no plans for the rest of the day.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

The short ride to the beach was quite peaceful. There weren’t any words exchanged between you two, as Rafe’s eyes were focused on the road and yours settled on the scenery passing outside the window.

“You’re oddly quiet.” 

You rolled your eyes as you wiped your sweaty palms on your legs. (You weren’t even sure why your palms were sweaty in the first place.) “There’s just nothing to talk about.”

In return, all you got was a quiet hum of acknowledgment from him.

As he drove, the tension between you softened into something more tolerable. Rafe tapped the steering wheel, glancing at you occasionally like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. The road stretched ahead of you two, winding toward the coast where the scent of salt and sea promised a reprieve from your usual turmoil.

“And we’re here, princess.”

The sun was still high in the sky when he parked the car near the sand, the salty breeze rolling in as you opened the door. Something about stepping out onto the warm sand with Rafe beside you felt surreal.

“This feels normal,” you said, grabbing your bag from the backseat. “Oddly.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow as he shut his door. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not bad,” you replied, walking next to him. “Just unexpected. First you come and argue with Topper. Then, you’re apologizing and asking me to go to the beach with you. Now here we are.”

“I’m certainly exceptional at surprises.”

His smirk was enough to make you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

You made your way down the sandy path, weaving between families with umbrellas and couples sprawled out on towels. The ocean stretched endlessly before you two, the waves crashing in a rhythm that was both calming and wild.

You dropped your bag near a quieter spot and slipped off your sandals. The sand was warm beneath your feet, the kind of heat that made you want to run straight into the cool water.

“Race you,” Rafe said suddenly, already tugging off his shirt. 

You blinked at him whilst shamelessly staring at his topless form. “What?”

“Come on, Y/N.” He was already taking off toward the water, his laugh carried by the wind.

“Cheater!” you shouted, chasing after him.

By the time you reached the shoreline, he was already waist-deep in the water, grinning like he’d just won a gold medal.

“You’re the worst,” you panted, stepping into the surf.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, splashing you playfully.

The cold water hit your body, and you gasped. “Rafe!”

“What? Thought you needed to cool off.”

You didn’t hesitate, scooping up water with your hands and throwing it at him. The splash hit his chest, and he feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his heart.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, advancing toward you.

“No, wait–”

But it was too late. He scooped you up in one swift motion, carrying you further into the water.

“Rafe! Put me down!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.

“As you wish,” he said, and before you could protest, he dropped you into the waves.

The water enveloped you, cool and refreshing against the heat of the day. You surfaced quickly, sputtering and wiping your face, only to see Rafe doubled over in laughter.

“You’re dead,” you said, lunging at him.

The two of you spent the next several minutes splashing and dunking each other, laughter blending with the sound of the waves. It was chaotic and silly, the kind of unguarded fun you didn’t realize that you needed for a long time.

At some point, both of you stopped, panting and standing waist-deep in the water. Rafe ran a hand through his wet hair, the sun catching on the droplets clinging to his skin.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” he said, nodding toward you.

“Good at what?”

“Keeping up with me.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Wading back toward the shore, the sun was drying both of your soaked skins, as you two found your spots on the sand. Rafe pulled a towel from your bag and tossed it at you.

“Thanks,” you said, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

Sitting in silence for a moment, watching the waves crash and retreat, you smiled to yourself. You liked this. The peace. Having comfort by you. Him.

“This is nice,” you said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice unusually quiet. “But I still wanna know why Top was at your house.”

“Topper’s just someone I know. We have history, not like that but – he’s someone I know. He’s not even considered a close friend of mine.”

“So he was just at your house? When you two aren’t even close friends?”

You felt your own eyes warily turn to Rafe, letting out a sigh. “Rafe, I already told you. He needed to drop something off that I forgot I even had, after an entire year. That’s all.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Another cue of serenity passed between you two.

After a few long minutes, you glanced at him, surprised to find him looking at you. There was something unreadable in his expression, something you couldn’t quite place.

“What?” you asked, suddenly getting self-conscious.

“Nothing.” He looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just never seen you so happy.”

You smiled faintly, staring out at the horizon. “I guess I am.”

For a while, both of you just sat there, the sun beginning its descent and casting a golden glow over the beach. It was peaceful in a way that felt fragile, like it could break at any moment.

“You like ice cream?” Rafe asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “There’s a nice ice cream shop around here we can head to, before head back.”

“Depends on the flavor,” you replied, standing and brushing the sand off your legs. “But an ice cream sounds perfect for right now.”

After the (unfortunately) short moment at the beach – Rafe rolled his truck to a stop in front of the small ice cream shop. He never took girls out for ice cream, much less to hang out with in the public (that was apart from fucking). And here he was today, apologizing to you. Taking you to the beach. Driving you to buy ice cream. So many things he’s never done over the past years, but all done in a single day – just for you.

The faint hum of conversation and laughter spilled out as you both stepped inside the shop, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the cozy atmosphere.

Rafe made a beeline for the counter. “Two small salted caramels, please,” he told the cashier without hesitation.

“Hold on,” you interrupted, pulling his arm back. “You don’t get to decide my order. And really, salted caramel?”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Oh, and here I thought we would have the same favorite ice cream flavor in mind, too. If salted caramels that terrible of a flavor, what’re you going to get?”

You stepped closer to the menu (miserably failing to stop the smile creeping onto your face), scanning the options with mock seriousness. “Something simple. Like vanilla.”

“You’re impossible,” Rafe said, shaking his head but grinning nonetheless. 

Finally ordering (after a small bicker), the two of you headed back outside, finding a quiet bench under a streetlamp.

You took a slow lick of your cone, savoring the sweetness, while Rafe leaned back, his legs stretched out and his cone melting slightly in his hand.

“Vanilla? Really?” he teased.

“Some of us appreciate the classics,” you shot back, holding your cone up in mock defense. “And really, salted caramel?”

He gestured toward his cone, feigning offense. “Hey! It’s the perfect combination. Salty and sweet, not to forget how it’s a little unexpected of flavors… like me.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin etching your face. “If by ‘unexpected’ you mean ‘annoying,’ then sure.”

Rafe chuckled, and for a moment, the banter was light and easy, the earlier tension melting like the ice cream in both of your hands.

But then his gaze lingered, catching on a streak of ice cream at the corner of your mouth.

“You’ve got…” He gestured vaguely at your face.

You frowned, swiping at your lip with your hand. “Here?”

“No.” He leaned closer, the amusement fading into something heavier. “Let me.”

Before you could protest, his thumb brushed against your lip, his touch warm and deliberate. The motion was slow, almost agonizing, and you froze, your breath catching.

Then he did it. He brought his thumb to his mouth, licking off the ice cream with a small, deliberate flick of his tongue. “Hm. Tastes sweet.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “That was unnecessary.”

“Was it?” Rafe’s voice was low, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was downright dangerous.

You tried to form a coherent response, but your mind felt like a jumbled mess of emotions.  Rafe leaned back, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“You’re such a jerk,” you muttered, but your voice lacked any real bite.

“Yeah, but I’m the jerk you agreed to come to the beach with,” he replied, his smirk widening.

You groaned, focusing on your cone and refusing to look at him, afraid of what he might see written all over your face.

Both of you sat there in peace for a while longer, the quiet night wrapping around. 

“You know,” Rafe started off. “I just noticed your parents are never home. You don’t live with them?”

Touchy subject. But you didn’t want to talk about it right now, not while everything was going well. It would ruin the mood. So instead, you just shrugged. “I don’t really talk to them anymore. It’s been awhile, so yeah. I just live alone.”

Rafe glanced over, promptly nodding without asking any further questions.

The stillness stretched over you two, once again, before you sighed. “We should get home now, it’s getting dark. Drive me back home, please?”

“Anything for you.”

The drive back to your house was quiet, the air between both of you charged with a tension that seemed to grow heavier with every passing mile. When Rafe finally pulled into your driveway, you hesitated before getting out, glancing at him.

“Today was really nice,” you said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. “It was.”

Inside, the house was dimly lit, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound as you set your bag down and went to get you two some water. When you turned back, Rafe was standing closer than you expected, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, but his eyes betrayed him, filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“You’re staring,” you said, trying to inject some levity into the moment. This was exactly the feeling you felt the last time he was inside your house. In the kitchen. Standing less than 1 foot away from you.

“Maybe I can’t help it,” he replied, his voice low and rough.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, your lips met.

The kiss was hesitant at first, a question of which neither of you were sure how to answer. But it deepened quickly, all the emotions you two had been suppressing were now spilling over into the way yours mouths moved against each other.

When both of you finally broke apart, breathless, foreheads resting together.

“You can’t just do that,” you started off. “This is what happened last time… and you know.”

Rafe quirked a teasing eyebrow at you. “What? Is this your way of subtly asking to reenact it?”

You felt your face ablaze, strongly gripping the counter behind you. “No, I wasn’t,” you squeaked as you heard him chuckle. “I was just… telling you.”

“Princess, you can always just ask for it.”

You were not going to be making the same mistake again. But impulse came before forethoughts of your heady actions. You gripped his shirt, pressing your lips against his – hopeful that he would reiterate with the same desire.

And thankfully, he did. His hands were suddenly wandering everywhere on your body. Searching around, finding its spot – one gently (but needily) cradling your head, while the other skimming your waistline.

“Bedroom,” you hoarsely muttered against his lips. “Not here.”

Lips reuniting with a desperate hunger, a collision of breath and need that sent a shiver through both of you. His hands were roaming more instinctively – grasping, pulling, holding – as you two stumbled back, movements uncoordinated but full of urgency.

Rafe tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, mouths moving in perfect chaos. You gasped against him, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as you bumped into the corner of the hallway. A half-laugh, half-groan escaped as he steadied you, his grip firm at your waist.

You didn’t bother turning on the lights; the faint glow from the horizon outside was streaming through the windows, enough to guide you two.

The kisses were relentless, punctuated by whispers of names and breathless laughter. His hands slyly sliding under your shirt, warm against your skin, as you were pressed against the bedroom door. You fumbled with the handle, breaking the kiss just long enough to look up at him, your eyes glazed and lips swollen.

“Here,” you whispered, barely audible, but he didn’t need words. His answer was the way his lips returned to yours, softening for a moment before pulling you inside. As if he was waiting for this very moment, lost in action. 

Every step was a tangle of limbs and stolen touches, the urgency was pacing and being matched. Crashing onto the bed, everything was becoming hazy. The desire was just about everywhere, scouring through your body.

You could feel how strategically slow he was moving against your body. His lips glided across your lips, down to your chest (which was still frustratingly clothed).

Everything was too slow for your liking. It was becoming too agonizingly slow. You were splayed on the bed, between his knees and his hands were still actively roaming around everywhere. Soft kisses planted on every inch of your skin that was bare. 

Both of your clothes were coming off, one by one, with an exchange of a soft kiss on your skin. His hands were just about everywhere, on the heat of your thighs, to your soft abdomen. The cool air hit your breasts which were pleasantly pert, and nipples unthinkably hard.

Soft moans were spilling out of you, with a trail of heavy breathing, as his tongue was swirling on the junctions of your skin, next to your sopping heat.

“Rafe,” you weren’t even thinking straight. “Stop teasing, you’re gonna kill me here.”

All you got in response was a soft chuckle and a teasing kiss to your clit. He was softly licking at your cunt, and you were only dripping in response. Your sweetness dripped on his tongue, down his throat – now he was impossibly stiff.

Quickly climbing onto the bed, as his back hit the headboard of the bed, sitting up up-right on his thigh. He sat you up right on his thigh, enclosing his hand full of your hair, bringing his lips down to your ear. “Princess, you’re soaked.”

You felt your face turn more red (if that was even possible), starting to slowly grind against his thigh. Your arousal was slowly spreading, as your clit was deliciously colliding with muscle-taut thighs. “Feels too good,” you whined.

Rafe was in absolute euphoria as he felt what was happening right now. You were here, on top of him on your bed, getting off from his own thigh – whining and moaning in his ear. He felt your fingers trace his arms up to his pecs, leading to goosebumps to arise, making him shiver and shut his eyes.

He felt your cunt moving from his thigh to his hard cock, as your hips were hugging him. He could imagine behind his closed eyes, a glistening trail of your arousal dripping all over him – and this made him harder. Painfully.

Next thing he felt was your warm cunt enveloping his cock, as you sank down on him. Eyes rolling back into his head, his teeth were gritting against each other. “Oh my fuck,” he managed to get out, he’s not sure of what he’s saying, anyways. “I didn’t put on a condom.”

He’s in complete bliss, trying not to thrust up harder, as he hears you mewl in his ear. 

“It’s okay, ‘m on the pill.” 

You were so fucking tight and warm, clamping down on his cock like how he clamped his sweaty fingers deep in your hips – mentally apologizing if it left a small bruise the next morning. 

The way you rolled your hips in such a fluid motion was keeping him insane. A rhythm that was built, drawing him too close to the edge that he’s even thinking about shoving you away. He can hold himself, just a bit more.

Next thing is that he feels you shudder, both your pelvis and your breath, against him. He can feel your fingers digging into the expanse of his shoulders, as you’re writhing in a flowing motion. You’re coming undone against him, on him, with him inside of you.

“Oh my God. Rafe.”

Hearing his name sweetly cry out of your mouth, with your succulent voice while your sweaty body collides with his, only causes him to roll you over onto your back. He wants more, and he can sense that you also want more.

“Can I…?” he muttered against your lips. He’s seeking your approval, that this is okay. Everything’s okay. It’s not just him. It’s both of you. You both want it. To fuck. Or was it love? 

Or maybe, each other?

Nevermind that, he’s inwardly grinning as he sees you manage to spread your legs even wider, whining out a response, knowing that this is surely mutual. Right?

“Please,” you manage to whine out. “Yes.”

He notes your confirmation as he holds you down, hands gripping your thighs. Both of your bodies meet together like a puzzle piece, like the two of you have always done this with such… love.

He grazes your slick-covered heat with his cock, sliding into you with such ease. The pleasure that’s thrumming beneath his hips is driving him mad, eyes rolling back due to the immense surge that went straight to his body.

Moving at an incredulously slow pace, he can feel your finger grasping at him – a sign to go faster. And so he does. Picking up his pace, his thrusts are going at a faster tempo, he leans closer to your face to give you a kiss. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, he’s not even sure of what he’s promising you at this rate.

All he feels is your hips attempting to meet his hips at the delicious pace, cunt clenching as his fingers reach down to your attention-seeking clit. He feels you tug at his hair, at his back – your hands are everywhere. He loves it.

He’s not sure of what you’re saying, but he hears your high-pitched whines and mewls, as your hips are erratically twitching and your soaked cunt clenching him tightly. Pulling out, he lets go on your stomach, feeling a groan rip through his throat. Everything is hazy.

A long moment of silence is passed through between the two of you, only deep breathing and pants to be heard. He hears you ask him to help carry you to the bathroom, and so he does.

He cleans up in the guest bathroom, and after a few long minutes you two reunite again in the bedroom the two of you just fucked in.

“Lay down with me,” you muster out, grabbing his arm and tugging him down on the floor. “The bed’s all sweaty now, just lay down on the ground with me.”

So he does, and he likes it. He’s not really sure what to do next. He’s never done this before. He usually fucks and leaves. He’s not used to staying after a session of fucking. Then he hears your sweet, timid voice which catches him off-guard. A question he’s been dreading to be asked.

“So, what does this make us? What even are we?”

“Uh,” Rafe clears his throat. “Friends.”

You sit upright, staring down at him. “Friends?”

He doesn’t like this. He’s not sure why you’re furrowing your brows at him, in a questioning tone. They’re friends now, right? So all he musters out is a blunt response. “Yeah?”

You stare at him warily and confused. You were sure that the reason he took you to the beach and got ice cream, him pulling you in for a kiss – it was more than just saying the word ‘friends’. It was like the night, all over again. “You’re joking, right?”

He looks away, sighing. “I already told you I don’t do relationships, Y/N.” He can’t tell you that he’s never been in a relationship before, he thinks it’ll ruin his image for you. A boy who’s never been in a relationship before.

You feel as if he just stabbed you, once again. “So this whole time,” you started off carefully, trying to get only the facts straight. “You fucked me as a friend?”

“Yeah.”

To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he felt of you. Were you a friend? More than a friend? No, he couldn’t think you were more than a friend. He felt that dating was a meticulous chore.

“Get out.”

He hears your voice, but it sounds pained. Why? Did you seriously want to be more than friends? He told you plenty of times that he didn't do relationships, why was this being turned onto him?

“What?”

You’re sniffling, and you’re not sure if you should necessarily be crying over him (again). “I said get out of my house.”

“I already told you I can’t, and don’t, do relationships.” He’s not sure why he says that in a questioning manner. It’s how he feels, right?

“Rafe, will you just get out?”

He stands up, and suddenly he feels angry. He’s not sure why, but he feels mad. Livid, even. He told you multiple times that he’s not a relationship type guy, and now it’s his fault? The next few words he spits at you is from complete impulse. “You can’t fucking make it seem like it’s just my fault when you were also the one rubbing yourself all over me. I even told you I don’t do relationships.” He snaps his mouth closed as he sees your pained face, washed by vulnerability.

“Get out.” Your voice betrays you, slipping out the tremble.

“Fine.”

He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to apologize. He wants to hold you tight to his body and apologize, with genuinity. Telling you he’s never done this. He can be better for you. But he can’t hurt his pride. He walks to the front door and turns back to ask you (with some kind of audacity). “Can I have your number, at least?”

You shove him out the door, and before slamming it shut on his face, you mutter with such vile. “You won’t need it since this is the last time we’ll see each other.”

He blankly stares at your front door that’s been slammed at his face. He feels sorry, but he’s not sure how to express it. Is he sorry? He’s not sure. But he feels guilt, in some way. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Well, not as he originally planned. He wanted to build a truce between you and him. Not a complete shut out. He sighs, angrily running his hand through his hair. He walks to his truck and he’s confused. Did he like you? Or did he just enjoy the utmost interesting attention you gave him?

He decides on the latter, and he drives off. Something is oddly nagging at his heart, but he (attempted to) brush it off instead.

That marked the first checkpoint between Rafe and Y/N. Strangers to enemies, with an inclusion of two fucks and an unsolicited "date." In other terms, the first “try” between the two of them, after two weeks of their first encounter at a party, with unsupervised whiskey.

NOTES. hey... it's been awhile 😅 (but yay! we finally ended the first part) we're going to get that topper and yn's parents backstory in the second part.. (the upcoming few chapters 🤫) meanwhile.. thank you for all those asks and love you've been all sending :') truly love all of you

TAGS. check settings if you aren't properly tagged. @urbrunettebombshell @rafesfavouritegirl @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @percysley @wtfdudesblog @fratbrochrisgf @rrosiitas @powpowjinxlife @ltristessedureratoujours @ditzyzombiesblog @honeyluvsatj

[misaerabl]

What's Your Christmas Wish?

Younger ellie X Older Reader

SUMMARY: Life in a small town is simple—until Ellie Williams comes along. At 21, she’s charming, persistent, and entirely too good at testing your resolve. For a year, she’s made her feelings for you abundantly clear, despite your insistence that the age gap is a dealbreaker. But on Christmas Eve, amidst the glow of fairy lights and the warmth of a town gathering, Ellie’s determination might just prove harder to ignore. As snow falls and boundaries blur, you’re left to wonder: is it the holiday magic, or has Ellie been right all along? WARNINGS: age gap, (Ellie is 21, no specific age mentioned but reader is in middle-late twenties), fingering, oral sex, top ellie, bottom reader, she calls you nurse sunshine, beautiful, etc.

December 22.

