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peachypinkygloss · 10 months

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sleepover — ksj, pjm

You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

☆ pairing: best friend!seokjin x fem!reader x best friend!jimin

☆ genre: roommates au, best friends with benefits, smut

☆ word count: 7.3k

☆ warnings: evil jin & jimin cus i can't write them if they aren't meanies (they're still cuties 💘), reader's kinda a bimbo and a crybaby oops, roommates jinmin, a bit of possessiveness 🤫, pussy drunk jimin <3 (he could drown himself in it istg), dicks analysis 🤓 (i love doing that, sorry not sorry), threesome, unprotected sex, degradation, edging, oral (f & m), fingering, lil bit of anal play 🙊, cum eating, and btw kissing is overrated.

a.n.: fucking finally ‼️ this is me signing up for hell. jinmin turned me into a helpless romantic whore. ... idk how my characters are supposed to interact outside of sex ☠️ sorry

"Hi."

Seokjin greets you as a huge grin forms on his face. He leans on the door he just opened, eyeing you up and down before hiding his other hand in the pocket of his shorts. You recognize them to be his basketball ones, his favourite and lucky pair of shorts.

"Hello," you say in return, passing by him to enter his dorm room he shares with Jimin.

His eyes follow you, lingering on your body shamelessly. You're already dressed for the sleepover, having chosen to wear your Snoopy themed night shorts with a random t-shirt you own since high school.

You turn around, catching Seokjin staring at you at the same time. Fortunately, you're not that bright so you don't question him. You probably didn't even notice his eyes were on you anyway.

"Where's Jiminie?" You ask him, voice pouty and disappointed to not see your other best friend in the room with you.

After he closes the door behind him, he walks up to you. He almost wants to laugh at the height difference you share. He can see the top of your head, well, he would if you hadn't your head tilted upward to look at him.

He's much taller and larger than you. It does something to him. Is he old fashioned for preferring his women shorter than him? Maybe, but screw it. It attracts him, he can't deny it, especially when the woman in question is you.

"He'll be back soon," he answers, watching how your hold on the strap of your backpack twitches when he steps closer to you. "He went to take a quick shower. Didn't want to stink after his practice," Seokjin explains and you nod, quickly backing away and throwing your bag on Jimin's bed.

He doesn't mean to make you anxious. It's not his fault if his proximity cuts your breath short, but he finds it cute. Really fucking cute.

Jimin's bed is placed on the left side of the room while Seokjin's bed is on the right. Their dorm is minimalist in terms of decoration because in terms of mess... it's the opposite. Typical of a young man's room — of a two young men's room.

It's not super messy where you can't even see the floor beneath your feet, but a box of empty beer bottles is chilling beside their mini-fridge and dirty clothes are scattered everywhere as well as school furniture.

As unpleasant as it seems, you feel good in their room.

And anyway, they know how to clean, they just don't really do it. What's new?

"Sorry for the wait!" Jimin exclaims as he enters the dorm, coming in with his used towel around his shoulders. He shakes his head, trying to get his wet brown hair away from his face. "The shower I normally use was broken, so I had to use another one and the stupid curtain was sticking to my ass," he loudly complains and removes his sandals by throwing them in a corner by the entry, walking up to you.

"That's why I don't pull the curtain," Seokjin says, always having the best but also weirdest advice. "Doesn't bother me anymore."

Jimin winces, giving him a dirty look. "You're fucked up for that," he accuses Seokjin, laying his towel on the back of his chair so it can dry properly. "There's water everywhere if you don't pull it."

"And you make weird eye contact with people," you add on, Jimin agreeing with you with a 'yeah' and a nod of his head.

Seokjin rolls his eyes as if you and Jimin are the weird ones when everybody knows damn well it's fucked up to not pull the shower curtain.

"Nah, just close your eyes," he persists, believing he's in the right and you both are in the wrong. "And anyway, it's better than having the curtain sticking to your butt every time someone enters the shower room. Plus, there's a drain for the water, so fuck you."

You gasp offendedly when he insults you, giving him a tap on the chest to scold him for his bad words. He only smirks at the hit, wanting to tell you it tickles as a way to tease you, but he knows you hate it when he laughs at your lack of strength.

"Don't say that!" You reprimand, staring at him severely and he thinks you just look so cute. It's unfortunate how he'll never take your anger seriously.

He grabs your wrist, stopping from giving him another hit as he can't help but laugh at your facial expression. "I wasn't saying it to you, babe," he rectifies, pulling you closer to him by the hold he has on your arm. Your face is then a couple inches away from his, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as always. "Just to him 'cause he deserves it, but not you."

You look at him in the eyes, breath quickening as his plump lips seem way too close to yours. You notice his gaze shifting between your lips and eyes, understanding the idea he has in mind. You don't let him think about it too much.

"You're stupid," you mumble as you detach yourself from him, putting a safe distance between you two.

You glimpse in Jimin's way, hoping he didn't see how Seokjin was literally asking for a kiss, but he's busy tidying up his hygiene products he brought to his shower.

Seokjin's eyes haven't left you, still looking at you with a smug smile on his face, but he stops when his friend turns around.

"Ok, so... what movie do we watch?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

"There's no more soda," Seokjin announces, looking inside their almost empty mini-fridge. It would be time to go to the grocery store.

"But I need one!" You whine from where you are laid down on Seokjin's bed, previously sandwiched between the two men with Jimin's laptop on your lap to watch a movie. "I'm thirsty and water won't hit the same..."

Seokjin sighs, knowing he'll give in to your whims. How can he resist your adorable face and your pouty voice? You're their spoiled best friend, after all.

"I have to go to the convenience store..." He explains, hoping it'll make you change your mind and go with water instead of a soda.

You keep the same expression, big rounded eyes and corners of your lips tug downward. "Yeah?" You say back, not bothered to make him walk miles just for a little can of soft drink. "Please, you'd be a sweetheart, Jinnie," you flatter him, using compliments to make him give in and it works, as always.

"Okay..." He sighs again, upset for being so weak with you. You deserve it, but he's not really willing to leave you alone with Jimin, especially with the smug smile he has on his face right now.

"Bring some candies, too," you ask while he's searching through his wallet to check if he has enough coins.

"And chips," Jimin adds in, smirking like a devious child. "Oh, and ramen, since we're at it."

Seokjin narrows his eyes at him, well aware that his friend has something in mind, but he can't tell what exactly. "Do you have the money for it?"

"You do," he replies quickly, snuggling himself closer to you.

"I'm not paying for your shit, Jimin," Seokjin says back, putting his coins in the pocket of his basketball shorts.

"Ah, come on, hyung!" Jimin groans, but his friend doesn't want to hear him.

He picks up a pair of dirty jeans off the floor, knowing Jimin hides his coins in there. He pulls out a couple, not really caring if he takes more than he needs to.

He puts on his sneakers and brings his phone and keys with him, opening the door. "Don't wait for me!" He yells before exiting his dorm room he shares with Jimin, door closing behind him.

As you're about to press on the spacebar to resume the movie, Jimin closes his laptop, extending his body over yours to drop off the electronic device on the floor.

"What are you doing?" You question him, confused.

"Waiting for Jin."

"But he said-"

He cuts you off, putting his index finger over his lips. "Shut up, will you, princess?" He smiles when you don't dare to open your mouth again, looking at him with widened eyes and pouty lips.

He hovers over you, one hand supporting his weight on each side of your body. He rapidly settles himself between your legs, lowering himself slowly, looking deeply into your eyes. Your heart accelerates and your stomach twists, starting to get nervous about what Jimin is about to do.