The warmth of the clinic wraps around you like a blanket as you organize patient files, the occasional Christmas jingle playing faintly from your phone. You’ve always loved this time of year—the crisp snow, the twinkling lights, the quiet hum of a small town preparing for the holidays.

But Ellie, well… Ellie loves to make this time of year something else entirely.

The bell above the door jingles, and you look up to see her strolling in, cheeks pink from the cold, auburn hair peeking out from under a wool hat. She’s carrying a tray of steaming hot cocoa in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other.

“Ellie,” you say with a sigh, knowing exactly what’s coming. “You can’t keep showing up like this.”

“And you can’t keep pretending you don’t like it,” she retorts, setting the tray on the counter. Her grin is nothing short of shameless, the same one that’s been chipping away at your resolve since the day you met her.

“Ellie—”

“Relax. It’s Christmas,” she interrupts, sliding one of the cups toward you. “Consider it my gift to you, Nurse Sunshine.”

You give her a pointed look at the nickname, but she only shrugs, unbothered. This has been her game for the past year: showing up unannounced, delivering food or drinks, and throwing out lines that would’ve worked on someone less resistant. But you know better—or at least, you tell yourself you do.

“You’re a college student,” you remind her for the hundredth time. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with people your age?”

She leans on the counter, a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe. But why would I waste my time with them when I could be here, convincing you to finally say yes to dinner?”

Your laugh escapes before you can stop it. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Only because you’re worth it,” she shoots back smoothly. Her confidence is infuriatingly endearing, and you have to look away before she notices the faint smile tugging at your lips.

“Ellie, this… whatever you’re doing—it’s not going to happen,” you say, trying to sound firm. “There’s an age gap, and—”

“I’m 21, not 16,” she interjects, rolling her eyes. “You act like I’m some clueless kid.”

“And you act like you don’t understand what I’m saying.”

There’s a beat of silence before she speaks again, softer this time. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up.”

You shake your head, exasperated but oddly touched. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re beautiful,” she says without missing a beat, her grin returning. “But hey, I’ll leave you to your work. Just wanted to drop these off.”

She winks, grabbing her coat and heading for the door. Before she leaves, she pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Beautiful. I’ll see you around.”

The bell jingles as she disappears into the snow, leaving you with a tray of cocoa, a bag of pastries, and a heart that’s just a little too warm for comfort.

Ellie doesn’t make it easy to focus on your work after that. You sip the hot cocoa—it’s perfect, annoyingly so—and glance at the pastries, neatly arranged in their bag like a gift you didn’t ask for but can’t quite refuse.

She’s persistent, you’ll give her that. Every time you think she’ll finally take the hint, she bounces back with another clever line, another charming grin, another gesture that makes your heart waver just enough to frustrate you.

It’s late by the time you leave the clinic, the streets quiet under a blanket of snow. You’re halfway home when you see her again, this time standing by the town’s massive Christmas tree in the square. Strings of colorful lights cast a warm glow on her face as she fiddles with her scarf, pacing like she’s waiting for someone.

You hesitate. Maybe you could slip past unnoticed. But as if sensing your presence, she looks up, and her face lights up in a way that makes escape impossible.

“Hey!” she calls out, jogging over. “Leaving work so late?”

“It’s part of the job,” you reply, pulling your coat tighter against the cold. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you, apparently,” she says, falling into step beside you. “Thought you might need some company on the way home.”

You roll your eyes. “Ellie, I’m perfectly capable of walking home alone.”

“Sure you are. But where’s the fun in that?”

Her tone is playful, but there’s a sincerity in her eyes that makes your chest tighten. You’ve spent the past year trying to ignore the way she looks at you, the way her words linger in your mind longer than they should. It’s easier to focus on the reasons why this can’t happen than to acknowledge the part of you that wonders, just for a moment, what if?

“Ellie,” you begin, your voice soft but firm. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “The age gap, the professionalism, all that. I get it. But, come on, it’s Christmas. Can’t we just… enjoy the moment?”

You stop walking, turning to face her. She looks up at you, her auburn hair catching the light from a nearby lamppost, and for a second, you hate how easy she makes it to forget all the reasons why you’ve been saying no.

“This isn’t fair, you know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s not fair?” she asks, her tone softer now, almost vulnerable.

“The way you make me feel,” you admit, surprising even yourself. “You’re young, Ellie. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to waste it on someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” she echoes, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re incredible. And if you think I don’t know what I want, you’re wrong.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and unyielding. She steps closer, her breath visible in the cold night air.

“I’m not asking for forever,” she says. “I’m just asking for a chance. One chance.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the weight of her gaze almost too much to bear. You want to say no, to give her the same answer you’ve given a hundred times before. But something about the way she looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world who matters—makes it harder than ever to walk away.

“Ellie…” you start, but the words catch in your throat.

“Just think about it,” she says softly, stepping back. “That’s all I’m asking.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Ellie steps back with a small smirk. “Just think about it,” she repeats softly.

But instead of turning to leave, she takes a step forward, brushing past you and walking ahead toward the direction of your house. She glances back over her shoulder, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Come on,” she says, tilting her head toward the road. “It’s cold, and I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

You blink, caught off guard by the shift, but she doesn’t give you much choice. The snow crunches under your boots as you follow her, her pace casual but her presence anything but.

“You know,” you say, catching up to her, “I thought you were all about dramatic exits. What happened to leaving me with some cryptic line?”

She grins, her breath visible in the frigid air. “I figured walking you home might make a better impression. Besides, I didn’t feel like saying goodbye yet.”

You sigh, shaking your head, but there’s no denying the warmth in your chest—whether from her words or the fact that she’s still here, you’re not sure. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Persistent or charming?” she teases, her tone light. “Be honest.”

“Borderline annoying,” you counter, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your words.

She laughs, the sound rich and genuine, and for a moment, the world feels a little brighter despite the winter chill. You walk in comfortable silence for a while, the snow falling gently around you, the quiet of the small town wrapping you both in its peaceful embrace.

As you near your house, Ellie slows, falling into step beside you. “I’m serious, though,” she says, her voice softer now. “I get why you’re hesitant, and I respect it. But… I really do like you, [Your Name]. More than just some crush.”

Her words hit you harder than you expect, and you glance at her. She’s looking ahead, her profile illuminated by the glow of a streetlamp. There’s no trace of the usual playfulness in her expression—just sincerity and a hint of vulnerability.

You stop in front of your house, the warm glow of the porch light cutting through the night. Ellie stops too, turning to face you. “I’m not asking for an answer now,” she says. “I just want you to know how I feel. And that I’ll wait… as long as it takes.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. But the way she looks at you—like you’re the only thing that matters—makes it impossible to dismiss her entirely.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you say finally, your voice quiet.

Ellie nods, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Anytime.”

You unlock the door and step inside, hesitating for just a second. She stays on the porch, hands back in her pockets, a soft smile still lingering on her face.

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you say, your tone gentler than before.

“Goodnight, Beautiful,” she replies, and with one last look, she turns and heads back down the snowy path.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment. Your heart feels unsteady, caught between logic and the pull of something you’re not sure you can keep ignoring.

And as you glance at the tray of cocoa and the star ornament Ellie left earlier, you can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—she’s right.

December 24, christmas eve

The Anderson house was stunning, wrapped in glowing lights and adorned with wreaths and garlands at every corner. It looked like something out of a holiday movie, with the laughter and chatter of nearly the entire town spilling out into the frosty air. You stepped inside, greeted by the warmth and the unmistakable aroma of mulled wine and fresh pine.

You spotted Jerry Anderson almost immediately, his booming laughter unmistakable as he entertained a group near the fireplace. His daughter, Abby, wasn’t far off, standing tall and commanding attention effortlessly. She waved you over when she saw you, her bright smile as inviting as her father’s hospitality.

"Hey! long time no see,” Abby greeted, her voice warm and confident. She towered over most people in the room, her broad shoulders and easy posture making her presence impossible to miss.

“Abby, hi,” you replied with a smile, grateful to find someone familiar in the crowd. “How’s it going?”

“Busy, as usual,” she said, gesturing for you to join her by the side table laden with appetizers. “But I’ve been home for a couple of weeks now. It’s nice to have some downtime.”

You nodded, picking up a glass of cider as she continued. “What about you? How’s life at the clinic? Still saving lives left and right?”

You chuckled. “Not quite as dramatic as that, but yeah, keeping busy.”

Abby leaned against the table, genuinely interested. “You must have some stories, though. Come on, give me the juiciest one.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “Patient confidentiality, remember? But let’s just say, small towns definitely keep you on your toes.”

The conversation flowed easily from there, diving into topics of medicine and health. As a soldier, Abby had seen her fair share of injuries and medical emergencies, and her insights made the discussion lively and engaging. You found yourself enjoying the back-and-forth, though oblivious to the way her smile lingered a little longer on you or the subtle warmth in her voice.

Across the room, Ellie spotted you. She froze mid-conversation with a group of her friends, her eyes narrowing as they landed on you and Abby. Her jaw clenched when she noticed how close Abby was standing, the way her hand casually rested on the back of your chair as you laughed at something she said.

Ellie’s friend nudged her. “You okay?”

“Hm?” Ellie snapped out of it, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah. Just… thirsty. I’ll be back.”

She excused herself, weaving through the crowd with a cider in hand but no intention of drinking it. Her steps slowed as she approached the area where you and Abby stood, unnoticed by either of you. She leaned against a nearby pillar, her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched Abby lean in closer, her voice dropping slightly as she said something that made you smile.

Ellie’s grip tightened around her cup. She wasn’t sure what was worse—the way Abby looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky or the fact that you didn’t seem to notice.

Ellie lingered by the pillar, her knuckles whitening around the cup as Abby leaned closer, whispering something that made you laugh softly. The sound lit up the room for Ellie, but not in the way it usually did. Tonight, it felt like it was for someone else entirely—and that someone wasn’t her.

Her chest tightened as Abby straightened up, glancing toward an older woman waving her over from across the room. Abby’s face briefly soured before she plastered on a polite smile and turned back to you.

“Looks like my dad’s trying to set me up again,” Abby muttered, her voice low but just loud enough for you to hear.

You raised an eyebrow. “Set you up? With who?”

Abby tilted her head toward a tall, broad-shouldered man standing stiffly near her father. “That guy. He’s a doctor, apparently. Or at least that’s what my dad’s been bragging about all night. Like that’s supposed to impress me.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, the corners of your lips curling upward. “What, not your type?”

Abby smirked, leaning just a little closer. “Not even in the same galaxy as my type. But Dad’s already waving me over, so I guess I can’t avoid it.” She glanced at you, her eyes glinting with humor. “Wish me luck?”

You chuckled. “Good luck, Abby. Don’t be too mean to him.”

She winked before standing up straight and heading toward her father, muttering under her breath as she went.

Ellie saw her chance and took it. She pushed off the pillar and strode toward you, her steps deliberate and purposeful. By the time you noticed her, she was already sliding into the chair Abby had vacated.

“Hey,” Ellie said casually, though her eyes betrayed her tension.

You blinked in surprise. “Ellie? I didn’t even see you there.”

She shrugged, setting her cider down on the table. “You seemed pretty… busy.” The edge in her tone was subtle but enough to make you pause.

You tilted your head at her. “Is something wrong?”

Ellie shook her head quickly, her expression softening slightly. “No, just thought I’d say hi. It’s Christmas Eve, after all.” She leaned back in her chair, her usual confidence returning as she added, “Figured I’d rescue you from whatever overly charming nonsense Abby was throwing your way.”

Your lips quirked up, but you shook your head. “Ellie, we were just talking. It’s not like that.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Not like what?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure,” Ellie said with a small smirk, though her eyes lingered on you a moment longer than they should. “Anyway, Merry Christmas, Nurse Sunshine.”

She picked up her cider and raised it slightly in a mock toast. You couldn’t help but smile at her, despite the slight tension still hanging in the air.

The room buzzed with excitement as the countdown to Christmas neared its final moments. People gathered closer together, their faces lit by the warm glow of twinkling lights and the gentle flicker of the fireplace. You stood among the crowd, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you watched the joy radiating around you.

As the countdown hit ten, you glanced up at the ceiling, noticing the delicate greenery of a mistletoe hanging just above you. The realization made you chuckle softly. Of course, Jerry Anderson would have mistletoe.

“Didn’t think I’d find you standing here,” a familiar voice said behind you, warm and teasing.

You turned, already knowing who it was. Ellie stood there, her hands in her jacket pockets, her green eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and nervousness. Your gaze flickered upward again, realizing with a slight jolt that she was standing directly beneath the mistletoe with you.

Ellie followed your line of sight, and her smirk widened. “Well, would you look at that?” she said, her tone light, but there was a softness in her eyes that made your heart skip. “Guess this is what they call fate, huh?”

You laughed softly, trying to deflect the weight of the moment. “I think it’s just poorly placed holiday decor.”

Ellie took a small step closer, her expression more serious now, though the smile still lingered on her lips. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.”

The countdown reached five, and the crowd’s cheers grew louder around you, but it all seemed to fade as Ellie’s gaze locked with yours.

“Four…”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but no words came.

“Three…”

Ellie tilted her head slightly, the playful confidence giving way to something more vulnerable.

“Two…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“One…”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

And then Ellie closed the distance, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and full of all the things she’d been holding back for a year.

The room erupted into cheers and laughter, but for a moment, it was just the two of you, standing beneath the mistletoe as the world blurred around you.

Ellie pulled away slowly, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet space that lingered between the two of you. Her eyes searched yours, soft and vulnerable, the playful spark now gone. The weight of the moment hung heavy, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest, a steady beat that seemed to echo in the air around you.

The world outside the bubble you shared felt far away. The warm glow of the lights, the hum of voices and laughter, all faded into a distant memory. It was just the two of you, standing beneath the mistletoe, and the silence between you was as intimate as any words could be.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Ellie whispered, her voice barely audible above the sounds of the room, but to you, it was the only sound that mattered.

You swallowed, your mind spinning with emotions you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully feel. “Ellie…”

She smiled, her fingers brushing against yours, tentative yet familiar. “I know. I know it’s been complicated. But tonight… I couldn’t let it pass by without telling you. Without showing you.”

Your chest tightened, a mixture of emotions flooding your veins. It was like a slow-burning fire, growing warmer with every second that passed. The tension that had been building for so long finally cracked, and in its place was something softer, something fragile, yet full of promise.

"You've never stopped making me feel..." you began, the words coming unbidden. "Like maybe you were right all along."

Ellie’s eyes softened, as if hearing the truth she'd always known. She took a small step back, the tip of her nose grazing yours as she let out a breathless laugh. "I was hoping you'd say that."

The clock struck midnight, and the room burst into applause, but neither of you moved. The world outside was celebrating, but here, beneath the mistletoe, it felt like time had stopped. A single moment that would be etched into your memory, like the twinkling lights above, a reminder that sometimes, love finds its way through the smallest of things.

Ellie’s hand slipped into yours, the simple contact grounding you, pulling you back into reality as her smile softened. “I meant it, you know. I’ve been waiting for you. Just… let me wait a little longer.”

And in that quiet exchange, amidst the noise of the world, you realized that you were no longer standing alone. You were standing with Ellie, beneath the mistletoe, but more than that, you were standing together, and somehow, that made all the difference.

The crisp winter air bit at your skin as you walked side by side with Ellie, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound filling the silence. The lights of the town slowly faded behind you, leaving just the glow of the moon and the stars above. Despite the cold, you found yourself warm beside Ellie, the weight of the kiss still lingering between you like a soft, unspoken promise.

Ellie kept her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, but every now and then, she'd glance at you, her eyes bright, as if she was trying to memorize the way you looked tonight—the way the snow caught in your hair, the way the streetlights cast shadows on your face.

When you reached your doorstep, she paused, her gaze falling to the ground. "I guess this is where I leave you," she said softly, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

You hesitated, the pull of her presence undeniable. The night had been full of quiet, unspoken moments, and you didn’t want it to end just yet. "Ellie..." you began, your voice tentative but sure. "Do you want to come inside for a bit?"

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, you could see the hesitation in her—like she wasn’t sure whether to take that step forward or hold back. But then the corner of her mouth quirked up in that familiar, confident smile, and she nodded.

"I’d like that," she said softly, her voice warm with something that felt both new and familiar.

You stepped aside, letting her in, and as she entered, the warmth of your house seemed to wrap around you both, pushing back the cold of the night. Ellie kicked off her boots by the door and shrugged off her jacket, hanging it on the hook with careful ease.

The soft hum of your house felt soothing, and as you moved into the living room, you gestured toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab something to drink."

Ellie settled into the couch with a deep sigh, her eyes glancing around the room. "It’s nice in here," she said, her voice soft, but her gaze was steady, like she was taking in every little detail.

You nodded, making your way to the kitchen. The silence was peaceful, not awkward, just comfortable in the way only a few people could ever manage to make it feel. You returned with two mugs of tea, the steam rising from them like the warmth of the moment you’d shared only an hour before.

You sat down beside her, the space between you smaller than it had ever been before. As you handed her a mug, your fingers brushed lightly against hers, and for a second, the world outside the room felt miles away.

"I’m glad you came inside," you said, your voice softer than you intended, but it felt right.

Ellie smiled, her gaze flickering toward you for a brief moment before it shifted to the mug in her hands. "I’m glad you asked me to." Her voice held something deeper this time—a quiet sincerity that made your chest tighten with a warmth you hadn’t expected.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The soft crackle of the fire in the corner was the only sound, filling the space between you with its comforting rhythm.

But then Ellie broke the silence, her voice just above a whisper. "I don’t know what happens next... but I’m okay with figuring it out, if you are."

You met her gaze then, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you. You nodded, your heart beating faster now, in a way that felt right, in a way that made everything fall into place.

"Yeah," you said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "I think I’m ready to figure it out."

The quiet between you and Ellie lingered, comfortable and filled with the soft glow of the moment. The warmth of the house, the scent of tea, the flickering light from the fireplace—all of it wrapped around you like a blanket, but nothing compared to the way Ellie’s presence filled the space. It was gentle, but undeniable, like she was the missing piece you didn’t even realize you’d been waiting for.

As you sat there, her eyes kept flicking to you, her lips pressed into a small smile, but there was a tension in her gaze, a quiet intensity. You could feel her wanting to say something, or maybe do something, but the words and actions were both suspended, hanging between the two of you like the very air you breathed.

Then, without warning, Ellie shifted closer. She leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. Her gaze dropped to your lips for a moment, and that subtle movement told you everything you needed to know. The hesitation, the uncertainty, it was all gone. The distance was gone, too. She was right there, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her body, the softness of her touch that you had learned to crave.

Her lips brushed against yours softly at first, like a question, like an invitation. And this time, there was no hesitation from you. You melted into the kiss, your hands moving instinctively to her face. The moment her lips met yours again, something in you shifted—flooded with warmth, with a deep sense of longing that you hadn’t fully realized you were carrying.

Ellie’s hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, her body aligning with yours in perfect rhythm. You could feel the way her heartbeat quickened, the way the world outside seemed to fade away entirely. She was the only thing you could focus on, her warmth, the way she made you feel alive, the way she made everything feel right.

Your hands cupped her face, pulling her closer, as the kiss deepened. Every movement between you felt instinctual, raw, like the way the earth moves without thought. Her lips were soft and sure against yours, coaxing and gentle, as if she knew exactly how to make you feel everything without saying a word.

The world around you faded as you both melted into each other, the kiss a slow dance of longing, of closeness. Time lost meaning as the pull between you intensified, and all you could think about was how perfect it felt to be here, with her. Ellie, the girl who had quietly found a way into your heart without you even realizing it, was now pulling you into her world, and for the first time, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

In that moment, nothing mattered except the feeling of her touch, the warmth of her embrace, and the quiet promise in the way her lips met yours.