He carefully lifts your pyjama top over your belly, making you involuntarily flinch when his lips brush against your skin. He glances at you when you move, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you with his piercing gaze as a warning or maybe as a way to reassure you, telling you that you don't have to be anxious.

You swallow in a whine when his pillowy lips lay on your stomach, leaving you bothered and hot by the simplest action, yet the most meaningful at the same time. He kisses your skin, his lips trailing down until they reach the band of your night shorts.

You shiver, swallowing again, the area between your legs heating up as he gives your stomach more kisses. They are wet and warm as well as intimate and sexual.

He presses his plump lips down on you, the tip of his nose touching your skin as he gets terribly close to your crotch. You're flustered by the way he explores this area of your body you never knew was this sensitive until now.

His hands grip the fat of your hips, gripping hard, but it doesn't pain you. It cuts your breath short and makes you feel possessed, like he owns you. Owns your body, owns your emotions because there's nobody else at the moment other than him who makes you feel this way.

His hands on your hips shift down to your clothes that separate you from his insatiable mouth. It's as if it's searching for you, searching for your core that is turning wetter as the time passes incredibly slow.

His lips travel between your thighs and you open them for him, not thinking once about anything else than his mouth on your private parts. His fingers tease you by slipping under the band of your shorts before slipping back up, doing it over again. He pulls them slightly down, but stops since he likes torturing you.

"Are you going to... to, um…" You lose your words, gasping loudly when his mouth finds your bud of nerves, already aching from the lack of contact.

He doesn't stay long, going up just above your pelvis, pulling down on your shorts by hooking two fingers under them at the front. "Yeah," he whispers, confirming your doubts.

You feel his hot breath on your skin, locking eyes with him as he continues to pull, also bringing down your panties. "Like... like the last time?" You ask in a little voice, which makes Jimin smirk.

"Like the last time," he repeats before concentrating back on his task.

He attacks your stomach in kisses, distracting you from the fact that he's now using his two hands to get your shorts and underwear off of you. It works, you don't fight back and only bury your fingers in his thick soft hair.

Rapidly, your clothes find a spot on the floor, being long forgotten the moment Jimin puts his mouth on your pussy. He licks a long strip from your leaking hole up to your clitoris, wrapping his lips around it. He passes his arms around your hips and your legs hang on his shoulders, clad feet touching his lower back.

He nibbles on your clit, suckling on it, making it puffy and swollen. He sucks avidly on your bud and million tingles pass through your body. You buck your hips upward by instinct, pushing down on his head and gripping his hair between your fists.

You moan sweetly, Jimin's cock hardening in his shorts at the beautiful sounds you let out each time he sucks and licks, giving you the impression that he's literally making out with your pussy.

You imprison his head between your plush thighs and he likes the feeling of it, he likes it very much. He's happy to know he makes you feel good, so good that you could suffocate him between your thighs. You do this because you're agitated, squirming around under him and moaning, sounding almost like cute little meows.

His head of silky brown hair peeks out from between your legs and your stomach flutters at the sight, your mind fuzzy from thousand little clouds.

He suckles on your clit and you lack the words to describe the feeling, but it's wet, so wet. His tongue is everywhere, teasing and licking like it’s second nature to him. At this very moment, you believe Jimin was born to eat pussy and nothing else.

He ruts his hips against the mattress and lets out a deep moan, cock aching from being restricted in its confines. The wet sounds your cunt produces turn him on so bad, dick painfully hard at the melody of your moans and at the way you shove him against your pussy as if his head wasn't already buried between your legs.

It's a lot for you, your fingers can't compete against his mouth — they would lose instantly. If Seokjin knew what you two were doing right now, you can't imagine what his reaction would be. You wonder if he knows about last time, there's no way he doesn't, Jimin hides nothing from him.

If he knows, then why did he leave you alone with his friend who is incapable of keeping his tongue in his mouth, away from your cunt? That's why he was so hesitant. You feel bad, you shouldn't be doing this behind his back... No, you shouldn't be doing this at all. Or should you?

Is Seokjin's tongue as skillful as Jimin's? As wet and warm? Surely, with his pair of heart-shaped lips you can only imagine what they would do to your poor little clit.

You moan at the thought, twisting Jimin's hair in your small fists, coming closer to your orgasm. It doesn't take you a lot, a few licks and he has you over the edge. With skills like his, you're sure to be in seventh heaven really quickly.

So quickly and intensely that you don't even hear the door opening and closing, nor does your best friend.

"Jimin, what the fuck!?"

You knit your eyebrows at the sudden exclamation, but don't give it much importance as you feel your orgasm coming. Your pleasure is cut short and you get frustrated really fast.

"No, no, no," you panic, feeling Jimin's mouth leaving your pussy. You pull on his hair to have him back against you, but he doesn't budge.

"What?" Jimin responds nonchalantly, looking at Seokjin who has just entered the dorm with sodas and snacks bought at the convenience store down the street. "Don't you want the poor girl to cum?" He smirks like the situation is totally normal.

And maybe it is normal. It's not the first time he's gotten his way with you, it surely won't be the last. You're stupid enough to not see the way your friends look at you, how they undress you with their eyes and how they lick their lips salaciously whenever you find yourself in a compromising position.

They are perverts, but with you they are more than that and you're about to find it out.

You turn your head toward Seokjin who's standing beside the bed, a crease between his dark eyebrows. His gaze is sharp, mad at you for being such a whore, but can he really blame you when Jimin's lips are so tempting, literally breathtaking.

"Oh, please, Jinnie!" You beg, clit pulsating. Having Jimin's mouth just over your cunt is agonizing, so hurtful when he could soothe the ache between your legs in less than a second.

"What are you begging for, hm?" He says, his voice husky, making your stomach twist. You whine, eyes watering at how badly you need this release. "Can you tell me instead of crying like a little slut?"

Jimin looks at you from his spot between your thighs, smiling devilishly with no intention of helping you unless you follow Seokjin's order. You find it unfair and kind of dumb because if he had come in just a minute later, you would've orgasmed by the time. And it would have been magical.

Sloppy kisses are given to your inner thighs and you swear Jimin is doing it on purpose. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Seokjin. "Please, can I cum?"

"I don't know," he answers curtly and you frown even more. He approaches you and lean over you, taking a hold of your jaw, angling it in his direction. "How badly do you want it?" He whispers, his pink lips so close to yours, you can't help but stare at them.

"I- I," you stutter out, totally braindead and on the verge of tears. It shouldn't be that hard to say a complete sentence, but right now, it is. You surely look pathetic, crying for a stupid orgasm. "Please, want it badly."

"Good girl," he purrs when you finally say the words he wanted to hear. "Yes, you can, sweetheart," he gives his approval and your eyes light up.

Jimin doesn't wait to get back into it, lips already on your clit when Seokjin lets go of your face. You both look down at where Jimin's mouth operates, slurping up your arousal and flickering your little bud of nerves with his pink muscle.

You whine and grip his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You jut your hips upward in his face, his licks and sucks much more powerful than previously.

You're brought back to the edge of your orgasm in little time, mouth agape as you close your legs around Jimin's head. Seokjin takes the opportunity to insert two of his fingers in your mouth, going deep and pressing his digits down on your tongue.

You close your lips around him and you ask yourself if he's verifying how much you can handle at once. If you can take his long fingers, you're surely capable of taking something else way bigger.

You drool all over yourself and wince at the wet feeling, not really appreciating it. You moan around his fingers as you rock your hips in Jimin's face, the knot in your stomach ripping apart. The pleasure is intoxicating and ten times more intense. Who would've thought Jimin's mouth can turn such a little orgasm into a literal tsunami.

You cum hard while still having Seokjin's fingers knuckles deep in your mouth. You hear Jimin groaning at the pain you inflict on him by pulling on his hair, but he loves the pain and loves even more your cunt rubbing in his face.

Jimin removes your thighs off of his shoulders and pushes them over your stomach. He savours your arousal dripping down from your hole, drinking it like a thirsty man as if it was his only source of water. He makes out with your pussy and this time it's not just an impression. He's opening and closing his mouth on you, sucking on your lips like he would do if he was kissing you.

Seokjin retracts his digits from your mouth and slaps the side of your face with his wet fingers, cupping your jaw after. "Happy? You got what you wanted, greedy little girl," he rasps out, gritting his teeth.

He's so hot when he grits his teeth. He has this look in his eyes, one that makes goosebumps run down your spine. He seems mad, upset you've let Jimin get into your pants so easily without a second thought. Or mad because you didn't wait for him. Well, according to Jimin it's what you were doing, but you shouldn't have started without him. If only you knew you were about to start that.

"Yes," you nod, muttering the word. Seokjin holds your face tightly, fingers pressing on your cheeks, jutting your lips out.

Jimin gets up on his knees and your heart does a flip in your chest at the view of him with his hair tousled, knowing you're the cause of this beautiful mess. His lips and chin are drenched in your juices. He licks them clean and wipes his chin with his hand, flashing you a devious smile after.

"She's just a dumb little girl, now," he teases, bulge very apparent in his shorts. "Did you have a good time, hm? Grinding on my tongue like a deprived virgin?"

Seokjin frees your face to cup your cunt instead, slapping it a couple of times, making you squirm out of overstimulation. "She sure did," he agrees, licking your arousal off his fingers before speaking up again. "Look at her. No thoughts behind those pretty eyes."

You want to say something back, but you can only produce a pathetic whimper.

Jimin is about to lower his shorts over his crotch when Seokjin stops him. "What are you doing?" He asks with a scowl on his face.

"Well, it's my turn," he answers casually, but Seokjin doesn't really agree with him. "I got her all wet, I deserve that pussy."

"Yeah, and you did it behind my back. It's only fair I get to it first-"

"No..." You grumble, interrupting your friend. They both look at you, intrigued with what you have to say. "Stop fighting. I get to decide who enters me." You roll over, getting on your stomach and then on all fours to escape Jimin. You sit up, flicking your eyes between the two men. "And nobody will."

"What!? Why!" Jimin exclaims while Seokjin scoffs. It's stupidly easy to piss them off.

You place yourself over the edge of the bed, your back facing Seokjin and your clad feet hanging off the mattress. You grab Jimin's hand to bring him over to you. You sit on your calves, opening your legs wider and leaning on your hands while Jimin is placed on his knees, back straight.

You look over your shoulder and point at Seokjin where he should be. "Kneel here," you instruct, pointing to the spot just behind you.

You smile when he gets on his knees and he grins back at you, knowing your greedy little pussy wants more. Two pairs of plump lips on your sex on the same day? Blissful.

But you should know Seokjin isn't really the type to follow orders, far away from obeying to your selfish little rules. He's the one who commands, not the opposite. Never the opposite.

"Jimin," you tug on his shorts, making him look down at you.

He smiles sweetly, cradling your face in his warm hands. "Yeah, princess?" He purses his lips as if to send you a kiss. "Wanna suck on my dick? Is that what you want?" He coos, saying such lewd words in a soft voice.

"Please."

He groans appreciatively at your pleading, his cock twitching happily in his briefs. "Get rid of that first, baby," he demands, pulling your pyjama top off of you, revealing your breasts to him. "Perfect..." He purrs, fumbling your tits in his palms before reaching for the band of his shorts.

At the same time Jimin's pulling his cock out, you feel your asscheeks being pushed apart and a big glob of spit falling down between them, dripping down over your puckered hole. You gasp when a thumb comes to stroke the muscle, lubricating it.

You can't really focus on what's happening behind when Jimin's angry erection stands proud just before your eyes. You moan at the sight, having never thought that seeing your best friend's dick would have been so arousing.

He's perfectly girthy, his head a cute shade of pink and glistening in pre-cum. He's not super veiny, but you can sense the weight of it. Looking at it makes you hungry, salivating like a dog in front of a bowl of food.

Jimin is not shaved and you love it. He has two well defined shallow grooves on his abdomen going from his hip bone to his pubis, accentuating how slim and muscled his body is. A few veins pulse out on his abdomen, going down to his pubis, and you want to pass your tongue over each one of them.

You open your mouth, Jimin guiding his cock toward your mouth, but it's at that moment that Seokjin plunges two fingers in your cunt. You moan out, knitting your eyebrows as he reaches a sensitive spot right away. He scissors your insides, and even if you said nobody would fuck you, you think he's stretching you out exactly for that.

"Shhh," Jimin tries to soothe you, patting your head in an endearing manner. "Keep your mouth open, baby." You do so and he doesn't hesitate to penetrate it, moaning in relief as he puts a hand at the back of your head to keep it steady.

He keeps a hand around his base to guide it in your mouth and you relax your jaw, letting him stuff you full of his cock. You want to reach the end so bad, pleasure Jimin like he did with you, but he feeds you his dick slowly, too slowly.

You've never been that eager, that impatient to suck a cock. You want to make him cum, to satisfy him. You want him to use you, use you like you're worth nothing more than a sexual object. He can ruin you, fuck your throat with his fat cock, you only care about his — their — pleasure.

He holds your head, letting go of his cock when he considers he's far enough in. "Ah, what a good fucking whore," he praises breathily, watching the way your lips wrap tightly around his stiff erection, drool dripping down on your chin from being so full.

You bat your eyelashes at Jimin, feeling your eyes stinging. He growls when your eyes connect, his fluffy bangs covering his beautiful almond shaped eyes.

You can't see Seokjin's movements, but you can feel everything. His breaths, the calluses on his hand palming your butt, his long fingers pounding into you, his thumb teasing your rim, you feel it all.

He lays his tongue flat over your cunt where his fingers operate, licking a long trail until he reaches your other hole. You clench around him, a little bit taken back by his obsession with your ass, but still really turned on.

It's nowhere near uncomfortable, though it's not an area you usually explore when you're alone. You keep your jaw slack for Jimin as he starts to thrust in back and forth at a slow pace. He doesn't move much, most of his length stays in your mouth. It's enough friction for him to enjoy, hearing his soft moans above you.

You arch your back to Seokjin's pleasure and he groans pleasantly, having his head buried between your cheeks. He curls his fingers in you and pat gently the spongy spot in you, making you moan obscenely around Jimin's thick cock.

It sends delicious vibrations through Jimin's body and he opens his mouth in pleasure, pushing his cock in deeper. He frowns adorably while his mouth is ajar, watching his meaty length disappear and reappear between your swollen lips.

Seokjin's traces your empty hole with the tip of his tongue, teasing you and making you contract around his fingers so hard he has difficulty to move in. He slaps your ass and your whine is muffled because of Jimin's cock in your mouth. You unclench and he can finally move in freely.

He pulls on one cheek while he kisses and licks around your rim, sometimes going in just a little. You push your behind onto Seokjin, eliciting another groan from him, angry or maybe satisfied, you have no idea.

You're trapped between your two male best friends and you don't know what to think, mind so dizzy, potentially ready to explode. One feeds you his cock, the other eats your ass while fingering your pussy. How can your brain function correctly in this situation? Well, it cannot.

"So fucking impatient," Seokjin observes, now entering a bit of his thumb into your hole. The stretch is weird, but it tingles at the same.

He removes his two digits from your drenched pussy, making you whimper around Jimin, spreading your wetness over your puckered hole after he extracted his thumb. You feel the dampness between your cheeks, purring when Seokjin brings up more arousal.