Ellie's eyes sparkled with mischief as she gently pushed you back onto the plush couch. Despite the chill outside, the room felt warm and cozy. She crawled on top of you, her body pressing against yours through layers of winter clothing."Mmm, you feel so good," Ellie purred, her lips brushing against your ear. Her hands slid under your sweater, fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

She shifted, straddling your thigh as she captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue teased yours as her hips began a slow, sensual grind against your leg. Even through your pants, you could feel the heat emanating from her core."God, I want you so badly," Ellie breathed, her voice husky with desire. She tugged at the button of your jeans."Can I touch you? Please?"

"Yeah… You can," you breathed, your body arching into Ellie's touch. 

Ellie's fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties.

"You're so beautiful," Ellie murmured, her fingers gliding through your slick folds."Does this feel good, baby?"

Her thumb found your clit, circling it gently as her other hand pushed your sweater up, exposing your bra. Ellie's eyes darkened with lust as she gazed down at you.

"God, you're beautiful," she whispered, lowering her head to place open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. "I want to taste every inch of you."

Ellie's fingers continued their sensual exploration, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body. Her touch was electric, igniting every nerve ending."You feel amazing," you gasped, your hips rocking against her hand. "Don't stop..."

Ellie's eyes locked with yours, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Oh, I'm just getting started," she purred. 

Her fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance before slowly sliding inside. You moaned at the delicious stretch, your inner walls clenching around her digits.

"That's it," Ellie encouraged, her voice husky with desire. "Does that feel okay?"

She began a steady rhythm, her thumb still circling your clit as her fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot. The couch creaked softly beneath you as your body writhed in pleasure.

"Ellie," you whimpered, your hands gripping her shoulders. "Oh god, Ellie..."

Ellie's fingers continued their passionate exploration, her movements becoming more intense as she felt your body responding. She curled her fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars."Fuck, you’re gorgeous" Ellie groaned, her breath hot against your ear."I love how wet you are for me."

Her thumb pressed harder against your clit, circling it with quick, precise movements. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly in your core.

"I want to taste you," Ellie whispered, her voice dripping with lust. "Can I use my mouth on you?"

Without waiting for an answer, she began kissing her way down your body. Her free hand pushed your sweater up further, exposing your breasts. Ellie's tongue flicked over your nipple through the fabric of your bra, making you gasp."Ellie, please," you whimpered, your hips bucking against her hand.

She grinned wickedly, slowly withdrawing her fingers from your pussy. You whined at the loss, but Ellie quickly shimmied down your body, positioning herself between your legs.

"I've got you," she purred, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your jeans and panties.

Ellie slowly tugged your jeans and panties down, her eyes darkening with desire as she revealed your glistening pussy. She licked her lips, her hot breath teasing your sensitive flesh."God, you’re beautiful," Ellie murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns on your inner thighs."You’re perfect."

Without further preamble, she leaned in, her tongue flattening against your slick folds. You gasped at the sensation, your hips instinctively arching up to meet her mouth. Ellie moaned appreciatively, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

Her tongue explored every inch of you, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks against your clit. Your hands tangled in her hair, guiding her movements as pleasure built within you.

"Fuck, Ellie," you whimpered, your thighs trembling. "Feels so good..."

Ellie's response was to redouble her efforts, her lips wrapping around your clit as she sucked gently. Two fingers slid inside you once more, curling to hit that perfect spot as she pleasured you with her mouth.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming.

All the things that had consumed your thoughts—the age gap, the judgment you might face, the whispers in a small town where everyone knew everyone’s business—faded into nothingness. You, a nurse in your late twenties, admired and respected in the community, and Ellie Williams, a 21-year-old college student with ambition and fire in her eyes. For so long, the idea of being with her felt like a risk too great to take.

But now, as you sink into the couch, all of that worry dissolves. Her touch is a balm to your overthinking mind, her presence grounding you in the here and now. Every careful brush of her fingers, every dance of her tongue, reminds you of how alive she makes you feel. And as she continues to lavish you, the world outside ceases to matter. All you can think about is her—Ellie—and how effortlessly she makes all your fears disappear.

She continued her relentless exploration, her free hand gliding up your chest with purpose before squeezing gently, igniting a trail of warmth in its wake. Her tongue, soft yet commanding, danced against you, pulling you deeper into the moment, leaving no room for anything but her.

She doesn’t stop, her fingers pumping inside, her tongue making your pussy feel good, building you up until you finally come undone, breathless and trembling. 

Ellie catches you effortlessly, her hold firm yet gentle, pulling you close against her chest. The glow of the Christmas lights dances across her face as she looks down at you, her eyes soft with adoration.

"God," she murmurs, her fingers brushing through your hair. "You’re so beautiful. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this."

Her words are a balm, soothing every doubt and fear you’d held onto. “The whole year, you know? I’ve been waiting for you to give me an answer. And you were worth every second.” She presses a kiss to your forehead, her lips warm and lingering.

Her arms wrap around you tighter, pulling you further into her embrace. "This... this is all I wanted for Christmas," she whispers, her voice full of raw honesty. "You’re my Christmas wish come true."

You let out a soft laugh, your chest still heaving as you lean into her warmth. She tilts your chin up, her eyes sparkling with something deeper than desire. "So," she says, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, "what do you say we make this official? A proper date. Just you and me. No hiding, no excuses. What do you think?"

[inacteveny]

Ranting about Millie's pregnancy

The whole "justify the cheating because they're gay" critique is debatable, since it's not exactly confirmed if the ex-boyfriend did cheat. But the "Millie getting pregnant because Vivienne doesn't know what to do her character" critique is pretty valid.

The so-called hints throughout the season that supposedly show that Millie could be pregnant can just be easily interpreted as "Millie just being Millie", it's just her nature to be THAT mad, or THAT wholesome, or whatever. Not in any way shape or form was there any foreshadowing of this twist.

Not only is it such a lazy twist because of the lack of foreshadowing beforehand (please prove me wrong if there actually is), it also shows that Vivienne doesn't understand what made Ghostfuckers such a good episode for Millie.

Brandon Rogers while writing that episode knew that he didn't need to pull such a lazy narrative decision for one of the most underused main characters in the show just so critics could shut the fuck up. No, instead he understood that what Millie simply needed more screentime. Easy peezy lemon squeezy, just flesh out her character, show us her backstory a little bit, make sure she serves an important part of the episode and isn't just "Moxxie's wife." all the time, that she is really one of the most important people in Blitzo's life.

Brandon knew all he needed to do for Millie in that episode was make her matter, simple. Vivienne doesn't understand that. She'd rather make one of the laziest and overused plot twists to the most underused main protagonist in the show just so us critics can shut the fuck up about Millie being done dirty all season, but that's exactly what Vivienne did anyway because of this.

No foreshadowing whatsoever. Lack of understanding of why Ghostfuckers was such a good episode for both the stars Blitz, Millie and I.M.P as a whole. Lazy as Garfield ahh twist for the most underused main protagonist in the entire show. Overall, boring, disappointing, lazy, and maybe even annoying. It's clear Vivienne pulled this out of her ass just to wrap a weak bandage around the wasted potential of Millie this season.

I might watch one or two episodes of Season 3, but I have zero faith in it being good, because Lord have mercy on Vivienne handling this lazyass plot point well.

Thanks for reading my rant on why I don't like what Vivienne did to one of my favorite characters in this dumb show. This is J levels of being done dirty, but hey, at least Liam Vickers is a much better writer than Viv anyway.

[hellfireloserclub]

For @kaspurrcat . Happy seasonal whatever it is you celebrate at this time of year ! Hope you enjoy your @steddieexchange fic !

Read it on ao3 here

Eddie didn't have a soulmate. He was almost certain of it.

He was almost twenty-two, most soulmates met or crossed paths way before they turned twenty-one.

If he had a soulmate, wouldn't they have shown up by now?

He was pretty sure your soulmate was supposed to show themselves in a near death situation? At this point he was pretty well versed in that department.

He had seen the light. The pearly gates had been calling. He had sacrificed himself for the greater good and all that bullshit, and if you were to believe Wayne, that was a one-way ticket to nirvana.

But the big guy upstairs had kicked him back to the mortal realm with little to no ceremony. He had followed the voices, like a good boy. You know the way they had preached each Sunday at church when he was knee high to a grasshopper. But instead of fluffy clouds and dudes playing harps, the voices had led him back to the blood red skies of the Upside Down.

Maybe he hadn't gotten a free pass after all.

Waking up in Steve Harrington's arms once was an anomaly, his stupidly honest big brown eyes pleading for Eddie to be alright. It wasn’t the worst experience in the world, at least someone other than Dustin had been there to put his insides back in the right place.

The second time Eddie came back from the dead under Steve Harrington's capable hands, it was just getting weird.

Harrington was like a cockroach; you couldn't kill him, but did he have to always be there when Eddie was on the brink of death?

The pair of them really needed to stop jumping head first into lovers lake, it never ended well for either of them. It was getting to where he was pretty sure his near-death experiences were more near Steve experiences these days.

Now if you were to believe the textbooks and the mushy romance novels… the love of Eddie's life should have been the one to bring him back from the brink.

Not Steve ‘king of the hair’ Harrington.

So in Eddie's defense, he was pretty sure that his soulmate just didn't exist.

She would have turned up by now right? Some universal bond tying him to the earthly realm.

He would have some sort of mark, something that tied them together, but he didn't.

All he had was scars.

Scars, nightmares, and a Knight in denim armor in the form of Steve Harrington. Someone he now got to count as one of his closest friends.

So when anyone asked him about it -why he still hasn't found his other half- he told them it didn't matter. Because it really didn't. The world was a big place, there was every chance your soulmate didn't even live in the same town, city, state… hell they might not even live on the same continent.

So it didn't matter. Eddie didn't have a soulmate. Eddie didn't care.

Only he did.

Ever since he came back from the dead the second time, (He really hoped he wouldn't have to make it a third time and that this time Vecna really stayed dead) Eddie had become obsessed with the concept of soulmates. Fascinated by the way the universe decided who was the other half of your soul and how that bond manifested. He had notebook after notebook on the subject. Read every book he could get his hands on copying paragraph after paragraph into his swooping scrawl.

He observed the people in his life like they were a nature documentary, then when his brain had processed the information he recorded it in his notes.

If he had been this thorough in high school, he might have graduated first time around.

He watched as Hopper and Joyce re-connected a soul bond that had formed back when they were teens.

Joyce would regale them whenever she got a drink in her hand, that something had pulled her to keep looking for Hopper when he disappeared. Not that same drive that had made everyone think she was crazy when Will disappeared, it was something else. It was the feeling of being tugged in a direction but not knowing where to go. A buzz in her mind that told her that Hop wasn't dead. It was the same feeling she had back when they Upside Down had come knocking the first time, but this time it was tenfold.

(Eddie wished he had someone who would always keep looking for him, it would be nice not to feel lost )

Lucas had instinctively known what Max had needed all the way through her time in the hospital, even when she was three floors above them and deep in a coma.

In her time of healing, he formed the echoes of her wounds and ever since any minor cut or blemish showed on the others skin when they hurt themselves.

Max learning to skate again had ended up with Lucas looking like he had fallen out of a tree. But he wore his bruises and scrapes with pride and they faded a lot faster than the ones that the car park had created outside of Maldives.

(The only wounds that showed on his skin these days were paper cuts from all his notebooks and the occasional burn to the tip of his finger. His mind wandered when he smoked and he must burn them down to the filter more often than he noticed. )

Nancy and Jonathan had manufactured soul marks, twin cuts on their palms that had been their own doing, a bond made rather than given, born through trauma and blood. Since they had reunited that bond had grown stronger.

It must have sucked to be Harrington, Eddie had been routing for him. As far as Eddie could see Steve was head over heels for Nancy, at least he had been back then.

But Jon and Nancy’s bond is forged in blood. The strongest of the soul bonds, made from sacrifice. Sure Steve had thrown himself in front of the jaws of death a million times, but not in the same way as Nancy and Jon had that first time.

(Eddie thought about it every time he looked at the scar on his arm from when he and Steve had cut themselves to lure the Demodogs away from the hospital and towards lovers lake. He still can’t believe his stupid plan worked. He had been in no fit state to be trying to run for his life again, but had been back on his feet enough to lure the drooling monsters away from Max’s door. But it had worked, and it had worked well. Right until something pulled him and Steve to the bottom of the lake again, but Eddie's plans rarely had an exit strategy, getting out was an afterthought.)

Eddie had wondered why the trauma that Robin and Steve went through hadn’t marked them. Normally five drinks deep and high as a kite he would ask them, the weird little third wheel that he was.

But whenever Eddie brought it up Steve would go quiet, and Robin would tell Eddie that when you only had one brain between you both, sharing a soul wouldn’t be the best idea.

Steve would get fidgety and rub absentmindedly at his neck, then mutter about soulmates being ridiculous, anyway. He rubbed that scar a lot, whenever he was nervous, whenever he was deep in thought.

Eddie wondered if it tingled and itched the way his own did, late at night when he was lying alone and pining for something he didn't seem to have.

Maybe notorious ladies’ man Harrington had the same problem as Eddie?

It wasn't unheard of to lose a soulmate, and Hawkins had a high body count.

Wayne had never met the other half of his soul, that little tug of fate had never come calling and Wayne was fine, Wayne was happy. At least that's what Eddie thought, it was sometimes hard to read his old man's expression and because he was a man of few words; it wasn't like they were ever going to go all deep and meaningful over it.

But just this once Eddie felt like he would like to be normal. He was getting kind of sick and tired of being the anomaly. He could deal with being the freak, but on his terms. When it came to this, to the matter of his very soul, it would be nice to be a little sheepee instead of the big bad wolf.

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

Eddie flexed his arm in the breakroom mirror, his new ink had healed nicely.

Gareth had suggested a trip into the big city when he was back from college for Thanksgiving, and who was Eddie to deny one of his oldest friends anything?

It was an act of split second decision to swing into the tattoo parlor. Garath wanted, and Eddie was weak willed and easily led.

The guy had done a good job; he left with his bats touched up and looking a lot less like they had been chewed up by the demonic version of their best selves. The stick and poke version was long gone, replaced by the forking tails of the beasts that had given him the gnarly flesh wounds he was now trying to make a distant memory.

It was nice to look in the mirror and not instantly be reminded of skin grafts and trauma, to see bits of himself rising to the surface.

Yeah maybe the bats had been a bit on the nose, but he had read enough Batman comics to learn to embrace the thing that scared him.

It was helping to hold on to at least one bit of his own identity. He was not enjoying being part of the corporate grind, even if that corporate grind was lugging boxes around and stacking shelves in Family Video alongside Steve. Battle vest traded in for the forest green monstrosity that did nothing for his complexion.

The only thing it had going for it was the fact that he could wear whatever the hell he liked under the thing as long as he toned it down when head office showed up.

After all, he was friends with the boss.

Life was serene when Steve was the boss, especially when he was willing to rotate the staff around Hellfire, important Party business and Eddie’s inability to function on anything that looked or acted like a schedule.

Right now the man in question was watching him from the door, arms crossed in irritation as he tapped his foot in agitation.

“You look hot Munson, Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in a work vest, now can we please, get a move on.” Steve bitched as he checked the time on his watch again.

“Buckley isn’t back for at least another hour and a half, what's the rush sweetheart?” Eddie said over his shoulder as he pulled his sweater back down over his hands and threw his vest in the staff's corner room where it would have to rot till his next shift.

“We have to pick up the tree from Hoppers before we go get her and I wanted to catch my parents before they fly out to my Gran’s for the holidays-”

“They leaving you here again?” Eddie asked sceptically, as he pulled on his jacket, not that he didn’t like the Harrington's; they had been nothing but nice to him. He just wished that once in a while they would put Steve before whatever flight of fancy his mother took, or the business trips his dad couldn’t be trusted to take alone.

“I told them I didn’t want to go, I haven’t seen Robin in over a month, and I have work. Pair that with the fact that I really can’t be bothered with my Gran lecturing me on how disappointed she is in me I took the get out of jail free card . This way I get to see your cheerful face throughout this festive season.” Steve said, patting Eddie on both cheeks.

Steve had a way of getting under Eddie's skin like nobody else, if anyone else tried to baby him like this he would bite them. Verbally or physically depending on who it was, although he did try to rein in his strangeness these days, at least in public, but not around Steve, he snapped after Steve's fingers as he pulled them away.

“Yeah, but now… I get to feel guilty about the fact you're rocking around that great big house of yours on your own on the big day, baby… pretty thing like you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas.” Eddie said as he followed Steve towards the door. Getting as close as he dares to really irritate the man. It was too early to close the store, they both knew that, but who was going to tell them off? Steve?

Trying to irritate him didn’t work, as soon as they were at the door Steve halted and Eddie plowed right into his back, causing the other man to laugh and reach out and steady him.

“Careful.” Steve said as he reached around him to flip the sign, pulled his packet of Malbrough out of his pocket and gently pushed Eddie out the door.

It was a well-practiced thing now, the first smoke at the end of the shift. If they were picking up Robin soon, it might be the last one Steve had for a while. Robin’s wrath at them smoking around her wasn’t worth the nicotine fix.

Eddie watched as the other man went through his routine, lighting two cigarettes in his own mouth then passing one to Eddie, he let Steve place it between his lips no questions asked.

Steve seemed to mill something over in his mind as he took his first deep huff of smoke.

“I’m not going to be alone, I’ll be at Henderson’s, just like you no doubt, because I’m sure as hell that Uncle Wayne refused to take the day off.”

“Stubborn as a mule, and just as predictable.” Eddie grumbled.

“Uncle Wayne or you?” Steve asked, blowing small smoke circles in the air. The sight momentarily hypnotized Eddie, unable to take his eyes away from the way Steve twisted his tongue to get the shapes right.

“You don’t have to call him Uncle, we've been through this.” Eddie groused as he ashed his own cigarette, before opening his side of the truck and climbing behind the driver's seat.

“Yeah I know, but he won’t let me call him Sir and he keeps telling me if I call him Mr. Munson, I’m not allowed in the apartment.” Steve lamented as they drove out of the car park and turned towards the forest. “I know for a fact that Mama Claudia would never leave you and Wayne out when she invited all the strays around for lunch, because she’s incapable of not looking after a lost cause.”

“Does this mean I have to get you a gift?” Eddie asked as they idled at a red light, the snow falling slowly outside adding an element of whimsy to the traitorous conditions. He took his last draw of his smoke and stubbed it out in his ashtray, eyes half on the road, half on his closest friend in the passenger seat. He looked good today, all ruddy cheeked and wind swept, even if his signature hair hid underneath a black wool hat that he had stolen from Eddie last time he was at the apartment.

“You mean you haven’t already?” Steve pouted from the passenger seat, angel and bastard all rolled into one being. “I thought I was a kept man?”

“Whores will have their trinkets.” Eddie lamented and Steve punched him in the arm.

“Strong words when you're the only one who’s had a date in months.” Steve grumbled waving his cigarette around in Eddie’s direction. It was almost burned to the filter, and Eddie wondered if Steve was determined to enjoy every bit before Robin got here, or if he had just forgotten he was smoking it like usual.

“Failed date’s Harrington. Failed dates. I’m an accused murderer, at least I have an excuse for striking out. What’s your excuse?” God the light was taking forever to change, Eddie rubbed his hand along the raised bumps of his steering wheel, the action burning friction to the tips of his fingers, the warmth welcomed against the bitterness of the snow.

“I’m just not interested? I dunno, I just…” Steve trailed off, rubbing absentmindedly at his right arm. “Maybe I’m just caught up on something I can’t have, keep sabotaging myself before I’ve even gotten them out the front door.”