He pulls your two globs of flesh apart, coming to lick your ass again. You feel his nose pressing down on you and the teasing tip of pink muscle tickling your tight hole. He almost cleans you off of your juices, leaving only his saliva and the insatiable hunger he has for your ass.

Your eyes roll back and Jimin sees it, gripping your hair at the top of your head in a tight fist. You let out a painful long whine, loving the burning sting and the stretch of your ass Seokjin offers you.

Jimin guides the bounces of your head on his cock, doing long and rhythmic thrusts. He groans deeply, the sound coming from his throat, and you mewl in return.

His face is all puffy, cheeks coloured in red, breath shallow and lips dried. He licks them, swallowing in a breathy moan after. He looks delectable, his dark gaze planted on you, never once looking away unless it's to watch his thick cock entering your mouth at an exhilarating pace.

You feel digits stroking your rim, teasing a bit before Seokjin spits on it. "I should fuck that tight ass," he states as he spreads his saliva, dipping in his thumb slightly. "For fucking with Jimin behind my back." He passes a finger over your slicks, noticing how wet you are.

You want to protest, hearing Seokjin standing up on his feet after his scary, but tempting threat. You're about to pull out when Jimin pushes down on your head, keeping it in place. "Ah, shit..." He hisses, feeling you swallowing around him.

It's not long until you sense a long cock sliding over your drenched cunt and you look worryingly at Jimin, but he only smiles at you, still holding your head down.

Seokjin pushes his bulbous head down your tight ass hole and you clench around nothing, heart beating faster. You wonder if he'd really dare to do it, but you know he's not the kind of guy to do it the... messy way. He's teasing, as always.

"Stop whining, baby," Jimin coos, stroking your cheek delicately. He moves in slightly and you flatten your tongue under his meaty cock. "Relax, m'kay? There's nothing to worry about, it's just us," he reassures you and you close your eyes, letting him use your mouth as he pleases.

You finally feel his cock penetrating you, sliding in your pussy in one motion. Your wetness allows him to enter you with ease, making you moan around Jimin's hard dick. One hand strokes your back, big palm caressing your sweaty skin, passing over the bumps of your spinal column.

"She's fucking tight, sucking me in like crazy," Seokjin rasps out, smacking one of your asscheeks, making your flesh jiggle from the force of the hit. "Acts like she doesn't wanna get fucked, but that's all she's been dreaming about..."

You whine, wanting to say something, but you can't while having a full mouth. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you, princess?" Jimin purrs, perfect pink lips curving upward into an evil smile.

He refrains a lewd moan from escaping his mouth by biting down on his bottom lip, fist pulling harder on your hair. You do your best to breathe through your nose, focusing on your gag reflex and hollowing your cheeks to maximize his pleasure.

"Ah, fuck-!" Jimin frowns and grits his teeth, too close to his high to continue fucking your mouth. He yanks your head back, pulling out of you in an instant.

His cock twitches after he analyses your face, looking absolutely destroyed. You breathe with difficulty, cheeks stained by your tears and chin by your drool. You blink several times, looking back into his eyes before moaning out loudly, leaning yourself on Jimin.

Seokjin doesn't miss your sweet spot and it's too intense for you, holding on to Jimin for some emotional support. You grip the sides of his t-shirt, sticking the side of your face to his chest, crying against him all while you're getting fucked by one of your best friends.

Jimin can't help but play with your dangling breasts, fumbling the plushy flesh in his rough palms and pulling on your nipples. It makes you arch your back, leaning on Jimin's touch and pushing your hips against Seokjin's.

The man behind you grips your hips tightly, sinking his fingers into your soft flesh, leaving your poor skin sore and the marks of his fingertips behind. He snaps his hips against yours roughly and he seems to never get enough, driving his cock into your wet pussy like a mad man.

Jimin's erection stands just before your eyes, glistening in your spit and hard as rock. He sees you looking at it so he grabs it, guiding it to your lips. "Wanna suck it, baby?" He asks in his sweet voice and you glimpse up at him, drooling on his t-shirt, looking totally braindead. "Don't be shy, open your mouth..."

You part your lips to mouth at the reddened tip, suckling on it gently. Jimin hums, stroking your hair delicately, the opposite of Seokjin's actions who pounds into you with force, using you to get himself off.

Suddenly, he steadies his hips against your ass, stopping his vigorous hip thrusts. He then pulls out and your legs fail you, no longer strong enough to stand on their own without him holding you up. You cry, letting go of Jimin's cock and glancing over your shoulder to see Seokjin getting rid of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

"Do you want to switch?" Jimin questions his hyung and this one nods, catching his breath.

"Yeah," he breathes out a positive answer.

Jimin smirks down at you. "Come here, baby," he softly instructs, grabbing your bicep and bringing you to the head of the bed. He takes off his sweats before stretching out his legs and leaning his head on the pillows. "Turn around, show me this little ass."

You straddle his lap how he wants it and you see Seokjin following you, gently tugging at his aching cock covered in your juices. He's long and curvy, but he looks less stiff than Jimin. You suppose he's the type to get more length when erect, unlike his friend.

"Come on, princess, put it in," Jimin smiles and you look at him, shuddering in desire at his words. "Sit on it," he insists.

"Yes, Minnie," you sigh out of exhaustion.

You take his wet cock in your hand and angle it toward your leaking hole, moaning softly when you sink down on him. The stretch of your cunt is good, feeling completely full. He twitches happily in you, Jimin extending his arms to grip your hips possessively.

You moan in unison, Jimin letting out a long grunt and you a loud whine. He doesn't reach as deep as Seokjin, but he fills you up really well.

"Oh, fuck," Jimin curses, biting down on his bottom lip out of pleasure. "Go ahead, ride me, baby," he softly demands and you oblige happily.

You start doing a grind motion, leaning on Jimin's thighs to keep your balance. He runs his palms all over your body, appreciating your curves and the way you move your hips on him to pleasure yourself.

Seokjin grips your chin, making you face his angry erection, his hand wrapped around it. "Show me how good of a slut you are, sweetheart," he sings, tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

His long fingers stroke his cock, but they stop at the base when you tilt your head down, catching his swollen tip in your mouth. He hums appreciatively and passes his fingers through your hair, now wet by your sweat. He collects your hair in an improvised ponytail, keeping them away from your face.

You bob your head over his long cock, stroking the base with one of your palms since you can't fit all of him in your mouth, your other palm still sitting on Jimin's thigh. You hear the beautiful, raspy moans of Seokjin, proud of yourself for making him feel good.

He is smoothly shaved, skin soft and sturdy under your tongue and fingertips. You love the sleek feeling of Seokjin's pubis, although you equally adore the stinging feeling of Jimin's pubic hair against your skin.

You grind on Jimin, doing little motions that are more pleasurable to you, but he still approves, muttering a 'fuck yeah' while directing your hips.

You suck Seokjin as if you were in a porno, bobbing your head over his length and moaning around him exaggeratedly. You don't know where this sudden vigour comes from, but you won't complain. Surely not when he looks impressed, in total admiration.

"Fucking slut," Jimin slurs out, pupil dilated and filled in lust at the sight of a white ring around the base of his cock left by your pussy.

You whine around Seokjin, disagreeing with him, or maybe agreeing. It doesn't matter anyway with the way you clench around him each time he throws bad words at you.

You like how they treat you, as if all those insults were deserved and justified. But they know damn well none of the things they say are true, that's why it's so exciting.

You move in slow circles, Jimin's hands grabbing and slapping your ass. Your juices are everywhere, dripping down on his balls and sticking to his pelvis. It feels a little bit nasty, but you don't think anyone in this room really cares.

It smells so much like sex and you wonder how long it'll take for the odour to go away. Knowing your friends, they could probably never open the windows just to keep the smell of you in. You would dissuade them from it, because come on, but the thought makes you slightly smile.

"Fuck, this mouth is doing wonders," Seokjin compliments and you're ravished to hear that. "Don't know how long I'll last, sweetheart," he announces, looking down at your lips gliding smoothly over his long, curvy cock.

"Same," Jimin adds in, voice raspy and breath erratic.

You're encouraged by that, pleased to know you're making them feel really good. You use your full potential and lift up your hips, dropping them back down on Jimin's dick. You love the stretch, love how his cock pushes your walls to make room for himself, being so big your pussy just can't keep his size.

You take Seokjin's in your mouth, slurping and swallowing around him. He groans, telling you how much he likes you and your wet tongue.

"Okay- Fuck," Seokjin begins, but curses when you cup his balls, innocently glancing up at him. He puts a hand on the top of your head and pushes you away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth. "I'm taking her pussy, now," he says, still looking at you even though he's addressing Jimin.

"No! Why?" Jimin complains, groaning loudly in disagreement.

"Because I want to," he says back, too stubborn to even consider another option.

"Well, you're gonna let me finish first."

As you lift up your hips, Jimin's cock pulling out of you, he's quick to turn you around and lay you down on the bed where he was positioned previously. Seokjin lets him, rolling his eyes at the childishness of his friend — even though he's not acting very mature either.

Jimin straddles your waist, stroking his cock just over your breasts, licking his lips. You watch his hand running up and down his length rapidly, all coated in your wetness and saliva of earlier.

"Shit, shit- I'm cumming," he hastily warns, fingers wrapped tightly around his dick. He was already close when he was in you, so it doesn't take long until he's brought back close to his high.

His eyes are blown out, looking at your tits like there's nothing sexier than them. His hips stutter and you place your palms on his naked thighs, feeling how hot his skin is.

"Ah! Fuck," he chokes on his words, angling his cock toward your boobs. You look at him emptying himself on your chest, long ropes of white cum landing on your breasts. He keeps stroking obsessively until he spills out everything, little white beads falling from his wet and reddened tip.

He whines a little when it starts to hurt because of overstimulation. He eventually finishes, passing a hand through his hair, removing his wet bangs from covering his eyes. His chest heaves rapidly as he tries to regain a normal breathing.

"Go away, loser."

Jimin sends a murderous glare at Seokjin before clearing the way, sitting down, back against the wall.

Seokjin penetrates you again, locking your shaky legs behind his back. You gasp when he pounds in immediately, not once missing a beat. You sneak a hand between your legs, reaching your pulsating and puffy clit left alone for too long now.

With your other hand, you swipe a finger in Jimin's cum on your boobs, picking it up and bringing it to your mouth. Seokjin watches you eating his friend's cum and he squints his eyes at you, perhaps a little jealous.

"Oh! Jinnie," you mewl, the knot in your stomach tightening from his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you and your finger drawing quick circles on your clit.

You lick more cum off your fingers, arching your back and closing your walls around Seokjin's long cock. You moan loudly when you reach your high, milky his dick and clenching repeatedly around him, bringing him close to his high as well.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His hips snap against yours and like earlier, they steady on you, cock twitching inside your pussy.

He doesn't pull out this time and paints your insides white in his cum, spurting everything he has deep into you. You sigh of contentment, loving the hot sensation of his cum in your pussy.

"I'm so full, Jinnie," you purrs and he slips out slowly, looking at his seeds dripping out of you as you hole keeps quivering and clenching from your previous orgasm.

He wets his lips, wishing he could see this everyday of the week; you full of his creamy cum. But of course, he's not the only one to want this. He'd have to share.

"Next time, I'm the one cumming inside," Jimin says from where he is, catching a glimpse of the white substance falling out of your hole. "You selfish jerk," he mutters to his friend.

Later on, after Seokjin passed a cloth between your legs and Jimin cleaned the mess he made on your breasts, you fell asleep in Seokjin's bed. The boys finished the movie without you since you were too tired, eyelids closing on their own.

They stayed up late at night, playing video games and eating ramen, sometimes giving each other stupid challenges like doing a certain amount of push-ups in a determined time.

They didn't really disturb your sleep since you were knocked out. Though you sometimes woke up from their voices, you went back to sleep easily. You don't know who slept beside you that night, but you woke up with Jimin's arm around your waist and Seokjin coming back with breakfast.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Do not ask for a part 2.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin x reader

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aesthetic-bbyg · 7 months

Text

(GIRL)FRIEND LIKE ME ~ MONKEY D. LUFFY

LA!Luffy x fem!genie!reader

in which Luffy stumbles across a seemingly quiet cave, till he trips over a genie lamp, and a flirty genie grants him all his desires

Nattie speaks: Someone needs to take my brain out my head bc these ideas be so random but I have to write or I will go insane

THE GOING MERRY WAS DOCKED at the harbor of a large town, the new place was bustling with people and full of lively music. The positivity of the place was infection, there were dancers roaming the streets kindly smiling, and on each corner was somebody singing for some spare change. The smell spices and food was intoxicating, especially for Luffy as he wandered around with curiosity. Zoro was hanging back to protect the ship, the rest of the crew roamed for supplies and whatever they could afford with the extra berry in there pocket.

Luffy wasn’t sure how he got to the echoey cavern, all he knows is that his sandals were full of sand and the busy town was far behind him. The straw-hat boy walked through the sparkly empty cave, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks letting him know that what his eyes saw were reality. There was golden shimmer gleaming deep within the walls, it looked like constellations on a starry night, if you connected them they may create a zodiac sign.

“Hey is that the big dipp—“ Luffy let out a sudden yelp, foot catching itself against something making him topple over onto the rocky surface. He looked down, seeing a shiny lamp. The engraved gems began to twinkle, blue fog slowly fizzing out the opening before it levitated from the floor. Luffy quickly stood, backing up with his fist up and ready to fight whatever the hell was coming from the possessed thing.

Through all the smoke, a woman’s body takes form, making the lamp fall and clank onto the floor. The woman or thing, stretched and yawned. “Goodness.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and looking around, eyes catching the presence of him. Your new master. You smiled kindly, tipping down your head in respect, picking up the lamp and handing it to him. “Hello, Monkey D. Luffy, thank you for releasing me, what is that you wish?”

The opened and closed his mouth, head titling to the side in utter confusion. “What—how did you—are you—where-“ The clueless boy stumbled over his words as the girl in the blue skirt and dangly gold jewelry giggled.

“C’mon, handsome, use your words, speak up!” You approached him slowly, “Need me to introduce myself? I can do a song, a poem, a speech, a dance, whatever you’d like, you choose.”

“Y-you’re asking me, what you should do?”

“Exactly!” You clasped your hands together enthusiastically, “Now you’re getting it, you’re my master, therefore, you choose what I get to do—but..” you lifted a finger, pointing it sternly at his chest, “no showing private body parts.”

Luffy blushed, face completely red and flushed as his hands coming up defensively, “No, no, I’d never ask you to do that.”

You let out another soft giggle, “I know, I’m only teasing, pretty boy.” You patted his shoulder, walking in a slow circle around him to get a full picture of your new master. “Either way I’d never expose any body parts, not unless..” Luffy glanced over his shoulder as you ran a manicured finger over his exposed shoulders, he caught a glimpse of the smirk on your lips. “You asked nicely.”

“I—I, no, I respect woman and all there body parts.” He said confidently, lowering his gaze as you walked back in front of him, his face embarrassingly flushed. “I even have a girl on my crew, and I totally respect her! She’s the navigator, one of the most important job!” With each word his voice got higher, growing nervous at the close proximity.