“You got your eye on someone?” Eddie asked. Steve had mentioned no one recently, he hadn’t even really tried to hit on any of the women that clearly were flirting with him when they came into the store.

“Is it someone I know?”

“He is yeah.” Steve said quietly, so quiet Eddie was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it.

Steve made a fuss of stubbing out his cigarette, raising his hand to his mouth where he had ignited the filter and it had caught his skin. It was quick and Eddie almost missed it but Steve looked over to him as Eddie inhaled quickly, a warmth spreading through him he couldn’t quite put a finger on, even if that was where it had started.

“He?” he asked carefully, aware that how he handled this was going to make or break this strange friendship that both he and Steve had cultivated. He didn’t want Steve to think he was about to punch him in the face.

“He.” Steve said again, rubbing at his arm with a little more persistence. “But you know, small town Indiana. So the chance of him liking me back? It’s like the chances of something coming from Mars…so what? A million to one? So like…” He waved his hand about weakly. This wasn’t the time to point out that Steve had definitely been spending too much time with him and Dustin.

“So is he like… You know.. Your soulmate?” Eddie asked, wishing the light would hurry and change color so he could make himself concentrate on the road.

“I had a feeling he was. But it was sort of confirmed the other week. But who knows, maybe I’m just clutching at straws. I don’t think he knows, or if he does, he's said nothing.” Steve said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Maybe he knows and just doesn't care, that’s always an option.”

That made something twist in Eddie’s stomach, he had been so sure that Steve, like himself, was destined not to find his soulmate. But knowing that he had found him, and they didn't want him back?

It was making Eddie’s insides knot with jealousy and rage and he didn’t like the taste of it on his tongue.

“Maybe he’s scared? Or maybe he’s just an idiot, or he just hasn’t released? I mean Maybe he’s not looking for a dude? Although I dunno, how anyone could spend five minutes with you and not love you Stevie. You just need to turn on that Harrington charm right?” Eddie asked as the lights finally changed color and he could drag his eyes away from the worried expression that was plastered on Steve’s face now.

“I've tried, he's oblivious.” Steve said weakly, he sounded so defeated it was making Eddie’s heart ache.

This was why Eddie had given up, he never wanted to sound that sad over something that was outside of his own control.

He chanced a glance in Steve’s direction; he was chewing on his finger now, red from the burn and now the irritation of Steve’s tongue and lips.

“It doesn’t bother you… that I’m…that I like…”

“That, you like dicks?” Eddie asked, almost unable to keep the nervous laughter out of his voice. He didn’t have a problem with it, it had just thrown him, he hadn’t expected it from ladies’ man Steve.

“Dunno never tried it. I was gonna say dudes, but you just gotta make it weird right?” Steve said with a depreciated laugh. Eddie couldn’t let that slide. Steve was a saint, he didn’t get to belittle himself, not on Eddie’s watch.

“King of the freaks, remember? It’s my job to be weird, it happens by default. Anyway, who am I to ever stop anyone from being the best version of themself? Plus, if you’re gay that means more women for me right?” Eddie said, focusing on trying to find the turnoff to Hoppers through the now dense falling snow.

“Not gay.” Steve said as he tapped him on the arm and pointed to the turn in the road that Eddie had almost missed.

“You just told me your soulmate is a dude and that you like dicks…. Sounds pretty gay to me Stevie.” Eddie reasoned as carefully turned onto the wood-lined drive to the Hoppers- Byers cabin.

“You know you can like both women and men right?” Steve asked quietly as he zipped his coat tighter at the sight of Hopper and Jane waiting for them with a pre-cut tree. “There’s a word for it, but we all know how bad I am with words. Robin will be able to tell you later, but yeah.. Whatever that is? That's me, so, I just…” Steve seemed to sink into himself more lost in the many folds of his oversized jacket.

Eddie said nothing as he parked up. Processing what Steve had just told him? Both? That creature that lived in him paced, trying to process this new knowledge. Eddie tried to soothe it, this wasn’t the time, he could look at that new information later when Steve wasn’t spilling his heart out to him in a snowstorm.

They were both about to get out when he reached over and grabbed Steve’s arm, warmth running through him when Steve didn’t pull away.

“Thankyou for telling me, you didn’t have to-”

“-But I wanted to.” Steve said with a weak smile as he stepped out into the building storm.

*********

Robin and Steve had fallen straight into that silent communication that Eddie still didn't get but reluctantly admitted was kind of cute in a twisted way.

He preferred no words better than the hushed conversations the two of them were having in the back seat, keeping voices low so the sound of the truck kept their secrets.

After their earlier conversation, he and Steve hadn’t really circled back around to the earth shattering revelation that Steve’s soulmate was a guy.

It felt like with this new knowledge about Steve, Eddie’s world view was changing.

To be fair, his world view had changed a lot since 86, that ladies’ man Steve also liked guys was really pretty far down on the list of life shattering revelations.

Yet Eddie was confused why the thought of it was giving him palpitations. The idea was sitting heavily in his chest and in his head and it was just as well he had to keep his eyes on the road because he knew if he didn’t he was likely to dwell on his new factoid and spiral down a rabbit hole he wasn’t sure he would get out of soon.

Every so often Eddie would glance at the two people in the back seat, covertly of course, the wonder of the rear-view mirror.

Steve was showing Robin something, his body twisted so that Eddie couldn’t make out what it was. He couldn't make out what they were saying with a quirk of the eyebrow and a knowing glance, no matter how good he had gotten at reading the expressions of the two weirdos behind him.

Was Steve telling Robin the thing that had confirmed to Steve that the person he thought was his soulmate was actually his soulmate?

Eddie turned the music up to give the two of them more privacy.

Steve would share his revelation with him when he was ready. If he was ever ready to.

As he turned towards Loch Nora, Eddie felt the mood change in the car.

That ache was back, it sat heavy in his chest, a longing for something he couldn’t have.

He couldn't work out why it snuck up on him like this, more and more when he least expected it.

When he glanced in the mirror again Steve was watching him. Robin curled into his side as she talked animatedly.

It was easy to see why people thought the two of them were a couple, joined at the hip, mirrors of each other in almost every way, now that Steve liked guys, that just added to the reflection.

“I heard dingus told you his good news?” Robin asked, leaning forward and resting herself between the two front chairs. It would annoy Eddie that one of them hadn’t just rode up front with him. But he knew the two of them had to fuze together as soon as possible when reunited, and it really wouldn’t have been safe for both of them to squash themselves into the front seat, at least not with the snow coming down like it was now.

“The whole, doubling his chances of absolutely foul balling his relationships?” Eddie asked as they passed the now entering Hawkins sign. “Yeah, he mentioned it.”

“And?”

“And what? I don’t have an issue with it if that’s what you're asking?”

“So you are cool with him being Bisexual-”

“That’s it Bisexual! How the hell did I not remember that?” Steve complained from the back seat.

“Doesn’t bother me what or who he sticks his dick in, or you know… the other way around.” Eddie had to really concentrate not to swerve the car as Robin smacked him in the arm. HARD.

In the back seat Steve yelped, Eddie figured Robin must have kicked him or something, but he couldn’t see past Robin in his rear-view mirror.

“Why are you both so revolting? Like seriously, what did I do to be stuck with the pair of you?”

“You love us both Bucks, don’t be giving us that.” Eddie reprimanded.

“God, you are like a bonded pair now. How am I supposed to prosper in this kind of environment?” Robin grumbled, throwing herself back into the back seat with a huff. “Why has the universe cursed me with two absolute numbskulls as best friends?”

“Hey! Less of the numbskulls.” Steve complained. “My dumbness is all the concussions. I’m sure you have plenty of opportunities to prosper at all the wild parties you go to. Not my fault you left me to spread your wild oats or whatever it is you get up to in that fancy school of yours.”

“You would know what I get up to if you ever ventured further than Indianapolis.” Robin sniped back. “But you two seem to have made roots here. When was the last time the two of you went over three days without seeing each other?”

“We work together Robs, I don't think that's fair…” Steve started arguing, but Eddie had turned his attention back to the road, the snow was coming down harder now, it gave him time to think about Robin's question.

When was the last time the two of them had spent more than three days apart?

Maybe when Wayne and Eddie had gone on that fishing trip?

Sometimes Eddie spent more time with Steve than he did with Wayne, and they still lived together.

Often when Steve's parents were away, Eddie would crash at Steve’s house, wherever they landed was where they slept. He had shared a bed with Steve Harrington more times than any other living being.

Hu? Now he thought about it, maybe he really was permanently in Steve’s space. He really had fallen into the gap that Robin had left behind that easily. Her old job, her place at Steve's side, her place in Steve's bed.

Eddie had never been like that with any of his other friends as far as he could remember. Maybe when he was little and Wayne had let him sleep over at Jeff's, but they had slept top to tail.

But the first time Steve had grunted at him to ‘just stay put man,’ when he had moved to get up and move himself to the guest room, Eddie hadn’t fought it, he had just settled back in and let Steve get comfortable against his side again.

Steve needed it. Eddie knew he wasn't sleeping well again. And after that first time it had just been a thing that happened. He hadn't questioned it .

Maybe Robin had a point.

Steve had become such an integral part of Eddie’s routine and he hadn’t even noticed it happening.

That led to the question: who was the mysterious man who had imprinted on Steve and left his mark? Because Eddie would have to be aware of them right? If they were always together it wasn’t like a stranger had walked in and whisked him off his feet.

The mysterious man of Steve's dreams itched like an irritation that Eddie couldn't quite reach, and when he looked in the rearview again, it didn’t surprise him to see Steve staring back at him.

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

“Season’s greetings and salutations.” Eddie said as he darted into the kitchen to get the dustpan and brush to pick up the pine leaves trailing from the front door to the corner next to the fire.

Mr. Harrington looked every bit his son when he shook his head and the small smile creeped upon his face, it was a testament to how often Eddie was in the house that the older man hadn’t even questioned his presence in his humble abode.

Not that you could call the Harrington home humble, it was every bit the show home that Steve’s mom had intended it to be. Mrs. Harrington would have a conniption if she ever visited Wayne’s place, the only interior design magazine that had ever entered the place was being used to prop up the corner of the wonky coffee table.

Ironically, it was the one that featured Mrs. Harrington on page three with her newest grand design.

Perks of being married to an editor, Eddie supposed. But hey, if it stopped him losing his cereal to the floor in the morning it had its uses.

“I thought you were both on the close tonight?” Mr. Harrington asked as Eddie grabbed the cleaning things.

“We were.” He started, and the rest came out in a rush as he rummaged through the cupboard for cleaning stuff, but Richard Harrington seemed to keep up. “But you're leaving tonight and Steve wanted to see you before you left and we had to pick up Robin from the bus station, ‘cause her parents aren't back until ten. There was no way I was letting Steve try to drive the Beemer in this. And then I was roped into getting the tree from Hoppers with him, because that couldn’t have waited till tomorrow, and him and Robin have left a trail of destruction in their wake,” Eddie waved the brush around to show his intentions and the reason for his rush of words, “So you know, I’m left to tidy up that mess… and that’s why, if anyone from head office calls, the snow took the power out.”

Richard Harrington had a pleasant laugh, sweet like honey, another thing he shared with his son. That Eddie had noticed that made the twisting in his chest churn again.

He really needed to look at that a bit more. It couldn't be good.

“I take it that if I walk into my lounge I'm going to be bombarded with Christmas cheer?” He asked, the grin getting bigger.

“Alas, just a naked tree, apparently your grandchildren need to be present to festoon its mighty branches with glitter and gold.” Eddie said sagely. “And that I believe is my punishment tomorrow as I think I’ve displeased his lordship.”

“Ah, just as well Lenore stocked the candy and soda up for the festivities.” Richard said sagely as he sipped his coffee. Eddie knew what was coming next, it was Richard Harrington’s current new obsession. “Have you thought about writing that book yet?”

“Ah, Mr. H, you know I can't spell for shit…”

“And I keep telling you that's what one of my editors is for. Tell me you will at least think about it again over Christmas?” Richard asked, and oh great. There was that pleading look Steve used to get Eddie to do a lot of the heavy lifting. It wasn't as effective when it was blue eyes doing the requesting, it was easier to say no to Richard.

“I'll think about it.” Eddie said as the sound of Mrs. Harrington descending the stairs caused Richard to jump to his feet.

“Good, I just want Steve's-” he cut himself off looking sheepish. It was another one of Steve's traits that he shared with his dad, no brain to mouth filter, Steve was always putting his foot in his mouth, especially around the kids.

Still, Eddie really wanted to know what was at the end of that sentence.

“Steve's what?” Eddie asked just as Lenore Harrington joined them in the kitchen trailing a suitcase behind her that her husband was quick to take off her hands so he could ignore Eddie's question.

“Oh hello Eddie dear, did I hear Steve and Robin?” Lenore asked with a quick hug as she passed en route to the lounge, she didn’t wait for an answer as she sashayed past with an elegance that Steve had not inherited.

“Lenore’s mother is a bit of a drama queen,” Richard said as he followed Eddie and his brush to the hallway. “She’s been on the phone several times already tonight asking us to try to convince Steve and his lovely young lady to come with us.” he explained as Eddie swept up the fallen pine leaves.

“By young lady, I take it she means Robin?” Eddie asked as Richard added the case to the pile by the door.

“Yes. She’s rather old-fashioned Steven’s grandmother, I don’t think she really understands the dynamic between the two of them. She nearly had a heart attack when I moved her precious socialite daughter to Hawkins of all places.” Richard said with a little chuckle to himself. “I keep trying to convince her to come visit, she never does, I would love to see her face when she meets you.”

Eddie didn’t know how to take that, unsure if it was meant as an insult or a complement. Mr. Harrington didn’t seem to notice though as he followed Eddie as he swept the entire trail of pine needles away.

“Dad, are you trying to get Eddie to sign to your label again?” Steve asked as he broke free of his mother’s hug. Evidently the conversation had carried from the kitchen, either that or Steve’s mother was whispering in his ear again.

“Just looking after my future interests Steven. Eddie has talent and he would be an excellent addition to the Harrington family, or do the two of you really intend on spending the prime of your life negotiating late fees for someone else's business?”

“I’m happy if you are Eds?” Steve said as he gave his dad a quick hug, “Some of us aren’t built for jet setting around the world. Well, I’m sure, given half the chance Eddie would be off like a shot as long as it involved his guitar-,”

“I’d always have room for you as my glamorous assistant Stevie, you know this.” Eddie said as he brushed around the base of the tree where the worst of the needles had fallen.

“See what I mean? You can’t separate them, you know, a bit like freezer burned burgers or that weird black mold in the back of the fridge.” Robin piped up from her perch on the end of the sofa. “The longer I’m away, the more tragic their bond becomes.” She lamented, popping a marshmallow in her mouth and chewing it, never once dropping her menacing smile.

Lenore laughed as she pulled on her big winter coat. “Last chance to change your mind, you and Eddie are welcome to join us?”

“See, even you are treating them like a unit. I feel like I’ve been replaced. Have I been replaced, Steve?” Robin huffed as Steve dropped on the sofa next to her, he shot her with a loaded look, and Eddie suddenly felt like whatever conversation the two of them had been having in the car needed to be continued, possibly louder and possibly involving a fair bit of bitching.

Eddie was not stupid enough to get caught in the crossfire of that.

“As much as I appreciate the offer of getting out of dodge for the festive season, Wayne likes to have me about, and I feel like Mr. Harrington needs a few days off trying to wrangle his next big book deal.” Eddie said, handing the dustpan and brush to Steve to finish what Eddie had started.

“Speaking of Wayne, I should get home, I want to see him before he goes on to shift, so I better hit the road.”

Eddie couldn’t read the expression on Steve’s face, but he could tell that Robin was biting her lip to hold back whatever was on her mind. No doubt he was going to get sounded out as soon as he turned up at Steve’s tomorrow. There was no point in fighting the inevitable.

Eddie grabbed his coat and followed Mr. and Mrs. Harrington out to the cars, helping with the bags like the good little boy scout he was.

“Eddie?” Mr. Harrington asked just as he turned to jump back in his truck. Eddie spun on the spot, no matter how much he got on with the Harrington’s he was still deep down aware of the class divide. Permanently torn between needing to fight the hierarchy and knowing that there wasn’t a threat.

“Yeah, Mr. H?” Eddie asked as he pulled his coat tighter around himself.

Richard stepped closer, making sure that his wife couldn’t see him from the car.

“Can you keep an eye on Steve over the next few days? Something’s been up with him these last few weeks and he won’t tell me or his mother what it is.” He asked, and it made Eddie feel a little worried that Steve’s dad was coming to him out of all of his friends to watch him.

“I mean, Robin is back, she will get whatever it is out of him-” Eddie started, not wanting to share the secret that Steve had shared with him, not if Steve hadn’t shared it with his parents yet.

“But you know him best. Just, I don’t know, maybe he will tell you what’s wrong?” Richard said, gripping him on the shoulder and giving it a tight fatherly squeeze.

For the second time that night, Eddie felt like the rug was being pulled out from under him. First Steve telling him about his soulmate and now Richard Harrington saying that Eddie knew Steve best? Robin was right there, and when Steve’s soulmate finally made himself known the two of them would probably descend in the ranks. Although Eddie very much doubted that he would ever outrank Robin in that department.

“Yeah, alright, I will talk to him.” Eddie agreed, the feeling of being watched itched at him. His scar on his neck aching slightly with the cold. “You best get going if this snow gets worse they might ground the flight.”

“True, very true.” Richard said, moving his hand away, waving towards the house as he stepped back to the car. “Merry Christmas Eddie. Think about that book again please.” He said as he got in the car.

When the engine started Eddie moved away to get in his own truck, but not before looking back to the house to see who had been on the receiving end of the wave.

Steve stood in the window, backlit by the harsh overhead light, but it was clear to see he was watching Eddie, his hand resting against his neck.

They held eye contact for a moment before Steve waved and pulled the curtains shut.

Whatever that was about, Eddie would not look at it too hard right now.

Right now he needed to get home to Wayne, then later he could unpack the cluster fuck that had been the last twelve hours.

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

Ever since Eddie had been old enough to fend for himself over Christmas, Wayne had taken the crap shifts over the holidays. The money was better, often double or triple time, and the two of them weren’t exactly in a place to say no to that back in the day. Now Wayne did the shifts so that the people with little kids could have it off, because that was just the sort of self sacrificing fool that the guy was. After all, Eddie had to get it from someone.

So Wayne had left him in the early hours of Christmas Eve, and Eddie had all the intentions in the world of getting himself to bed and maybe getting some much needed sleep.

Unfortunately, Eddie’s mind had other ideas.

He had finally nodded off just after 6am, his books and notebooks scattered around him as he went through all his notes on soulmates trying to itch that scratch in his brain that was triggered earlier by Steve in the car.

He couldn’t work out how Steve could have met his soulmate, not if he was close enough to them to have confirmed his suspicions in the last few weeks. He was pretty sure that was the strangeness that Mr. Harrington had noticed, and now Eddie was trying to work out if he had seen Steve acting weird around anyone they knew.

Eddie had run through every interaction that they'd had with people since thanksgiving. Maybe it was the new delivery driver? He was cute, if you were into the blond hair and blue eye’s thing. He had muscular arm’s and with all the lifting he did day in day out, and he looked like he was probably a jock in high school. Maybe that was Steve’s type?

What was Steve’s type, anyway? Now that Eddie was looking at it, he wasn’t even sure Steve had a type he jumped around between the Molly Ringwalds and the Sigourney Weaver of this world, but did that apply to guys too?

Was it Jeff? It was a possibility he supposed; they had hung out a bit recently, but Eddie was pretty sure that Jeff was head over ass for the girl that worked at the drive in.

Maybe it was the guy that worked the ticket booth at the drive in? The punk guy that got Eddie's heckles up every time he lent his slutty little waist up against the Beemer.