You smiled widely, wrapping your arms around his neck and embracing him tightly. “What a gentlemen!” You quickly pulled away, eyes wide in realization, “But, my, where are my manners!” Luffy assumed that you meant the sudden touchiness (which he didn’t mind all that much) but instead you planted a sweet kiss on his warm cheeks. “I am y/n, your genie!”

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Luffy mumbled out shyly, “What..what exactly is a genie?”

Your brows furrowed, pulling back with a confusiones expression. “You don’t know what a genie is?” The curly-haired boy shook his head in response. “Three wishes? Genie in the lamp? Ringing any bells?”

“Uh, no?”

“Wow.” You placed your hands on your hips, “Well that’s definitely a first, I just thought you were confused because you saw a total genie hottie in your presence but,” you shrugged, walking further into the cave, “I guess that makes sense too.”

Luffy followed after you, jogging to catch up to you. “So are you gonna tell me what a genie is? What was it about wishes?”

“A genie is an powerful being that resides in a lamp until someone, a master, releases them. In return, you get three wishes.” You simply explained, hiking up the mounts of jewels and gold coins. “Trust, that you’ve never had a friend like me…or girlfriend.”

“So I can wish for any three things that I want?” Luffy raised a brow, following behind you, but staring at the expensive treasure with wide eyes, too entranced to hear what mumbled at the end of your sentence.

“Yes, but I can’t make anybody fall in love with you and again, no body parts,” You paused turning back around and looking the boy up and down. “For you…” You trailed off, a flirty smirk on your lips before turning around. “I’ll double it since you’ve been so nice.”

Luffy sucked in a breath, feeling a flutter feeling in his stomach, and his face heating up one more. “Um, and where are we going, Miss Genie?”

You threw your head back in a quiet chuckle, “You know your my master, I should be the one call your mister.” You smirked, turning back to look at him. “Unless your into any other titles, I don’t judge.” Luffy could’ve nearly exploded with the comment you casually threw at him, he was sure that his face could’ve been easily compared to tomato. “And we’re going to find a mirror, it’s been nearly five hundreds years crammed up in that stupid lamp.” You huffed, sliding down a steep pit of gold coins. “Here we are.”

Luffy just watched quietly as you examined yourselves, leaning in close to the reflection to swipe back any loose hairs or adjust your jewelry. You twirled, posing in various ways. “Wait, did you say five hundreds years?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed, “And still looking this good, don’t cha think?”

“Yeah.” The boy nodded, suddenly stopping. “I the least weirdest way possible, again, I totally respect woman and I’m just saying that you are very pretty.”

“I wish every master was like you.” You reached over to leave another kiss on his cheek, “Such a sweet, handsome boy.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled out bashfully, opening his mouth to say something but the nothing ever came out. It wasn’t till he felt the words forcefully spit themselves out. “Iwantyoutojoinmycrew.”

“There it is.” You smiled, “Well, as your genie I follow where ever you go, so consider me joined.”

“Really?” His lips twisted up into a large grin, taking your wrist and guiding back out the cave. “That’s amazing! I can introduce you to everybody, we have an amazing cook and Usopp is an amazing story teller, he’ll keep you entertained when we’re out on the open sea.”

You admired the boy with a smile, hearing his rant about his ship and amazing crew, but truly you were just waiting to get your hands on him. “I know a way you can entertain me when we’re alone.”

“I’m probably not as good as Usopp.” Luffy quipped back before processing your words, “That’s not you meant, huh?”

You gave him a wink, planting a kiss near his lips, making his eyes shift away from your hypnotizing ones. “So, are you ever gonna make your first wish? You got three of ‘em now, you know.”

“I think I’ll keep them for when I really, really need them.” The boy replied. “What even happens when I run out of them?”

“I go back into my lamp.” You nodded over the golden object in his other hand, “It’s my forever home, and I’ll wait until the next master finds me.”

Luffy frowned, “Then I’ll never use my wishes!”

“Already falling in love with me, pretty boy?” You smirked, wrapping your arms around his lightly toned one. “Just can’t get enough of me, can’t you?”

“Well—I mean, your very pretty, and—but that’s not obviously the only factor! You have a great personality, and you’re part of my crew now so we gotta keep you here, cause you important, y’know.”

“Such a lady charmer, master, have any experience any others?” You raised a brow, “Any experience specifically in the bed—“

“Luffy!” Nami shouted, running towards the boy with a relieved expression. “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been calling and looking for you!”

“I was with her!” The boy happily pointed towards the smirking genie that clung onto his arm.

“Luffy here has been busy.” Sanji walked up, hands in his pockets as a teasing grin twisted into his features, his eyes examined the lipstick stained all over Luffy’s face.

“And who this?” Nami questioned with a confused expression.

“I’m y/n.” You replied, “Master Luffy’s genie!”

“Master Luffy?” Usopp questioned with furrowed brows.

“A genie?” Nami muttered in disbelief, “This must be a joke, aren’t genies a complete myth?”

“No, y/n is the real deal, she came out of a lamp and everything!” The boy lifted the shimmering lamp up proudly, showcasing it to the rest of the strawhat crew who looked dumbfounded. Minus Zoro, who always held the unimpressed look on his face. “See.”

“Have you made a wish yet?” Usopp looked at the lamp curiously. Gently he rubbed the stained gold making you sneeze.

“Excuse me.” You mumbled.

“Isn’t, like, magic suppose to come out when you rub a lamp or twenty years of good luck or somethin’?”

“That’s only if I’m inside the lamp, obviously. And that’s a myth, by the way.” You rolled your eyes, “Rubbing it while I’m outside just tickles.”

“It tickles?”

You nodded in confirmation huffing and pouting a bit in a agitated manner, unconsciously leaning closer to Luffy’s side. “Yes, it tickles—stop doing that.” You lightly smacked the boys hand away from the lamp as he continued to fondle with the thing.

“Sorry.” He handed the lamp back to Luffy, who beamed happily.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s celebrate the new member of the crew!” The boy dragged you onto the ship, showing you everything there was to know about the Going Merry, then he showed you his quarters. Very proudly boasting that it was the ‘captains quarters’ specifically.

And so the blonde chef pulled out multiple bottles of rum, commencing the start of a fun night. The crew drank the night away in traditional Pirate fashion, loosening up a bit and cheering in a drunken haze. You fed into there intoxication by showing off your magic and making more bottles of alcohol appear within an instant. They were absolutely entranced by your skills, how powerful your magic truly was, how you’d managed to hypnotize them with a wave of your hand. Luffy watched with beautiful rich, round eyes as you walked up to him, taking the strawhat from his head and digging your arm into as if it held many treasures.

The loud applause and whoops when you pulled out your hand and revealed different objects echoed on the wooden deck. The trick left a tipsy Luffy confused when you handed his empty hat back. After a few more flashy shows, you bowed with a seductive smile, exiting their line of sight and letting them go back to their celebrating. You felt a puff of pride in your chest, giggling softly and turning your head to Lu—where the hell did he go?

Your head twisted around in search of your master, frowning slightly before you caught sight of him atop of the head of the sheep, calmly staring at the dark waves. You sneaked past the crew, silently climbing up the bow and floating in front of him. You revealed your pearly canines in a flirty smirk, tilting your head to the side.

“All alone up here?” You asked softly, swinging your legs on either side ship figurine. “The crew seems to miss you.”

Luffy turned around, noticing how the partying had gone quiet and they’d all fell in a messy pile of bodies, dead asleep. He chuckled softly, eyes remaining on his crew that he cared for far too much, it warmed his chest each time he realized that he was finally a pirate. Maybe not king yet, but at least a Captain. “I think…I’m ready to make my first wish.” His slowly turned back towards you, a small smile on his lips. “All my life I wanted this, the Pirate’s life, and now that I have it, I never want to loose it.” His eyes looked back at his crew once more. “I never want to loose them.”

You scooted closer to the boy, leaning in close with a smile. “Say the words, handsome.”

“I wish,” He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision fall on his chest, “to never loose the people I care the most about.”

You eyes twinkled with a golden shimmer, hands clasping together as a bright ball of light engulfed your body, “As you wish.” You whispered, making the light disappear and a rain of blue, shiny sparkles fall onto the boy. It pricked his skin, but not enough to cause pain, he looked up as you watched him admiringly. The twinkle in your eyes no longer there because of the magic, but simply because you’d grown to adore this infectious boy in a single day. “Do you realize how special you are?”

The boy shook his head, blushing slightly as he realized the close proximity between the two of you. “I’m not special, I’m just Luffy.” You chuckle, placing a warm hand on his cheek and planting a sweet kiss on the other before you waved your hand, making the golden lamp appear on in Luffy’s lap. “Where are you going?”

“To bed.” You replied, a fizzing smoke taking over you as it sucked itself back into lamp, your figure dissolving into the thin air as if you never existed. The boy sighed, taking the time to close his eyes and breath in the salty air. The sting of your kiss on his cheek remained, the ghost of your touch burned his body as he bit his lip harshly.

“I need to sleep.” He muttered to himself, standing up and climbing down from his spot on the sheep’s head, his feet trudged across the ship and into the large cabin where a comfortable bed was stuff in the corner of the room. He placed the lamp on his desk where a variety of maps and papers, including his wanted poster of which he was very proud of, and laid down on the puffy sheets. The straw hat was laid over his face as his eyes shut, a content sigh leaving his lips. His muscle relaxed, his breath begin to slow and deepen as the world faded into black. But the darkness began to test him, revealing the one person that swirled his mind.

You.

He wasn’t sure if you’d poisoned him with your touch, but the hot, prickly sensation of you had spread to the rest of his body like a virus. A trail of goosebumps following the fire that ignited within his veins till he felt a tent form in his suddenly tight shorts. Luffy shoved the hat off his face, stretching his rubbery arm to reach for the lamp that mocked him from across the room. Gently he stroked the sides of the cool metal, making the familiar cloud of smoke appear as you landed right on his lap, straddling his hips with wide eyes. He sat up from his laying position and leaned in close, a bruising grip on your sides. “I need you.”

I’m currently knawing at bars of my enclosure and ripping out all the hairs in my scalp.

PT. 2!

#one piece #one piece live action #my man #one piece show #Monkey D Luffy #Monkey D Luffy x reader #Luffy x reader #Luffy #luffy smut #opla Luffy #opla #one piece imagine #Luffy fic #one piece Luffy #one piece smut #genie

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paradiseismine · 29 days

Text

Late Night Talking - Trevor Spengler x Reader

Love note from Nina: Aaaand I’m back again with some more Finnie cuteness and filth, lovelies. My boy Trevor is way too underrated around here, so it’s about damn time we turn those tables.

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife/Frozen Empire) x f!reader

Warnings: mostly smut, but also some fluff. Also maybe this is kinda long (?) sorry not sorry etc

Summary: you visit the Spengler’s residence for a dinner party and end up having a lot more fun than you intended, if you know what I mean

Edit: part 2 here

Your mom and Mrs. Spengler had become best friends, all of a sudden - neither of them had had much luck on that when they moved to the city, but ever since they first met in a 7/11 a month ago, they were inseparable.

It was a Saturday evening, and your mom was dragging you along to Mrs. Spengler’s house, for a dinner party of some sort. You weren’t in the mood, but she seemed so happy to finally have a new friend, you just couldn’t say “no” to her.

So, all dressed up in a cute black dress and strap sandals, you rang the doorbell.

- Oh, hello - a tall lanky boy with messy black hair opened the door. - Good evening, Mrs. y/l/n… And you must be y/n, right?

You nodded, smiling sweetly, as your mom greeted the boy as well.

- Hi, Trevor! Your mom told me all about you - she said, giving him a warm hug after she handed you the huge cake tray she was holding.

It was pretty heavy - your mom wouldn’t show up to dine at someone’s house without bringing dessert - but you could manage to hold it.

- Callie, there you are! - she squealed as she hurried to meet Mrs. Spengler in the kitchen, leaving you and Trevor behind.

- She loves your mom - you said to Trevor, chuckling.

- My mom loves yours too - he chuckled. - Hey, can I help you with that? - he continued, gently taking the cake tray off of your hands.

- Thank you Trev, that was quite heavy - you said, relieved. - Should we bring that to the kitchen?

So you both put the cake in the fridge and helped your moms with everything - from setting the table to organizing the kitchen.

You had a great time eating and talking to Callie, Trevor and his sister, Phoebe. After dinner was over, the moms opened up a bottle of wine and sat on the living room to talk, while Phoebe went to her room to sleep.

That left you and Trevor alone in the kitchen, talking. It was already close to midnight, and by the laughs you could hear from the couch, you were not going to leave the Spengler’s home for a long time. Halloween was just around the corner, so you asked Trevor if he was into horror movies.

- Hm, kind of… - he responded, finishing his glass of soda. - I think they’re way too unrealistic sometimes.

- Ugh, wish I felt like that too… Movies like Poltergeist and The Conjuring totally freak me out. I’m just afraid of ghosts, I guess.

Trevor nearly choked, but you couldn’t understand why.

- Do you like slasher movies though? - he asked, trying to move on with the conversation.

- Yeah, I love them! - you answered, excitedly. - My favorite one is Friday The 13th!

- The first one?

- The best one, right?

- Absolutely - he laughed, then pointing to your moms in the living room - I think they’re gonna take a while there… Wanna go upstairs and watch a movie? It can be Friday the 13th if you want.

- Of course, I’d love that! - you said and walked over to the living room with him.

- Mom, Trevor and I are going upstairs to watch a movie, ok?

- Sure darlings, go there and befriend! - your mom agreed, her voice sounding a bit different already. Good thing you were driving.

You two went up the stairs to Trevor’s room, still talking about horror movies and your personal favorites; but you noticed he would talk just as excitedly about any subject. The conversation was light and comfortable. Trevor was so nice to talk to. He was also really good looking. Something about his lanky figure, dark hair and dark eyes really stood out to you.

Up in his room, you couldn’t help but walk around and notice the various objects he had in there.

- Whoa, do you like Arctic Monkeys?

- Their “AM” album is, like, most of my will to live. - he chuckled. - So yeah, I like them a bit.

- That’s an instant classic if I’ve ever seen one, right?

Turns out, you and Trev had A LOT in common. You were into the same movies, the same music and even the same places to hang out. He was working up the courage to ask you on a date already.

- So, uh… y/n, would you… would you like to go to that record store downtown with me… Sometime? It doesn’t have to be like a date or-

You put your index finger to his lips, and his eyes went wide.

- But can it be a date, though? - you whispered, your finger leaving his lips as you put your hand on his cheek.

- S-sure - he stuttered. He was much taller than you, even with the heels you were wearing.

- I would love to - you smiled, your hand still on his cheek. - I could talk with you all night if you’d let me.

- Me too - he smiled, putting his arm around your waist and leaning in a bit. - Y/n… can I-can I kiss you? Or does asking that totally ruin the mood?

- Of course you can! - you laughed. - C’mere.