That would just be a crying shame, Steve lowering himself to the crushing on a punk.

He might have to rethink the whole friendship if Steve ended up being soulmates with someone whose musical taste revolved around only three chords.

The kicker though came when Eddie realized how much the whole thing was upsetting him. And the more he looked at it, the more he was realizing that he wasn't sure where the jealousy was coming from.

His knee jerk reaction had been that he was jealous that Steve had found his soulmate. But now?

Now he was questioning if it wasn't something more, if he wasn't jealous of the fact that Steve had feelings for another man and that man wasn't Eddie himself.

It was making Eddie question everything he knew about himself.

Because he couldn’t say he hadn't looked at other guys. He couldn't stand up and honestly say he hadn't seen photos of Ozzy and felt something more than an admiration for the man.

Did he have a crush on Ozzy Osborne? That would explain a few of the more questionable dreams.

So that opened up another question.

Did he have a crush on Steve?

It was certainly a possibility.

The two of them were constantly in each other's orbit, and they flirted like it was a second language that they were more than fluent in. Only now Eddie wasn’t sure that he hadn’t meant all the things he had been dishing out to Steve on the daily for the last few years.

If would explain the gut churning and the ache he was currently feeling at the thought of Steve having found his soulmate.

What had Robin called it? Bisexual.

Steve liked women and men, apparently that was a thing.

Was that a thing that could apply to Eddie?

He definitely liked women, that was a given, if he was to believe Steve he was getting the most action out of the two of them.

Although Eddie had hit a dry spell that was embarrassing even for a self confessed nerd like himself.

It had been at least nine months since he had to find excuses to sneak out of anyone's bed rather than face the awkward next day conversations.

He had been striking out lately, turning down dates when Steve asked him to hang out, Eddie was running over his last few dates in his head, had he been sabotaging them because they weren't Steve?

The more he looked at it the more likely it seemed.

Eddie knew he was spiraling. Knew if he could just sound out the busy thoughts in his head to someone, he might make them make sense. But the person he would normally run to was the source of his confusion and that left him nowhere to turn.

This definitely wasn't the thing that he and Wayne were finally having that big heart to heart over.

“Yeah Wayne, I think I'm in love with Steve.” even in his head it made him want to cringe and hide away.

Love ?

Oh fuck right off, it wasn't love.

It couldn't be love if he only just realized it was a viable option right ?

Only it wasn't, was it?

Steve had a soulmate. Eddie didn't.

It would be a match made to fail even if there was the smallest chance that Steve liked him back.

Maybe he should just keep his distance?

The idea of not seeing Steve made him ache in a way that he recognized now, it made him feel sick but now he understood what it meant.

And that made it a million times worse.

He had a joint and tried to make his brain stop for just a moment, and it must have worked.

The next thing he knew someone's car was grumbling to life outside in the street and sunlight was streaming through the window.

***********

His new resolution to stay away from Steve hadn't lasted long.

The snow had fallen again during his existential crisis last night and the world seemed merry and bright. Or as bright as it could be when all Eddie wanted for Christmas was an interdimensional rift to open under his feet and the demobats to go three for three on his earthly demise.

Steve had given them both the day off, perks of being the boss, and Eddie had expected to be one of the first to show up at the Harrington home to set about operation Christmas. Yet when he crunched up the driveway his own footprints got lost in the imprints left by the hoard that had evidently already descended. The kids having their own wheels these days was making him feel old .

He let himself in, Steve had left it unlocked to save him the hassle of having to keep getting up every person who pounded on the door.

Not that it would have mattered if the door was still locked. Eddie had a key.

That was another thing to add to his list of confusing things that had happened between him and Steve.

Steve had given him a key in the middle of the night when the nightmares got too bad. He could get in without waking the whole Harrington clan. If Steve rang him in a broken down state Eddie would drive over and let himself in, climb the stairs and hold Steve until he calmed.

Eddie didn't mind, more often than not he was in the same messed up state.

Trembling in the quiet of his and Wayne's new apartment, that would never feel like a home in the way the trailer had.

Steve's parents knew, they didn't seem phased by it.

Not in the way Eddie was sure they should when a guy who was once a wanted murderer wanders down from their son's bedroom first thing in the morning, sleep rumpled and looking for coffee.

It was all a little overfamiliar, and Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to deal with someone else taking that place in Steve's life. Was this how Robin felt when she left for college? Because if it was Eddie understood the tears and the mini breakdown now. It was completely justified.

The absolute chaos he had expected greeted him as he crossed the threshold.

The kids had commandeered the job of dressing the tree. Max was yelling, bossing the boys about as was her God given right, and Will was trying and failing to get the others to decorate the back of the tree as well as the front.

It hung limply towards them threatening a topple under the weight of the many brightly colored baubles and static fairy lights, a pale comparison to the fluffy tree that Eddie and the four armed Steve-Robin beast had blundered through the door the night before.

Max looked just about ready to smack Lucas and Mike with her cane, just to get Will and her point across.

Jane sat on the sofa, a bastion of calm as her and Erica slid popcorn onto string making garlands, eating just as much as they threaded on the needle.

Apart from the ruckus, it made quite the sweet Christmas scene, even with the chaos unfolding.

The kids all had matching sweaters on, no doubt courtesy of Dustin’s mom. Eddie's hunch was confirmed when Robin walked up to him and dumped a neatly wrapped package in his arms.

“Claudia is trying to make this into a thing, and she scares me sooooooo….” Robin said, looking at the two bags of presents that Eddie had brought with him. He wished he had hung fire and left Steve and Robin's gifts in the car. Because Steve was right, he had bought him something pretty and now he was sure it was a stupid idea .

“You gotta be kidding me”

Steve's voice piped up from behind them, and now Eddie had the inkling, he knew exactly what that skip in his heart meant.

“Dustin, stop. You're going to pull the damn thing down, you already stripped the bottom two branches, and Eddie spent ages picking the needles up last night.”

Steve rushed past them both, carefully depositing the tray of hot chocolates on the coffee table as he passed. Erica and Jane wasted no time in grabbing the ones with the most marshmallows whilst the rest of the party were occupied.

Steve Reached out and secured the tree while the others removed some of the heavy ornaments that were causing it to buckle and bow.

“The children never listen.” Robin said sagely as she relieved Eddie of his bag and nudged the present in his hand, indicating he should probably open it.

Eddie was too distracted though, he couldn't stop looking at Steve. It was the first time he had seen him since he had come to terms with the recent development in his life and he was mentally kicking himself for not realizing what any of the obvious feelings he had for Steve had been before.

Eddie caught Steve’s eye, and something in Eddie's stomach swooped like he was about to plummet over the edge of a presapiss. Oh, he was done for.

He was definitely going to die old and alone, watching Steve happily live his life with another man.

If he had worked this out sooner would it have made any difference?

Probably not, Steve was his friend, he had zero romantic interest in Eddie.

Eddie just had to go making everything weird.

Evidently he had been staring too long, Robin dug him in the side again, glancing between Eddie and Steve and the strange staring contest that had started across the lounge.

‘Pathetic’ Robin muttered to herself, then aloud she said “Come on Munson, you're the only one not dressed in a Christmas monstrosity. Strip dude.”

“It's a good job I know you.” Eddie said, ripping the paper from the present and pulling out his own matching festive cheer. “I don't know if I like these bad habits you're learning at that fancy School of yours.”

“They teach me how to get oversized man-boys to do what I tell them.” She said, poking him in the side again with extra vigor.

She was vicious, for someone who's only recreational Sport was soccer, her upper body strength shouldn't be so good.

He quickly pulled his jacket off and yanked the black sweater he had been wearing over his head leaving him in just his faded and worn undershirt he hadn't intended for anyone else to bear witness too. From the sofa Max let off a loud wolf whistle, Eddie flipped her the bird, but he couldn't help glancing to see what Steve's reaction was. From beneath his flop of hair Steve's eyes were fixed on Eddie, and under his gaze Eddie felt himself starting to heat up.

“You've been defiling yourself with the devil's sacrament again?” Robin asked, grabbing his wrist. It shook him from whatever fleeting vision of possible interest he thought he had seen in Steve's eyes as Robin twisted his arm. She held on as she looked closer at his new tattoo. “Either Jeff is getting better with his little pricks, or you put on your big boy pants and went to a professional.”

“Ha ha hilarious.” Eddie said, trying to shake his arm free. “Me and Gareth went to Indi when he was back for Thanksgiving.”

“It's a bit morbid isn't it? Doubling down on the bats?”

“Robin, leave him alone. Come here and help me with this will you?” Steve shouted from across the room. But Robin was more interested in making fun of Eddie, after all she hadn’t seen him since she went away at the beginning of fall, she must be champing at the bit to bring him down a peg or two.

“You can just tell me it looks metal as hell if you like Bucks, you won’t lose any brownie points over it.” Eddie said, tugging his arm back.

“Never said it wasn’t cool, Munson. I just said it was morbid, I mean didn’t they technically kill you?”

“And technically Stevie boy brought me back to life, should I have tattooed a picture of the boy wonder on my arm? I could have gotten him in that nice little sailor outfit the two of you used to wear-” Robin punched him, hard in the shoulder. Her penchant for physical violence making itself known.

“Rob’s for fuck’ sake!” Steve piped up from behind them, as the tree crashed to the ground. The baubles scattering far and wide.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Robin said, rushing to help Steve get the Christmas tree back on its stand straight.

“What was all that about?” Dustin asked as he started scooping the ornaments from the rug, throwing them into the box they had come from.

“Nothing, tree was just too awkward to hold on my own and Robin abandoned me to beat up Eddie, instead of helping.” Steve grumbled, shooting Robin death glares.

Robin wasn’t showing any sort of remorse, holding the tree and watching as Eddie finally pulled on his Christmas sweater.

“None of you are fit to decorate this fine specimen, everyone knows you put the enormous balls near the bottom and you always decorate the ample behind.” Eddie said walking over and hooking a fat red bauble out of the fallen mess, he got close to Steve as he deliberately pressed close to get to the back of the tree, nudging Steve’s ass as he passed. God how had he not noticed just how loaded his flirting really had been getting.

“So, are you talking about personal experience then?” Steve asked, as Eddie hooked his ornament in place.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy.” Eddie teased, surprised to see the tips of Steve’s ears flushing red. Was that a recent occurrence? Has that happened before? Eddie really hadn’t been looking, but now he was and it was something he was determined to investigate further.

Around them the kids had peeled off and were now diving into the hot chocolate that Steve had left on the table. He knew that their interest in actual manual labor would only last as long as it took for candy and chocolate to get involved.

Robin grabbed the discarded box of ornaments and divided her haul as the three of them worked quietly, Eddie acutely aware of every time his and Steve’s hands brushed his as they dressed the branches or maneuvered around the other.

Now Eddie was looking for it, it was surprising how often he and Steve casually touched. A hand to the bottom of his back, Steve leaning up tight against him the long line of his chest curving into Eddie’s back as he stretched to put the smaller ornaments towards the top of the tree.

Eddie was almost certain that Steve was lingering in his space more than normal, he could feel Robin watching them. It felt like he was under a microscope far worse than any time the kids had tried to trip him up and get the juicy details of his next campaign.

Every time he caught her looking he would be met with the smug ‘ I know something you don’t know’ look that she had learned from Erica and honed under Steve’s careful guidance.

“Have I got something on my face?” He asked as he hooked a small robin on the branch in front of her. “It’s rude to gawk you know, I might start getting the wrong sort of ideas about you Bucks,”

“I would rather gut myself and use the entrails to summon a demogorgon than look at you in any way that wasn’t just platonic you weirdo.” She straightened up the ornament, glancing over to where Steve had just stuck his head in one of the old Family Video shipping boxes to hunt out the remnants of last year's tinsel. “Which is more than I can say for you and Mr. Bubble butt.” She stage whispered as she lent into his space.

Eddie shot a glance over at the table where the kids had gathered, too busy fighting over the toppings for the Christmas cookies that Will had just gotten out of the oven, to pay much attention to what was happening over by the tree.

“Just because Steve… is … you know… doesn’t mean that he’s going to fawn about like a damsel in distress around any guy with a pulse.” Eddie chided under his breath.

“Never said he was. He might be a dingus, but he’s a dingus with standards. I wasn’t talking about him. I was on about you, what’s gotten into you tonight, you're normally a lot more covert when you’re scoping out the Harrington goods.” Robin goaded, “You can’t seriously think you're being subtle about it.”

Eddie tried to defend himself but he couldn’t exactly deny that he had just seconds before been staring at Steve’s ass in his stupid skin tight Levi, he opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out. He couldn't lie to Robin, she was too clever for subterfuge.

“It is a bubble butt, “ he settled on in lieu of finding a way to address her observations.

“That you can’t stay away from apparently. You don't have to say anything, but you know, if you need to talk about it, I don’t really share a brain with him you know?” Robin said quietly with a shrug.

“Thanks Robin,” he said earnestly.

“You looking for Narnia at the bottom of that box Steve?” Robin yelled suddenly, breaking whatever heartfelt moment the two of them were having.

“I can think of better ways to come out of the closet Robs’, ones that don't involve candy that tastes like perfume.” Steve said as he emerged from his quest, hands full of tinsel and fairy wire .He beckoned Dustin and Erica over to add it to the tree. No matter how much Steve liked to pretend he didn’t have favourites, Eddie knew better. They ignored him completely of course, too involved in debating who deserved the cookie that had come out of the oven looking comedically phallic shaped.

“Come on, let's deck this baby and then see if they have left us any cock cookies to decorate.” Eddie said, reaching out to grab a handful of shredded silver.

“Right after we dick the halls?” Steve asked as he tried to hide a bald patch with some of the silver and red tinsel.

“Well, you have to, right before you jingle balls, especially if you want a white christmas…” Eddie reasoned, taking extra joy in the way that Robin gagged before throwing a plastic baby Jesus at him.

Eddie watched as Steve and Robin started lobbying clumps of glitter at each other laughing and giggling like little kids, although they managed to avoid hitting the tree in their play fight thankfully, Eddie wasn't convinced he had it in him to decorate the thing again.

It made his heart happy to see Robin and Steve like this, screwing about and looking the fool with his best friend.

Could Eddie deal with it if this was all he got to have?

Maybe he was confusing friendship for love, after all Steve had made the same mistake when it came to Robin. Finding answers on a bathroom floor was all well and good but Eddie didn't think that would work the same between him and Steve.

Maybe he would be lucky. Maybe he would get to hold on to this. To feel like he was part of something good, even when Steve’s other half joined them. Eddie was sure more than ever that nobody could be On the receiving end of one of Steve's longing looks and not cave in at the first flutters eyelid , still he dreaded the day a forth wheel joined them.

He didn't have much time to wallow in his own self pitty, soon he had a face full of tinsel and he was drawn into the fray.

*******

It was getting dark when they finally got all the decorations in place, the kids had decided that now the complicated bit of untangling the mess off lights and cleaning up the deluge of pine needles was tackled by the ‘older kids’ (Eddie refused to let anyone call him an adult) they would all join in, fighting over who got to put the star on the top of the tree.

“Technically, it should be Steve, I mean it is his house.” Max reasoned, glaring at Dustin who was currently in possession of the shiny metal adornment. The man in question glared at her before handing it over to Steve.

“How generous.” Steve snarked, as he turned to the tree and reached up to tuck the star in its rightful place.

“Hey Steve?” Dustin asked.

“Okay, okay …I’ll let you turn the lights on,” Steve said exasperated.

“No, I mean yes I want to turn the lights on. But this isn’t about that. When did you get a tattoo?” Dustin asked, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s right arm, pushing the sleeve of his sweater up to look at the skin underneath.

You could hear a pin drop, Eddie didn’t think he had ever known the kids be this quiet ever, all eyes drawn to where Dustin was holding Steve’s arm out for inspection.

Silently someone turned on the fairy lights, giving everyone a clear view of the six highly stylized bats on the inside of his right arm.

That was when all hell broke loose.

“Right. Everyone just be quiet.” Robin yelled over the commotion. “Everyone out … not you Eddie.” she added, pushing him towards Steve.

“But presents…” someone complained, probably Dustin, Eddie didn't have it in him to look away from the damning evidence illuminated in reds and greens.

“The purple bag is all the kids’ presents from me,” Eddie said, not looking up. He knew all eyes were on him and Steve and for the first time ever he really didn't want to be the center of attention.

“Yeah, that one with a snowman on has mine in, dish them out between you.” Steve waved his hand in the general direction of the pile of gift bags on the sideboard.

Eddie traced the movement, yup that was definitely his tattoo etched on Steve's skin.

Fuck.

Eddie didn’t know what was happening around him other than Robin was ushering the kids out of the door as fast as humanly possible. He could hear Dustin huffing at being made to leave, but he also heard Robin threatening to expose his deepest darkest secrets if he didn't get a move on.

Any other time that would have piqued Eddie's curiosity, but right now he couldn't make sense of anything enough to form any coherent thought.

“Call me if you need me.” Robin yelled as she slammed the door behind her.

“Alright-” “Okay” Both of them shouted after her. To be fair, she could have been speaking to either of them, but Eddie had a feeling she meant both.

The house was calm now. The crackling sound of the old and lightly scratched Christmas record accompanying the popping of the logs on the fire.

It had been a long time since a silence between him and Steve had felt awkward, but Eddie wasn’t sure how to fill this one. It stretched, and he ached to fill it but his mind was racing, trying to patch together everything that had happened to him since spring break of ‘86. It was as if the tiny bit of string that had been holding the box of his realisation closed had just frayed and the box had split at the seams. Leaving him to wade through the deluge of information in a new light.

“So,” Eddie started eventually, when the quiet became too much.

“So,” Steve echoed back.

“Robin’s kind of right. It is a little morbid.” Eddie nodded at Steve’s arm, chancing a step forward to get a better look. It wasn’t ink under his skin, it was dark red, almost black, but fading at the edges.

It was fading at least, Eddie felt guilt building up, Steve had enough scars, he didn’t need more, no matter how temporary this blip on his skin was.

“Yeah, well, I was expecting it to have disappeared by now, but apparently you have a habit of sticking around.” Steve huffed.

It had been almost four weeks, and the bats on Steve’s arms looked like they were fresh. He looked like he wanted to say more, but bit his lip trying to hold back the words. He stepped back, pulling his sweater back down over his hands.

“Trust Dustin to be observant for the first time in his life.” He said, but his voice sounded distant, like he was on the verge of tears.

“If you want to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.” Steve said as he turned his attention to the tree, fiddling with one of the paper stars that hung on the nearest branch.

“Like I said yesterday, The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one.”

Eddie really wished that Steve would look at him. He might have hidden away the newest scar under the sleeves of his sweater, but Eddie could see the silver markings tracing round his neck as they flecked red and green in the shimmer of the Christmas lights.

He instinctively brought his hand up to his own neck, tracing his own scar, the way it twisted up into the the back of his hairline and up behind his ear. Steve’s was similar but just how similar?

They had both grown their hair out to hide the worst of it so it was well hidden but…

Curiosity got the better of him, reaching out he gently brushed the hair from behind Steve’s left ear, tracing the end of the scar his fingers swooped up behind and into Steve's hairline. An almost perfect copy of Eddie's second most dangerous wound.

Under his touch Steve froze, but his fingertips betrayed Steve’s heart. The pulse thrummed through his skin at a rapid rate, making Eddie’s heart want to chase and match the rhythm.

“You do know that quoting nerd shit at me is going to have the opposite of a negative effect on me right?” He asked, hoping that for once Steve would just see through his words.

“Stevie? Yesterday you said…” Eddie trailed off, yesterday Steve had said a lot of things.

Eddie had become overly very familiar with them all in the last twenty four hours.

But the shining factoids that were barreling around his mind at a billion miles a second, causing galaxy’s to implode and die as fast as they were born, were this:

Steve liked men.

Steve had found his soulmate.

Steve had feelings for his soulmate that he thought were not returned.

Eddie liked men.

Eddie may well have found his soulmate, right under his nose and in plain sight.

Eddie definitely had feelings for Steve, it was very much returned.

“I hadn’t… I didn’t…” Eddie was lost for words, a rare occurrence, normally he had way too many words and nothing to do with them. But finding the right ones here, so as not to screw this up, felt like he was pushing a boulder uphill and the landslide of destruction was fighting him every step of the way.

“Steve… in the car… you said he was oblivious. I… I… was oblivious.”

“Yeah well, surprise.” Steve said weakly, almost on the edge of tears. “I’m your soulmate, sorry it's not some metal chick with huge tits that loves all your nerd shit.” He tried to pull away from where Eddie held him, but a simple tug at the base of Steve’s hair stopped him in his tracks.

“You are perfectly nerdy, and you have fantastic boobies Harrington, You also happen to be several chapters ahead in this book we call life. You gotta let me catch up, I only found out I was allowed to like guys and girls yesterday. The old grey matter isn’t what it used to be. I’m processing a lot.”

Steve turned to look at him, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s open hand, Eddie’s fingers still tracing the twisting scar tissue. The move felt familiar, even if Eddie was sure they had never done this before, a calm settling through him like thick toffee in his veins.

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Like guys as well?” Steve sounded so hopeful that Eddie was sure he wasn’t going to get shot down from a great height. Steve had Eddie’s marks all over him and Eddie had just been to stupid to see what was staring him in the face all this time.

Eddie wanted to see Steve smile again, catch that starlight from the tree sparkling in his eyes rather than in his tears.

“I like you Steve. And I like you a lot. But you're not just any guy are you? You’re you, and apparently the universe thinks I’m good enough to make you happy.”

“And you do Eds, nobody else has ever made me laugh so hard I want to puke. Or at least nobody ever made me laugh so much I split my stitches. Nobody else has stupidly dived head first into danger with a hero complexion just to put me first.” He shot Eddie a loaded look as if to say ‘ am I wrong?’ and Eddie couldn’t argue the facts. “Someone's gotta keep saving your life. If fate says it’s me, who am I to argue?” Steve said with a wet sniffle, yet the smile was starting to creep back on his face. Eddie carefully wiped away the tears that had dropped to Steve’s cheeks with the sleeve of his Christmas sweater.

“Fate could have clued me in a little bit sooner,” Eddie said, chancing a step closer to Steve, pushing Steve’s sleeve up and run his fingers over the bats, curling behind them he traced his fingers over the raised scar they both shared from luring away the demodog from Max’s hospital room. A shared sacrifice, a decision made together. Was that the point this had taken hold?

Just how long had the two of them been entwined like this?

As if reading Eddie’s mind Steve took his free hand and lifted it to Eddie’s neck pressing gently at the left of his adams apple.

“It was such a tiny nic, I don’t think you even noticed it, but the bottle was pretty sharp when you pressed it to my neck. I felt it then, the first spark of something, an adrenaline rush pulsing under my skin like electricity. Dad had tried to explain it to me before, but I wrote it off as a load of bullshit. But there you were, living proof that the shit dad pedals for a living was actually true. But you were so scared and so stressed that I don’t think you even registered the scar showing on your skin, let alone the elevated heart rate and the scar had faded by the time we jumped in the lake.”

“The boat house? That’s where the bond happened?”

“Yeah, and I thought you were such an asshole, it had to be some cosmic joke. A twisted mistake, that Eddie Munson was my soulmate. But then you dived into the lake after me, and you kept just knowing what I was thinking when we were in the Upside Down. It was like you knew exactly what I was going to say and do even when I wasn't sure myself. Then I couldn’t believe you would run into danger to keep Dustin safe. To keep me and the others safe, when you hardly knew us.” Steve said, inching his way more into Eddie’s space. “Only my stupid ass soulmate would go being a hero when he had been told in no uncertain terms not to do that. ‘Cause that’s exactly what I would have done too”

Realization dawned on Eddie like the sun coming out from behind the darkest of rain clouds. It had been Steve’s voice he had followed back from the brink of death.

“It was you, you called me back.”

“Yeah, well Dustin worships you dude. I couldn’t just let you go and die on me.”

“Oh, so you only saved me so you didn’t have to be a single father, I understand.”

“No you dipshit, I saved you cause you slipping away was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. And I’ve had several concussions and had part of my stomach sewn back together in a field hospital.”

“You say the most romantic things baby.” Eddie said with a grin, “Intestines are sexy.”

“You are so weird.” Steve said with a smile, his thumb stroking the length of Eddie’s matching scar.

“You’re the weird one that keeps saving me with your creepy soulmate powers, don’t go blaming-” Steve cut him off, shoving his hand over Eddie’s mouth and rolling his eyes with a sniff, the last of the tears now gone. It took everything in Eddie’s power not to lick his palm.

“And I would save you a million times more, because for some insane reason I’m extremely glad the fates decided you’re my other half, even if you are a feral racoon of a man.”

“Mmnsnatmuccun”

“What?” Steve asked, removing his hand.

“I said, I’m not a raccoon.” Eddie answered, letting himself be brave and pulling Steve towards him by his waist.

“I’ve seen you eat from the trash dude, definitely raccoon behaviour.” Steve said with a smirk. Letting himself be pulled in.

“It was one peanut butter cup, and the bin was brand new.” Eddie said in his defence, “Anyway I think that says more about you than it does me, I mean you’re the one who wants to kiss someone who ate something out of the trash.”

“Well you did say I was weird,” Steve reasoned as he lent in closer, “But you're right. I really want to kiss you Eddie, I have done for a long time.”

“Then we better make sure we aren't about to be invaded by little green men from Mars, ‘cause I really want to kiss you-” This time Steve cut him off with his lips. Eddie definitely liked it a lot better than the palm of his hand.

It was a sweet thing, tentative in a way Eddie hadn’t been expecting, but it felt different to every other kiss he’d had to date, the gentle thrum of belonging radiating from the soft press of Steve’s lips to his own.

Steve’s hands twist up into his hair, grounding him and deepening the kiss, pulling and pushing against each other until Eddie could taste the chocolate on Steve’s tongue and feel his body pressed hard against him.

It was all too much and not even a tiny bit enough.

All too soon Steve broke the kiss, his soft breath ghosting Eddie’s lips as he started to pull away.

“Nope, get back here.” Eddie muttered pitifully, pulling Steve back towards him. “Just so we're on the same page.If you look up the words oblivious, scared and idiot they all have my name next to them in the dictionary. Right under the entry that Robin has edited to deem me pathetic.”

“How would you know? You don’t know how to use a dictionary, that's why dad keeps telling you he will get you an editor.” Steve said with a chuckle, moving to pull Eddie closer.

“Don’t you start sweetheart.” Eddie softly scalded. “I can say no to your dad. But you start batting eyelashes at me and I’m done for.”

“He’s just looking out for you… for us.” Steve said bashfully. “He’s practically married us off already if you hadn’t guessed.”

Suddenly Mr. Harrington’s fumbling words made more sense, the insistence that he wanted to help Eddie in his writing career, the way he hadn’t battered an eyelid that first time Eddie had sauntered downstairs scars out in search of caffeine.

“How long has your dad known?” Eddie asked wearily, aware that he may well be the last person to have picked up on the glaringly obvious.

Steve itched at the scar on his neck, and now that Eddie knew they were connected, he could feel the ghost of it on his skin. Just how many nights had Steve been lying awake thinking of him, because the tingling was like a hug as it washed through him.

“Since you were in a coma the first time? ” Steve said sheepishly, “I swear other than Robin I didn’t mention it to anyone else… If you didn’t want me I didn’t want to become a pity case. Have you seen Dustin aim for sympathy? It’s like watching a muppet show real emotion, it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Of course you told Robin, I wouldn’t expect anything else, at least that explains why you got all weird whenever I brought up your soulmate” Eddie wasn’t sure how to process the fact that Mr. Harrington had known about this since 86 and had managed to keep his mouth shut about the whole thing since then.

“But Still. How did your dad know?”

Steve looked at Eddie dumbfounded, “Eddie, did you ever look to see who wrote the books you have been hoarding in your dragon cave? The ones about soulmates that you think nobody but you knows about?”

Eddie had not in fact looked, not even once, but now he was questioning if that was a major oversight on his behalf.

“Dad has been doing research and writing about Soulmates for the best part of twenty years now,” Steve said, pulling him in from the waist this time, taking the lead. “I was confused, because up until that point, I hadn’t really thought that my soulmate could be a man, let alone someone I thought was the very definition of straight. Turns out fate, just like my parents, doesn't really give a shit if I love another dude, just as long as it makes me happy.” Steve laughed. “And just so you know, him and Uncle Wayne have been plotting behind your back, I think I get you for like … two pigs and a packet of magic beans.”

“Wayne knows?”

“He has his suspicions.” Steve admitted. And yeah maybe Wayne did suspect something, his old man knew him better than he knew himself.

But now Eddie knew what he wanted, understood all the strange feelings in the pit of his stomach and the way his heart raced now was all down to the man who was holding him like he was something precious.

“Wayne knows to barter better than that, I’m worth at least three chickens, a pig and a cow, the only beanstalk I’ll be climbing at any point is you,” Eddie said with a flirty wink.

“Speedrunning the whole bisexual thing are we?” Steve gulped.

“I'm Stevesexual, If that isn’t a thing?” He asked, "I'm making it a thing.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, baby.” Steve said , and that baby tugged at the part of his brain marked horny and flicked a few switches for good measure.

“Is it not in one of your dad’s books?”

“If it was, you would have found it by now.” Steve said as he lent in and stole another kiss. Eddie’s heart sped up, this was what he had been missing, this was the thing he had been searching for not knowing that he had already found it.

“Another disclaimer,” Eddie said when they broke apart. “I was in love with you before I found out you were my soulmate, so don't think this is all just because it's something I think the universe wants from me.”

“When have you ever done anything someone expected Eds,” Steve said with a dopey grin, “I can't even get you to follow a rota, let alone someone invisible forces master plan. Why did you think I was so scared you weren't going to like me back?”

“Well that's just crazy thinking, this time the universe didn't have to help, I think I'd have fallen for you no matter what Stevie,”

Steve’s hands started to wander, and somewhere in Eddie’s peripheral, he heard the record skip to the end of the last song, its gentle hiss accompanied by the soft but hungry sounds Steve was making in the back of his throat as he kissed him deeply.

“You got anywhere you need to be?” Steve asked as he came up for breath, “Or…”

Eddie smirked and tugged them towards the stairs.

“What about the presents?” Steve questioned as they passed the hallway table.

“It's not christmas day until tomorrow. You’re trinkets will wait until morning sweet prince,” Eddie said, ushering for Steve to ascend the steps after him.

“I thought whores would have their trinkets?” Steve asked.

“You can be both.” Eddie said, matching Steve's teasing tone. “Now if you wouldn't mind, I would like to assess just how many of our scars actually match.” He said with a loaded wink, acting a lot more confident than he actually felt. He was a showman after all.

“Merry Christmas to me?” Steve asked and he was honest to god blushing now, how had Eddie missed this for so long it was adorable.

“Merry Christmas to us both, baby, and here's to many more.” He said with a kiss as he pulled Steve into his room.

[kurishiri]

Alfons Sylvatica ┊ Chaotic Night

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— happy christmas, friends! i present to you...a halloween story lmao this is alfons' story from the chaotic night collection event (featuring will and nica)!

— cw: some suggestiveness, but no portrayed smut.

Due to having ingested the Queen of the Night flower, the Cursed ones’ appearances have changed——

And pulling my hand, Alfons brought me to his room.

Kate: Why did you bring me to your room?

Alfons: You’re asking me that in earnest? There are brutes, all with their Curses amplified, riddled about, you know?

A: With you around, why you’d be gobbled right up.

Kate: But, everyone’s appearance has changed and there may have been changes in their condition... I would think there’s quite a bit of inconvenience.

K: I’m not affected by this, though, so I figured there was something I could do to help or take care of those around me...

Alfons: I do understand the sentiment of wanting to take care of others, but you may end up worrying too much.

A: Just like the ‘Queen of the Night,’ our sins have also amplified...

A: So I would imagine everyone is trying their hardest to hold in the impulses smoldering in their chests.

A: It would be in our best interest to lay low then.

(He does have a point there...)

Kate: ...Alright then, I’ll stay here quietly.

Alfons: Oh, but if your soft and good heart stirs so much and you want to look after someone so much you can hardly bear it, then do take care of me.

A: See, dear me, Alfons’ appearance has changed as well, and what a dire situation he is in, yes?

...was what he said, as I once again looked over his body.

(For some reason, he’s wrapped around in gauze...)

(He’s not wearing a costume, and he’s looked like this since he ingested the queen of the night extract, right...?)

As gauze was not meant to be put on and removed by one’s own volition, even if he lightly pulled on it, it wouldn’t come off.

Kate: With that look... are you hurt anywhere, or did you go through any pain and whatnot?

Alfons: Hardly. My whole body from head to toe — oh, and this place too — is thriving.

(‘This place’...?)

Kate: Umm... if that’s the case, then it’s fine for now.

K: But, now that I’m looking at it again, it’s kind of strange... why do you look like that?

Alfons: In fact, that was exactly what I wanted to ask you, Kate.

A: You would be the one to know why I’m taking on such a form.

A: After all, whatever appearance I take on is a reflection of your desires.

Kate: Your appearance reflects my desires...? What do you mean?

Alfons: Up until now, I have been showing others illusions.

A: And so, if the extract amplified such an ability...

A: Then, even without touching the back of the other’s neck, I would be able to show them what they wish to see, perhaps?

A: ...Besides that, it was when you laid your eyes on me that I changed appearance.

Kate: B-but I don’t ever want you hurt in the slightest!

Alfons: That is the least I can tell, even without your passionate declaration.

A: You are hardly the type to wish harm on me.

Kate: Then why...

Alfons: Hmm, well...

A: ...Ahh, I have an inkling. This is Japonisme, isn’t it?

Kate: Japonisme... you mean how the culture and art from a country called Japan became a trend?

Alfons: Exactly that. In Japan, there is a type of clothing called a kimono, you see...

A: And within that is a part called the obi [1], in which all will be laid bare with one flourish... was a part of their culture.

A: Oh, and by the way, when it’s been removed, the wearer would shout, ‘Oh me, oh my!’ while falling upon the bed.

Kate: ...Was that really a thing?

Alfons: Who knows? I, too, have only ever heard it in passing... well, anyhow, what I wanted to say was...

A: You probably wanted to wrap me in bandages before pulling it all off in one go.

Kate: Wh— why would I be into that sort of naughty thing...!?

Alfons: But you could have been influenced by me, no?

Kate: ...It pains me to admit that I can’t completely argue with that.

Alfons: Ahha! I won’t judge no matter how many strange hobbies you hold, you know?

A: How about you try to take them off, just to test the theory?

(Just what desire of mine caused Alfons to take on such an appearance, I wonder...?)

(It’s not as though I particularly like bandages...)

Then, while thinking about my own tastes...

Alfons: Urgh...

Alfons let out a small groan.

Kate: Did something happen!?

Alfons: The bandages around me wrapped even tighter... and it’s become a tad painful.

Kate: Wha...

Alfons: ...Ahh, but worry not. I do feel being bound to your desires like this isn’t so bad...

As Alfons said that, his expression looked a little pale. He was clearly holding it in.

(I need to stop my desire quick, or Alfons will continue to be in pain like this...!)

(Bandages... bondage... just what’s the reason? What in the world am I wishing for...!?)

I continued to mull on it as hard as I could, in hopes of saving Alfons... when it was then I realized.

(Could it be...!)

Kate: Alfons, say, ‘There’s only the two of us in this room’ to me!

Alfons: ...? ‘There’s only the two of us in this room’...

Albeit hesitant, Alfons said those words, and...

Alfons: Ah... the bandages feel more loose.

Kate: Thank goodness... which would mean my guess was right.

Alfons: Care to explain?

Kate: Well... the other day when we went out to eat together, there were a lot of women in the shop...

K: And many of those women seemed pretty taken by you, so...

K: I ended up thinking, ‘If only nobody else could see Alfons...’

Alfons: Hehe... I see now. So that’s what it was.

A: You didn’t want anyone else seeing me, and so by wrapping me all around in bandages, you could hide me away... is that it?

A: In that case, ‘there’s only the two of us in this room’ would make sense.

A: If it’s just the two of us, there is nobody but you to see me, so there would be no need to wrap me up in bandages then.

Kate: So it really was my desire that left you looking like this... I’m really sorry.

Alfons: Why the apology?

A: To see your earnest love manifest in a way that’s easy to understand is rather a good thing, no?

A: Love is an invisible thing, and at times I do question its existence. But... to see it like this, it does put me at ease.

With an amused smile, Alfons kissed me.

The heat and sweetness of those lips melted away my guilt.

Alfons: ...Say, Kate. There is only the two of us in this room, with no one to interrupt.

A: So what would follow then?

Kate: T-that...

I was too embarrassed to form any more words, but it no longer had anything to do with whether I said it or not.

My desire unbound Alfons’ bandages, causing his clothes to become disheveled on its own.

Alfons: ...You’re quite naughty, aren’t you, Kate.

While laughing happily, Alfons pushed me down on the bed.

Each of us consuming a jumbled mess of Curses and love, this Chaotic Night was just getting started.

Fin.

masterlist🪞 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms🤍

NOTES:

[1] The obi refers to the part of the kimono, traditional Japanese clothing, that is a sash. It might look something like this.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Sylus with the prompt: spitting in their mouth and making them beg.

Pls, thank you 🤗 he's a dom for everyone but he's just a lil bratty sub for me 😌

YES YES YES AND I REALLY NEED THIS AFTER HIS MYTH CARD DIDNT COME HOME

Dom!reader x sub!sylus - reader is gender neutral

Warning: teasing, spit, begging, humiliation

Anniversary event

“You are really something, sylus.” You stood in the doorframe to his room, leaning to the side and crossing your arms in front of you, a mocking smile on your face. “I was wondering why you’d invite me to your room, after that little dispute.” The room was dimly lit like always, the furnitures as spotless and elegant as ever, so doubt. But there were rose petals everywhere, really everywhere. On the bed, couch, table and floor. If you took a single step into the room, it’d be like walking on a rose field.

Alongside side the flowery scent caused by the seemingly fresh petals, there were also candles everywhere, lighting up the room. There he sat, on the dark red coloured couch, a glass of crimson wine in his hand, swirling the glass around before taking a small sip. He was going overboard with this ‘bloody red’ aesthetic. “Well sweetie, would you still care to share a drink?” The white haired male said, raising his chin to glance in your direction.

You thought about it for a few seconds, then sat down opposite to him. Then you grabbed the bottle and carefully filled your glass. “So demanding. What have you planned?” A light, calculated chuckle, him with his usual confidence that he’ll get whatever he wants, “you are making me sound like I’m some evil mastermind.” After a quick glance at him, you took a sip as well, it was bitter.

“Sylus, do you really think I’ll forget what happened just because you’ve decorated your room a little?” This time, you were the one laughing, “seriously, you have to try harder than this.” He raised a brow, twirling the glass around in his hand. Then he smirked at you, leaning forward to stabilise himself with his arms, “so? What do you have in mind, sweetie?” You scoffed, “can’t you think of something yourself?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, almost like he was waiting for you to give in, but you wasn’t going to play this game. Instead, you put your focus onto the wine in your hand. “Hah.. feisty kitten.” The male said while fumbling through his white hair. “Don’t call me that.” You snapped, pulling a grimace. He ignored it and stood up from his seat, walking around the coffee table and pinning you to the sofa, “will you accept my apologies now, darling?”

You grabbed his shoulder and pushed down, mumbling, “that’s not how someone asks for forgiveness. Do I really need to teach you?” His eyes had a spark of interest in them, and he followed your guidance until he kneeled on the floor before you. “Try to teach me then.” After a small pause, you leaned forward and yanked his head back, causing him to let out a sharp gasp, he frowned a little at your actions.

“Firstly, you have to show some sincerity and beg.” Even now he hasn’t stopped grinning, and it only fuelled your frustrations. That’s when he said, “alright, I beg for your forgiveness…” he stopped, wondering what nickname he should use “master?” now it sounds like he was mocking you. God bless your patience. “Secondly, don’t act so cocky when you are the one at a disadvantage.” You snarled, grabbing his chin to make him look up at you.

Sylus didn’t resist, he took your challenge head on and nodded, “what else, sweetie?” You sighed and drank the last bits of your drink, putting the glass away, using your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, “thirdly, obey whatever that person has to say.” His breath quickened, and he panted slightly. “Try again.” You ordered, and he stuck his tongue out to lick the tip of your finger, whispering in a soft voice, “please forgive me, y/n.”

It was better than nothing. “Now, open your mouth.” You said, changing your hold to grabbing his chin again. He furrowed his brows at that, and looked at you with a confused expression, “what have you planned?” Instead of answering his question, you reminded him, “rule three.” Though he was a little hesitant, he did as you asked. “Good, stick your tongue out.” You had such a commanding tone, it was fairly foreign to him.

It didn’t take long until he followed that order as well, waiting for what you’ve planned. You leaned over him, looking down, also sticking your tongue out. Saliva trickled from the tips of your tongue. The wait was long, torturous so until it finally dropped down right into his mouth. “You know what to do.” You smiled wickedly, then leaned back against the couch, watching his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

Soon, your attention turned to his flushed face. A faint blush covered his cheeks and he struggled a little to keep eye contact with you. The act of swallowing it wasn’t even half as shameful as the awkward, silent wait he had to endure moments before. Him, having to wait for you to degrade, to spit in his mouth. The self sure smirk has been wiped from his face, and so you commented,

“Good job, I’ll forgive you.”

[danieyells]

The mystery diner anomalies eagerly bring Sho a plate of their new recipe. Except it's just an empty, heavy-sounding plate with a lingering, meaty smell.

"So what's this called?" He asks, incredulously. One of the blobs coos at him, showing him the menu entry.

Ghost beef.

"Explains why I can't see it. . . ." Sho chuckles, nudging at the plate with a fork and a raise of his eyebrow. He meets resistance--solid resistance--which he vaguely discerns must be some sort of steak or slab of beef. He uses his finger and resista the urge to scrunch up his face. Cold. But it's a ghost and ghosts are cold. It feels like they tried to cook it. . .?

Finally Sho chances a taste, wedging his fork into the invisible meat and slicing, giving the meat a taste. It. . .tastes like beef, actually. It's not cooked thoroughly, but it's. Actually edible food, he thinks. In theory. If it were cooked better.

"Okay. This is actually a great start." The diner anomalies seem very pleased with the pride in his tone, wobbling and droning and seeming to celebrate. "But it's a little under cooked. Maybe try adjusting the temperature you use for the oven or cooking it longer. It's also a little hard for humans to eat it when they can't see it--most humans can't see ghosts, y'know? So maybe smaller cuts and thinner slices between bread would help?"

They understand and seem to agree to try it again, thankful for his help with echoing 'ooo's.

Sho wasn't sure just how well they'd grasp the instructions, but the fact that he had been presented with what he presumed was edible food was promising. Although the little bit of meat he ate didn't seem to. . .feed him any, only made him a little chilly. He hoped eating a ghost wouldn't do anything to his soul or whatever. Surely the demon he made a pact with wouldn't allow that. . . .

[exonerin]

Picking Up Strays [Obikin | A03 | ✓]

This year, I made a poll to decide what fic I would write for Christmas. Cat!Anakin was the (rightful) winner of this poll. So, I wrote and posted this fic over the previous days leading up to Christmas. This fic is now completed!

(Yes, I'm a day early. My math didn't add up. Merry Christmas if you celebrate, and otherwise a very happy end of December). Also, there's bonus content at the bottom of this post!!

Synopsis:

A mission on Dathomir to find a rumored Sith Temple turns wild when Anakin is transformed into a cat. Obi-Wan, unaware of this transformation, believes Anakin has been kidnapped by the night sisters. Called back to the Temple, he returns with a cat rather than his Padawan.

Anakin is in the unique position to learn his Master cares about him from Obi-Wan's shoulder. He also learns why animals take a shine to his Master. Obi-Wan is very good with animals, Anakin included.

Tags: Top Obi-Wan Kenobi Bottom Anakin Skywalker Praise Kink Cursed Anakin Skywalker Fluff Animal Transformation Anakin Skywalker Is An Adorable Cat (According To Obi-Wan) Mutual Masturbation

(Also, there's no beastiality. I realize I never specified that)

The boy refused to look him in the eye, staunchly turning his head when Sidious tried to catch his gaze.

It was infuriating.

If the boy tossed him one more scornful side-eye, pouting like Sidious had killed his family -- wasn't that an ironic observation? -- Sidious would do something he would regret.

Kenobi sat by the boy's side, clutching the boy's hand. Or the boy clutched Kenobi's hand. Sidious couldn't tell, and he really didn't care. There was no explanation for anything that had happened.

When they had parted, the boy had looked at him with soulful eyes, pouting that he couldn't reveal where he was sent next. Sidious had noted that once the boy was his apprentice, he would have to clarify that one should never mention one was sent on a secret mission.

The naivety served him well currently, though.

Yet, the boy wouldn't be his apprentice now. No, a decade of hard work was ruined by an event Sidious wasn't part of. The boy refused his calls and turned his invitations down. When Sidious tried to visit the Jedi's temple, the guards turned him away, too.

The humiliation burning in his stomach was a powerful emotion that would help him snap Kenobi's and Skywalker's necks instantly. It was only the reminder that he was more powerful than they could imagine that kept him in his seat.

As a last-ditch attempt to talk to the boy, he had engineered peace talks with the Separatists. Skywalker and Kenobi were the obvious Jedi representation after Sidious had dropped a few hints.

He hadn't seen the boy since he was sent on a secret mission, but he had returned with new ears. He also purred when Kenobi grabbed his thigh, and it had taken all of Sidious' decennia of training to refrain from lashing out.

They were disgusting. Everything about this farce was wrong.

Amidala had wiggled her way into these negotiations, and the Bonteri wench was making fast friends with her. No, this was not going according to Sidious' plans at all.

He could adapt, though. His plans were as flexible as his mind. He would prevail here. Whatever perceived evil misdeed had the boy in such a tizzy, he would smoothen out. He had done so before.

During a break in a meeting that strayed further and further from his plans, he finally intercepted the boy. The boy had remained glued to Kenobi's side throughout the meeting. As a precaution, Sidious had volunteered Kenobi to show the appointed Separatist negotiators the coffee area.

"Anakin," he called out to Anakin, pitching his voice grandfatherly. The boy always reacted well to his warm voice.

Now, the boy jumped a foot in the air, twisted, and hissed.

He hissed at Sidious.

This revealed two sharp incisors.

Sidious regained his composure quickly, forcing his expression to remain placid.

"Anakin, would you mind escorting this old man to the restroom?" he asked.

"No," Anakin refused.

Movement in Sidious' periphery caught his attention. A tail swished in a slow pattern, reminding Sidious of a predator eyeing its prey. This was a warning -- or perhaps a threat.

"No?" he echoed dumbly.

He knew people watched, their shock palpable in the air to a Force-sensitive.

"No," the boy repeated smugly. "I will not."

Then, he turned around and hurried in the direction Kenobi had taken the Separatist representatives, almost tripping over his feet and tail in his eagerness.

This wasn't supposed to happen. For the first time since Sidious had stood over his Master's corpse, he felt ill-equipped to deal with a situation.

The remainder of the day went worse, all his scheming amounting to nothing. Skywalker and Kenobi still held hands as they left the Senate Rotunda, not even trying to be subtle.

It didn't matter. Sidious would find a way. He always did. He would also get his revenge for the utter humiliation of picking Kenobi over his most generous offer. The Jedi were weak; he would show them true power.

When he returned to his office, his nose itched. Irritated, he slumped in his seat, brushing animal hair from the furniture futily.

Did the boy shed in Sidious' office?

Oh, this was a disgrace. Sidious sneezed multiple times in succession, a headache building above his nose. His revenge would be sweet.

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Five)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief

Part five: Dead?

You think you’re in shock. Maybe you’re so in shock you don’t even know you are. Dick said Barbra was going to deal with things back in Gotham so him, Kori and Rachel could come home. He told everyone he wants the team to be together but you know he really just wants to keep an eye on you. They should be back any minute since it’s been about three hours since you got the phone call; the call that told you the love of your life is dead. You and Gar sit on the couch side by side both quietly staring off into space. The elevator door opens and Dick, Kori and Rachel walk in. Rachel walks over to you and Gar, she pulls you both into a hug, Kori joins in and Dick simply stands to the side.

You get sick of the awkward conversation and long periods of silence. “Can I talk to you?” You ask Dick. He nods and you head into your old room.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. “I’m going to Gotham.”

“Y/N, it’s not safe,” he says.

“You can’t stop me Dick, if you want you can come with but I’m going to Gotham…I want to see him,” you say softly.

“Fine, but no running off and what I say goes,” he says.

“Yes to the first one but I’m not a titan anymore I don’t take orders from you,” you say.

“Sorry…” he says. You begin to throw things into a leather backpack when he says, “you’ll always be a titan to me.” You look into his eyes and see so much sorrow. You don’t have the energy nor motive to attempt to unpack what he’s said. All you want is Jason, and now you’ll never see him again.

“Come on,” you say as you put on Jason’s leather jacket and your pink Chicago hat. Dick follows you out of the room and down the halls to where the titans are.

“Going somewhere?” Rachel says.

“Yeah, Y/N and I are going back to Gotham,” Dick says.

“What?” Gar says.

“What about the threats?” Kori says.

“Jokers the least of my problems right now, Jason’s dead…I need to be there,” you say.

“You’re okay with this Dick?” Gar asks.

“No but that’s why I’m going,” he says.

The car ride is filled with awkward silence. You guys are about an hour into the drive when Dick finally says something. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise,” he says.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you answer quickly.

“I just need you to know I tried, I swept every room in Arkham myself,” he says.

“I know, Rachel told me,” you say. You notice he’s about to continue the conversation so you say, “I forgive you, I know that’s all you care about so I forgive you.”

“Hey, that’s not all I care about” He says.

“It wasn’t your fault, and besides it’s not about you,” you say.

“It’s not about me? What does that mean?” He says.

“Nothing just, you always do this Dick,” you say.

“Do what?” He asks.

“You always make it about yourself and your redemption, you did it on the roof top and you’re doing it right now and I just can’t deal with it, not today,” you say.

“Wait the rooftop-“ he starts to say before you cut him off.

“Not today Dick!” You say with anger. “Please,” you say softly. The rest of the car ride is fairly quiet except the typical arguing about if the gps is correct.

You and Dick get to GCPD to find Barbra speaking with a man in a lab coat.

“Dick?” She says. “I was just about to call you.”

“Barbra you remember Y/N,” Dick says.

“Right, hi,” she says sounding off. “Um something’s happened,” she says.

“Course more bad news, first can we see the body?” Dick asks.

“Fucks sake it’s not “the body” it’s Jason,” you mumble.

“Yeah so that’s the thing, it’s not Jason,” Barbra says.

“What?” You say.

“What do you mean it’s not Jason?” Dick asks.

“He was so beaten he was only recognizable by the Robin suit, we tested his DNA cause it’s part of procedure and the body in the morgue is not Jason Todd,” Barbra says.

“So Jason could still be alive somewhere?” You ask.

“Hypothetically yeah,” Barbra says.

I hope you liked the fic if you did please like, I really appreciate any positive feedback. It’s nice to know people enjoy my writing and it encourages me to keep writing and posting. I have a lot of ideas to develop the red hood story line and also I have backstory ideas for how the reader meets Jason and Dick and becomes a titan. Sorry this one is so short my mom is in the hospital that’s why. I did the whole Jason’s alive thing because I thought I killed him off a bit too suddenly, I’m trying to sort of merge the plots of under the red hood, death in the family and Arkham knight in regards to how he dies. Anyways I hope you are enjoying this series🩷

Also here’s my Masterlist incase you haven’t read the other parts.

Masterlist

[pinnedmother]

How do you think Messmer deals with feeling jealous? Or when his partner is jealous?

Thanks for the request ♡ I did both.

Messmer's jealousy

He gets jealous extra easily, not even by anything to do with romance or flirting (he’d completely blow up then), but for your attention in general. He hates when you give more time to someone else when he’s right here; hates when you smile at them, when you laugh at their words, when you look them in the eye for too long.

Why, why, why every person in his life he loves more than the world itself always has to disperse their precious attention to other people? He feels empty, utterly abandoned and forgotten, even if you were lightheartedly conversing with someone for nothing more than a minute. It stings in his chest.

Despite being incredibly dramatic in his way of thinking, Messmer is still self aware enough to understand that he’s merely experiencing jealousy and that this emotion is dangerous if he would let it get the better of him. He tries to suppress it to the best of his ability as to not cause a scene. Still he’ll frown and stare daggers in you and the other person, hoping you’ll notice and mercifully absolve him of this sensation.

You’ll need to have empathy 60 the way he masterfully hides his feelings. He wants you to know, but also doesn’t. If his serpents in their attempts to help would try to get your attention themselves, he’d get silently mad at them and forcefully tug their slithering bodies away from you.

If you don’t notice him long enough, he’ll just leave as quietly as possible. Trying to be nonchalant about his departure as if he simply has other matters to attend. Internally, however, Messmer’s melting, and seething, and burning everything around him to a crisp.

Later he would seem colder than usual and more distant. Messmer craves your presence, but doesn’t want to seem desperate at the same time. He also needs you to show that you still care for him. It may be childish, but he truly does need this affirmation. He wants you to seek him out, ask what’s wrong, show him your warmth, and smile a more genuine smile than the one you showed to this other person. In exchange, he would redouble the affection you gave him.

However… If you were to commit such an unforgivable sin as to openly flirt or even romantically involve yourself with someone… Well, hopefully you didn’t forget that your lover is a genocidal war general, known for the purge brutal enough to be removed from history, because otherwise you’d be shocked and horrified to see your paramour burned and impaled on the highest spike there is. Messmer would do it; no remorse, no regrets, only cold rage. If both you and he even decide to continue after this mess, you’ll be the one to carry the blame in its entirety, he won’t hear any of it if you’d try to call upon his conscience. You’ll have to work exceptionally hard to gain Messmer’s trust once more, and no matter what you do it’ll never again be at its fullest. It was a scarring wound, one that cannot be forgotten nor forgiven.

Your jealousy

Messmer’s confused at first, not understanding a shift in your reactions and behavior. He would catch on at some point though, and will try to persuade you that there’s nothing to be jealous about: you are the only one he loves and he needs no other.

If it’s not enough, he would cater to your demands: sending people away, shortening the time of discussions, taking a more reserved and aloof demeanor or even holding your hand while addressing others. Whatever you’d want, really. He knows exactly how miserable it feels, so if he can ease it for you – he will.

Messmer secretly loves that you’re so possessive of him. He still wouldn’t make you jealous on purpose however, your comfort is far too important, but the feeling is pleasant.

[kikyoupdates]

For Tomorrow's Sake ⭑˚💫⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔

various!jjk x f!reader

reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn

You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow.

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Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

Today, he made up his mind to pay a visit to the so-called 'strongest' sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. He wanted to witness the pinnacle of jujutsu for himself. To see, with his own eyes, what someone truly blessed—in all the ways he isn’t —can amount to.   

Toji was already surprised that Satoru took note of him. Never in his life has anyone else been able to do that. It seems it really is true. That a mere child possesses power beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. However, right now, he’s surprised for a different reason entirely.   

And of course, that reason is you .   

Toji blinks. He can’t help but wonder if he must be imagining things. It wouldn’t make much sense otherwise. There’s no rational explanation for what’s happening. Did some strange little girl seriously just walk up to him and ask for his help?   

“What,” Toji simply replies. It’s not even really a question. Rather, he’s in disbelief. And you’re still standing in front of him, looking up at him with hope and admiration.   

To be honest, no one has ever looked at him that way.  

“I want to become strong, just like you,” you repeat, and even now, your smile shows no signs of disappearing. “Since you don’t have any cursed energy, by any chance, do you… fight using cursed tools? Because I’d like to try learning how to use them as well. I’ve been looking for someone to help train me.”   

Satoru gapes at you. “Uh, [Name]? What are you saying? You can’t just ask some random weirdo to train you! We don’t even know who he is!”   

“It’s not nice to call people weirdos, Satoru. Especially when you barely know them.”   

“Either way, he’s still a stranger! Why did you even walk up to him in the first place? You’re seriously crazy!”   

Toji blinks yet again. Is this… some kind of joke? A comedy routine? Standing right in front of him is Gojo Satoru, hailed as the pride and joy of the jujutsu world. Even as young as he currently is, he can go head-to-head with the most formidable, elite sorcerers—and not only that, but he’d win .   

A few moments ago, Toji felt a chill in the air, and it wasn’t due to the cold winter breeze. When Satoru turned towards him, with those eerie, piercing blue eyes of his, Toji immediately felt inferior. Even more so than he already did. He’s not the type to get intimidated, and yet, there was no denying the sheer pressure behind that young boy’s gaze.  

Except now, that pressure is gone.   

All Toji sees is two stupid, bickering kids.   

“We’re leaving,” Satoru grits out. He glares pointedly up at Toji, still with his little arms wrapped around you, and the expression he makes is juvenile, or rather, childish . Because technically, he is a child.   

Toji just stands there with a frown. He’s heard of Gojo Satoru, of course, but he has absolutely no idea who you’re supposed to be. A relative, perhaps? Or a friend? But you just said that you’re not strong. That’s why you want to get stronger. Would the Gojo Clan really permit their prized jewel to waste time frolicking with some talentless little brat?   

“I can’t leave yet,” you insist. Satoru tries to pull you along, but you root your feet firmly into the ground, making it clear that you’re not going anywhere. Then you look back at Toji and smile once again. “What do you say, mister? Would you be willing to help train me? I’m [Name], by the way. What’s your name?”   

“Stop it!” Satoru fumes. “You shouldn’t go around telling strangers your name!”   

“But you already said my name earlier, and he obviously heard it. Silly Satoru. Always getting worked up for no reason. Don’t worry, I got this. Just watch and learn.”   

You grin confidently, and Toji can’t help but marvel at your idiocy. Or perhaps it’s lunacy. Either way, it doesn’t make much of a difference.   

“No,” he replies, watching as your expression drops. “Why should I train some brat I just met? You must have lived a very sheltered life until now, if you feel comfortable going around asking others for favors.”   

Satoru furiously grinds his teeth together. “How dare you. You don’t know anything about her. Rotten old fart. [Name]’s life has been anything but sheltered. If you don’t shut up, I’ll kick your ass.”  

“I’m nowhere near as old as you seem to think I am,” Toji scowls.   

Whatever. He’s had enough foolishness for one day. He already did what he set out to do. He came here to steal a glimpse of Gojo Satoru, and all it did was sour his mood even more. He’s better off walking away before he loses his temper.   

And so, he leaves. Or at least, he tries to.   

You’ve grabbed onto his arm and are refusing to let go.   

“Please at least hear me out, mister,” you insist. Toji stares down at you in stark disbelief, and meanwhile, Satoru outright gasps. Honestly, he kind of looks like he’s about to pass out. Your never-ending antics really aren’t good for his heart.   

It’s absurd. Two little kids are basically playing tug-of-war at Toji’s expense. Of course, he could push you back with ease, although something tells him the strongest jujutsu sorcerer wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Which just makes it even more tempting, truthfully. Toji already resents the world of jujutsu as it is. Perhaps purposefully angering Gojo Satoru, even at the risk of his own life, might give him some relief.   

He could do it. He could pick a fight if he really wanted to. Also, there’s no guarantee he’d lose. Maybe he should give it a try. If he were to somehow win against this spoiled brat who’s been blessed with everything he could ever dream of… maybe finally, the Zen’in Clan would acknowledge him.   

The longer Toji stares into Satoru’s pale, blindingly blue eyes, the more he feels like testing his luck. The more he itches to bring the world of jujutsu sorcerers, and everything it stands for, crumbling into pieces.   

But he doesn’t.   

Your next words resonate with him more than he could ever have imagined.   

“My family hated me because I was so weak,” you say, keeping your little hands tightly wrapped around Toji’s arm as you stare up at him, gaze solemn and determined. “They told me I was worthless, and that I would never amount to anything. My dad beat me really badly one day because he was so embarrassed of me. I’m sure it would have kept happening if Satoru hadn’t offered to let me live with him instead. I might not have zero cursed energy, like you, but I barely have enough to qualify as a sorcerer, and everyone always looks down on me for it. I think it’s unfair how some people get judged and cast aside, before they get the chance to prove themselves. Even if you don’t have any cursed energy, it’s obvious to me that you’re really strong. And it makes me feel like I could maybe be strong one day, too. I know it probably sounds like a hassle, but is there even a chance you might consider it? I could—oh, I know! I could pay you. Would you do it then? If I paid you enough?”  

Yet again, Toji finds himself at a loss for words.   

“Um… unfortunately, this is all I have on me right now.” You dig into your yukata and pull out a few wrapped candies, then gently place them into Toji’s open palm. He blinks, incredulous, as you smile once more. “I’ll pay you with real money, of course. Think of these candies as a promise, or like a down payment. I live with the Gojo Clan, and they’ve got a lot of money. If you agree to help train me, you might even become rich.”   

Satoru’s jaw couldn’t possibly be hanging any lower. “[Name], what the hell? I just told you to leave this geezer alone, and now you’re saying you’re going to pay him?!”  

“Well, I wouldn’t be the one paying, technically. Your relatives would.”   

“And you’re just assuming they’ll go along with this?!”   

“Maybe. If you do a good job of convincing them.”   

You grin widely. Toji is quickly realizing that you’re a cheeky little brat, and apparently, even Gojo Satoru doesn’t quite know how to handle you. Not that it stops him from trying, though. Satoru grits his teeth as he struggles to pull you back. He must be consciously avoiding using his cursed energy, so as not to hurt you even a little. But without it, he’s physically no stronger than an ordinary seven-year-old kid. It also doesn’t help that you’ve latched onto Toji with seemingly all the strength you can muster.  

God. This situation is so ridiculous, it’s almost laughable.   

“I’m not going!” you insist, burying your face in the sleeves of Toji’s kimono as he sighs irritably. “You can’t make me, Satoru! I need to hear how this nice mister responds first! And even if he says no again, I’m going to stay here until I change his mind!”   

Toji knits his brows together. “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions by assuming I’m nice?”  

“Oh. Maybe. But I like to try and stay optimistic,” you beam.   

 “It’s called being dumb , not optimistic,” Satoru grimaces. “We seriously need to go , already! You’re taking things too far!”   

He must have just mustered up the nerve to strengthen himself using cursed energy, because finally, he manages to pull you away from Toji. You stumble backwards, losing your balance in the process, but Satoru catches you in his arms and holds you tight, refusing to let you break free again.   

Strange. Toji always imagined that the strongest would be elevated above everyone else, detached from reality, seemingly in a world of their own. Like some kind of deity, so to speak. At least, based on the way that everyone seems to worship him.   

But he’s actually… surprisingly human. He has someone he cherishes deeply and strives to protect.   

Toji isn’t quite sure whether that makes him feel better or worse.   

“You’re awfully chatty, even for a kid,” Toji remarks. He stares down at the candies you just placed in his hand, but rather than handing them back to you or tossing them aside, he just shrugs and places them in his pocket. “You asked what my name was, didn’t you? It’s Zen’in Toji. You and that boy both belong to the Gojo Clan, so you must understand what this means. Our clans despise each other. Even if I agreed to help you, do you really think they would allow such a thing?”   

Right. You remember that was briefly touched on in the series. It had something to do with the former clan heads having killed each other in the past. The Gojo Clan and the Zen’in Clan have some particularly bad blood between them.  

Then again, the past is the past. What’s done is already done. There’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change.   

You must constantly face forward, towards the future .   

Toji can’t possibly understand it, and neither can Satoru, for that matter, but it’s okay. You’ve already decided that this will be your burden to bear. So, yeah. You could care less about a petty feud between clans. It’s nowhere near enough to deter you or keep you from accomplishing what you’ve set out to do.   

“Yeah. I’ve heard about it. I know that the Gojo Clan and Zen’in Clan don’t like each other,” you say.  

Toji nods. “Good. So, that means you understand how—”   

“I don’t really care, though.”   

“...what?”   

“I don’t care,” you repeat, and Toji can’t help the way his eyes widen. “How is it my fault that something like that happened a long time ago? It’s not like I was involved. It’s not like any of the people still alive today were involved either. Honestly, most jujutsu sorcerers are stupid. They care about stupid things and look down on others just because they don’t align with what they think is right. They can be upset if they want to be. I’m not trying to become stronger because I want anyone’s approval. I’m doing it because it’s important to me. So that I can protect the people I care about and make a difference. Even if others still consider me to be weak, based on their first impression of me… it’s fine. Because I’ll know they’re wrong. And that’s enough.”   

It really is absurd. What are you, six, seven years old? You’re just a kid. You’re supposed to be naive and ignorant to the harsh reality of the world.   

Yet, ironically, you sound more mature and clear-minded than any of the shitty, elitist adults Toji has ever known.   

This time, he really can’t help it.   

He laughs.   

“Haha… ha!” Toji throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as the laughter rumbles up from deep inside his belly. It’s honestly cathartic. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he laughed at all .   

Satoru pulls you even further back and shudders. “Ugh. This guy seriously gives me the creeps. [Name], I’m telling you, he’s bad news.”   

“If he wanted to hurt me, I’m sure he would have already done it by now,” you shrug.   

“What kind of reasoning is that…?”   

“Ah, that’s funny,” Toji keeps on laughing. He pauses to wipe the small tears that have formed in his eyes, then grins. “I didn’t know kids could be so entertaining. You seem much smarter than I initially gave you credit for. You’re probably smarter than the entire Zen’in Clan. Those bastards can’t even tell the difference between a head and an ass.”   

“Now he’s even comparing heads and asses,” Satoru whispers in your ear. “I’m starting to think he might be a pervert, too.”   

Toji slowly turns away. “Don’t change your way of thinking. It’d be a shame. You’re right that jujutsu sorcerers are all a bunch of idiots. This whole world they’ve built up is a joke. Like you said, they refuse to acknowledge anything that doesn’t align with their own beliefs. They’re all pathetic, narrow-minded scum.”   

Wow. Is Toji really venting to you right now? Meeting Satoru was one thing, but surely, you could never have been prepared for something like this .   

It makes you happy, though. If it brings him even a little bit of relief, you’ll gladly listen to him complain, over and over again.   

“Goodbye, strange little girl,” Toji chuckles. “[Name], you said? I’ll remember it. This day turned out to be unexpectedly amusing.”   

“Oh. You’re leaving? But… you never answered my question,” you frown. “Will you help train me? Or at the very least, will you try to consider it?”   

Toji is already walking away, waving you off with the back of his hand, and Satoru will be damned if he lets you chase after him again.   

Still, all things considered, this encounter went a lot better than you thought it would. It was a long shot anyway. At least you tried.   

What you don’t realize, however, is that Toji is still thinking of his meeting with you, even by the time he returns back to the Zen’in estate. He remembers your words from before, and as he passes by several clan members, somehow, their scornful looks don’t bother him quite as much as they used to.   

It’s a momentary reprieve, but he’s grateful for it.   

“Are you… Toji?”   

Toji turns his head. He’s sitting out in the courtyard, and a child has just walked up to him. He seems to be having lots of encounters with children today, for whatever reason. Although this child isn’t entirely unfamiliar to him. He recognizes him based on his appearance. After all, he’s the one rumored to take over as the leader of the clan one day. The youngest son of Zen’in Naobito. Naoya.  

Toji doesn’t bother responding. He just stares at him, with a sharp, unwavering gaze, and Naoya immediately freezes up.  

Truth be told, Naoya came here to mock Toji. He planned on finally seeing for himself what the infamous man with no cursed energy was like. He wanted to get a glimpse of his sad, pitiful expression. To ridicule someone weaker than him.  

Except Naoya can’t seem to do that, because just by looking at Toji, he can tell.  

This man is strong .   

Toji eventually turns away, still without uttering a single word, and Noaya watches as Toji pulls out the candies you handed him earlier. He stares at them, then chuckles. He isn’t unwrapping them to eat them or anything. It’s also strange that the coldness in his gaze has suddenly disappeared. His expression looks a bit more gentle now.   

Naoya swallows the lump in his throat and awkwardly approaches. “Is that candy? Do you… like sweets?”   

“Hm? No, not really.”  

“Oh. Then what’s the candy for?”   

Toji continues staring down at the palm of his hand. The silence feels unsettling to Naoya, especially because of the immense pressure Toji constantly exudes, but eventually, another chuckle can be heard.   

“This isn’t just candy,” Toji muses. “It’s… a down payment.” 

No matter how hard you try, there are bound to be some instances where things don’t work out the way you want them to.   

Based on how Toji walked off without giving you a proper answer, naturally, you figure it’s a done deal. It’s disappointing, of course, because you dared to imagine a world in which Toji doesn’t go on to commit atrocities, but not everything can be changed. Not always.   

You’re in for one hell of a surprise, though.   

“...he’s here,” Satoru mumbles one day, seemingly out of nowhere. You watch as his eyes widen, and he turns his head towards the entrance of the estate. “That man we met a while ago. The one with no cursed energy. He’s here .”   

“What?”   

You can’t quite believe it—at least, not until you walk past all the buildings and see him with your own eyes.   

Once again, Toji stands in front of you.  

“Yay, Toji! You really came!”   

Without even thinking twice, you run up to him and attempt to wrap your little arms around his broad frame. Toji stands there, looking slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t try to push you away, and that has to count for something, right?   

Satoru, however, looks like he’s about to throw a fit.   

“[Name]!” he fumes. “Why are you hugging that creepy old guy? It’s inappropriate! And besides, you should only be hugging me !”   

Despite Satoru’s protests, you continue to cling to Toji, because even if he’ll never admit it, you know that he could really, really use a hug.   

Satoru mashes his teeth together in frustration, and he even shakes his small fist in the air. Which is probably intended to be a warning, but he’s ridiculously cute, so it’s not too effective, in your opinion.  

Naturally, all of this commotion draws other people towards the source, and soon, you find yourself surrounded by several Gojo clan members.   

One of them gestures to you with a frown. “[Name]? Who is that man? Why did he just show up here all of a sudden?”   

“You fool. Can’t you tell just by looking at him?” another clan member mutters in distaste. “He… has absolutely no cursed energy. And that scar across his lip. It must be him . The failure of the Zen’in Clan. Zen’in Toji.”   

The atmosphere shifts all too suddenly. Everyone’s expressions are laden with disgust. Not only because of the general disdain sorcerers have towards those deemed as ‘weak’, but also due to the fact that he’s a Zen’in. In the eyes of the Gojo Clan, that’s the worst possible combination.   

Toji chuckles as he pats you on the head. “Not quite the welcoming I was hoping for. It seems not everyone is as friendly as you are, [Name].”   

Honestly, you can’t even really focus on the tension right now, because Toji just patted you on the head.   

Hehe. I’m happy.   

“State your business,” one of the clan members mutters. “You should know better than to show up unannounced.”   

“Well, that’s rude. Especially when I’m here to do one of you a favor.” Everyone blinks, clearly in disbelief, as Toji peers down at you. “Right, [Name]? Didn’t you ask me to help train you before?”   

“R-Really? You’ll… actually do it?”   

You marvel at the sudden declaration. Of course, the clan members are becoming more infuriated by the second, and Satoru doesn’t look too happy about it either. He actually looks like he’s itching to kick Toji in the nuts.   

A clan member steps forward, teeth bared. “Under no circumstances will a member of the Zen’in Clan have any part in—”   

“Shut up,” Satoru glares. “Let [Name] speak. I want to hear what she has to say first.”   

He turns back towards you, and even though he clearly has his doubts about Toji, for your sake, he might be willing to give him a chance.   

“Well? Are you sure you really want this guy to train you? Does it have to be him?”  

You look up at Toji. Admittedly, his character was far from innocent in the canon series. He chose to abandon his son and become an assassin. Nobody forced that life upon him. Ultimately, his demise was his own doing.   

But it probably wouldn’t have happened if only he’d been accepted in the first place. If only he hadn’t been treated like an outcast and made to resent the world he grew up in.   

Even though you might not succeed, you’re going to try and help him.   

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, hugging Toji even tighter than before. “I don’t want anyone else to teach me. It has to be him.”   

Satoru sighs. He wishes you didn’t have to make things so difficult. He’s never had a friend before, but ever since you stepped into his life, he’s been worrying about you practically nonstop. You’re honestly quite the hassle.   

But then again, you’re worth it.   

“And are you going to train her properly?” Satoru asks, now addressing Toji with a stern gaze. “I’m telling you right now, but you’re not allowed to hurt her. Not even a little bit. I’m going to be watching your training sessions to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. If at any point she’s in danger… I’ll seriously make sure you regret it.”   

Toji shrugs. “Sure. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn’t know how to hold back against a little kid.”   

Satoru stares at Toji for a while longer, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but you’ve spent enough time with him by now to be able to read his expressions, and you can tell that he’s just about to give in.   

Finally, he nods.   

“Okay, then. You can train [Name]. I give you permission.”   

Your eyes light up, and you even let out a squeal of delight as you excitedly jump in place, still clinging to Toji all the while. He obviously doesn’t react with the same kind of enthusiasm, but as he looks down at your tiny little frame, he finds a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even if you’re just a little kid, it feels nice to finally be acknowledged by someone.  

It would be great if you could just wrap this up on a high note, but of course, things are never that easy.   

“Master Satoru,” one of the clan members gapes. “What in the world are you saying? We refuse to condone this. The nerve of this talentless Zen’in trash to even step foot here, let alone insert himself into your lives… it’s ludicrous. We simply won’t hear of it.”   

You frown. “But I promised to pay Toji in exchange for him training me. Why is it such a big deal? Clans should be helping each other out, not hating each other. It would be way more productive if everyone cooperated. Isn’t our goal supposed to be getting rid of curses and keeping people safe?”    

“You want to pay him? Absolutely not! How dare you even suggest such a thing!”   

“Uh oh,” Toji chuckles, messily ruffling your hair. “It looks like they’re getting really angry now. I guess it’s a good thing I decided that I don’t actually need to be paid.”   

You blink, incredulous. “You… don’t?”   

“No. It’s fine. If doing this pisses off your clan, as well as those in the Zen’in Clan… that’s already more than enough for me.”  

A prideful smirk sweeps across Toji’s face. It looks like he wants to stick it to the man, so to speak. He’d much rather get under the skin of those who’ve wronged him than have some extra cash to spend. Well, not that you care exactly what his motivations are. He’s agreed to help you, and that’s already more than enough.   

One of the clan members takes a deep, shuddering breath, and in the next moment, you can tell that their cursed energy has spiked.   

“ Leave ,” they demand. “This is your last chance. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to—”   

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”   

It’s Satoru, of course. He’s staring at them with an irritable expression, and he even walks up to you and Toji and assumes a protective stance.   

“[Name] says she wants this guy to train her, so he’s going to train her,” Satoru mutters. “I’m not too happy about it either, but this is what she’s decided, so I’m going to support her. If any of you have a problem with that, we can just leave. I’ll take [Name] far, far away from here and never come back. I’ll leave the Gojo Clan forever. Is that what you want?”   

Neither of them respond, but you can tell that internally, they’re panicking. Sure enough, if Satoru really wanted to, he could overpower everyone here and do as he pleases. There’s no way to force him into anything. All of his diligence towards his training up until now… he’s been doing it out of a sense of obligation, not because he doesn’t have the strength to object. He’s been going along with everyone’s demands because he’s the strongest. Because the fate of the world hangs on his shoulders.  

When it comes to you, however, he can be awfully selfish. And everyone in the Gojo Clan already knows that.   

“...fine.”   

Their faces are bitter, ashamed, and resentful, but nevertheless, they have no choice but to concede. The embarrassment of relying on a Zen’in Clan member is nothing compared to the risk of losing Gojo Satoru.  

You smile yet again. So, it’s really happening. You’re not sure how, but you actually managed to pull it off.   

From this moment onward, Toji is your mentor.   

“I’ll do my best,” you beam, eyes brighter than ever. “I’ll train my butt off, and I promise I won’t ever complain, no matter how hard it gets. You’re going to be super impressed. Just wait and see!”   

Perhaps this is nothing more than the silly, idealistic ramblings of an ignorant child. Children like to say all kinds of things, after all. They make big, grandiose promises that they can’t keep. And they constantly exaggerate, making their feats seem larger than life itself.  

And yet, Toji feels inclined to believe you.   

“Very well,” he chuckles fondly. “I’ll hold you to that, so show me. Show me… how you’re going to prove everyone wrong.”   

[marsreds]

I've been thinking about, well, I can't say about Zaun/the Undercity and names but rather about the conversation around that.

This conversation mostly exists in the context of Zaunite characters not having a last name, and very frequently* it centers Viktor's lack of family name as telling of a cultural pattern.

However, I feel like this reading of Viktor's situation in particular overlooks one aspect that i think it's invaluable when discussing Viktor's position in Piltover and Zaun alike: Viktor is an immigrant.

He is the only character in the show with an accent like that. During Season 1 Act 1, we see him try out idioms ("You have to... crank it."), as if they're outside his understanding of the language, but he is fluent enough that he can glean the meaning and incorporate it without needing explanation.

This all points towards a person who came into this society at a young age (obviously, given the flashback) but was not born there.** Children who are born in immigrant communities are exposed to the dominant language in daily life and speak it with whatever accent is prevalent in their immediate surroundings, yet Viktor doesn't sound like any other Zaunite.

And there is much to be said here, about Viktor's sense of belonging, why it would not have been that difficult for him to let go of any community in the Undercity, given that we don't actually see him having one, as well as his lack of understanding of what life for certain populations in Zaun is like. The point I'm getting at however, is that I believe it's less that Viktor doesn't have a last name because he's from the Undercity, it's that Viktor doesn't have a last name because no one in either Zaun or Piltover can pronounce it.

And Viktor, being someone who is perpetually striving towards the top, simply shed it as everything else he thought held him down.

*Granted that impression might be skewed in my case since he's a character who I seem to seek out the most, call me biased.

**This is also why I don't ascribe to the idea that his disability is a product of Piloverian ecocide. I've said it before, but sometimes you're just dealt a bad hand. (The disease very much is however.)