You leaned in and your lips touched his, lightly. You touched your forehead to his and looked him in the eyes. He pulled you even closer by your waist and kissed you again, way more eagerly this time. His tongue asked for entrance and you permitted it, in pure ecstasy.

- Hm - he broke the kiss - maybe we could move this over there? - he said, his head pointing to an armchair on the corner of his room. You nodded, your lips parted and swollen from the kiss.

Trevor sat down on the armchair and you sat nearly on his lap, but sideways, so your butt was down on the armchair and your legs were all over his lap.

He put his hands on your bare knees and caressed them gently as you continued to kiss, more slowly than before. Your dress was a few inches above your knees. Nothing too modest or too slutty, but Trevor secretly wished you were wearing the sluttiest dress possible, just so he could feel you up without actually lifting up your dress and risking getting slapped across the face.

Little did he know you were craving that touch. You lightly guided his hands a bit further up your thighs, giving him the permission he wanted. To touch your soft skin and get intoxicated by you.

You kept kissing him passionately, your hands wandering from his cheek to his neck to his chest. You grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him even closer, wanting to savor him as much as you could. He let out a soft moan on your lips, so discreet you wouldn’t be able to hear it if you two weren’t all the way upstairs in his room.

Things were getting hot and heavy pretty quickly, but isn’t it always like that when you’re young? His hands were gently caressing your upper thighs for a minute, as if he was mentally debating a way to ask you to take off your dress, but gave up on that idea.

His slender fingers gently slid your panties to the side, only to meet your soaking wet pussy. You hissed and moaned in his mouth as he kissed you hungrily while slowly playing with your clit. His touch was so light, it made you ache for more; but at the same time, it was perfect. He continued for a couple minutes, your moans in his ear increasing. That had to be Trevor’s new favorite sound.

- Trev - you called, your voice faint and breathy. He looked into your eyes. His gaze was dark and full of lust. His swollen red lips were slightly parted, ugh, he was so beautiful… - If you keep going, I-I…

But you couldn’t finish that sentence. Your back arched and your mouth cracked open, your body completely taken by that orgasm. Your eyes were closed for most of the time, squeezed in pleasure, but when you peeked through them to look at Trevor’s face, he was grinning like the devil. He got you good and he knew he did.

- You’re so pretty - he said, mesmerized, his fingers still touching your pussy until you closed your legs and he realized you had ridden out of your orgasm. - and you look even prettier when you cum.

You sat there in his lap for a moment, head on his shoulder, resting a little from such an intense sensation. Trevor had quite a cocky smile plastered on his face, seeming proud of himself for making a pretty girl cum. For getting the chance to make a pretty girl cum and succeeding.

- Alright, so not only you’re all tall and handsome and stuff, but you also got magic hands? - you said, your hair ruffled and your voice breathy.

- Magic hands? Really? - he laughed.

- I’m serious. - you said, laughing with him. - But now I feel the need to… reciprocate, you know?

Trevor’s breathing quickened. You sat on his lap properly now, one leg to each side of his waist, straddling him while cupping his face for another round of passionate kissing.

His kisses found their way down to your neck, gently nipping on your skin, making you shiver and squirm. His fingers started toying with your dress’ straps until he felt confident enough to pull them down slowly.

The black lacy bra you were wearing underneath was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but the sight of your breasts is what made his mouth water. With your dress already down to your waist, he put his arms around you to try and unhook your bra. As boys normally do, it took him a few tries, but he finally got it off of your body, his hands quickly covering your breasts again, fondling them.

Your skin was so soft and smelled so good, his kisses returned to your neck and continued their way down to your chest. Your nipples were so hard already, he simply had to take them in his mouth. One at a time, he licked and sucked gently, earning some pretty urgent moans. You knew you had to keep the volume down so your mothers wouldn’t hear you two, but that couldn’t stop you from moaning softly, just enough for him to hear. Your body was a feast and he had never been this hungry in his whole life.

- I-I thought it was my turn, Trevor - you said, softly, his lips still kissing the skin around your nipples and his hands groping your waist firmly. Damn, this boy was definitely going to drive you crazy.

Kissing his lips once again, you reached for the hem of his T-shirt and slowly pulled it upwards. He helped you take his shirt off, and his bare chest was surely a sight to be seen. Back to the kissing, your hands now wandered from his cheek, to his neck, to his chest, to his belly and…

- A-are you sure? - he asked, as you were about to touch his belt to unbuckle it. He didn’t want to pressure you into anything.

- I am pretty sure - you said with a smile, playfully kissing his nose. - Can I?

He nodded eagerly, so you unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Trevor just sat still and watched as your beautifully manicured nails were touching his belt, then his pants, then his underwear.

You knelt down in front of him, using a pillow under your knees for comfort, and pulled his body closer to the edge of the armchair. You kissed his lips one last time, then his neck, scratching his chest lightly with your long nails, causing him to moan and bite his lips to avoid making too much noise.

You kissed down his chest, your nails now scratching his waist, and finally got to his underwear.

- Can I pull these down too? - you said, your big eyes pleading.

- Yeah - he said, barely breathing. - Please.

You gave him a naughty smile and pulled down his boxers. It was impossible not to lick your lips at the sight of that cock. The perfect length, the perfect girth, and that perfect pinky tip begging to be sucked. So you did it.

You took Trevor into your mouth hungrily, as your mouth was already watering just by taking his underwear off. Your head was bobbing up and down his thick shaft, as he tried his best to hold back any louder moans.

Suddenly, he grabbed some of your hair in his right hand and pulled your mouth off of his dick gently.

- Did I hurt you? - you said, looking worried.

- No, no, princess - he answered, scared that he might’ve offended you. - It’s just… you’re so so good… and so pretty… I’m afraid I won’t last, you know?

- It’s ok babe - you reassured him, caressing his bare knee. - You pleasured me selflessly, and I’m doing the same. If you want to cum now, then do it. I’d love to get a taste…

Your mouth went right back to sucking on his dick, your both hands now also added into the mixture. After a minute or two, it was too much for him to take.

- Y/n - he called, softly. You looked him in the eyes, mouth still around his shaft. You knew what was going to happen next. - I just… Please, can I cum in your mouth?

- Mhm - you agreed, not slowing down or stopping anything you were doing.

Trevor let out a muffled groan as he came in your mouth. You swallowed his warm seed at once, gently licking his tip clean afterwards.

- Fuck, you’re a goddess - he said, his voice faint, his eyes rolling.

You laughed a little and wiped the corners of your mouth.

- And you’re a darling. I’m glad you could trust me.

- Y/n - your mom called out from downstairs. - Is the movie over already? I think we should get going…

- In a minute, mom - you yelled in response.

You turned back to Trevor as he handed you your bra and put his own shirt back on.

- I had a great time with you today, Trev. Hope we can hang out sometime.

- Of course, I’ll text you - he started - there are already so many places I thought we could go together… You might just be the best company for basically everything. Specially late night talking.

You grabbed his phone off his desk, typed in your number and handed him the phone. Realizing what you just did, he smiled and held out his hand so you would give him your phone and let him do the same.

After the exchange of phone numbers and a quick good night kiss, you two got downstairs and pretended nothing had happened.

- There you are - Callie said as she saw both of you. - What did you guys watch?

- Friday the 13th - Trevor lied for both of you. - It was her favorite horror movie, and one of my favorites too.

- Aw, how cute. I’m glad you guys are friends now - your mom said, grabbing her purse. - But those old slashers have some awkward sex scenes, don’t they? We heard their moaning from down here.

- Glad they make movies more gory and less sexually charged nowadays, right? - Callie agreed.

Your moms were drunk and probably wouldn’t remember much about tonight. Thankfully, ‘cause your face and Trevor’s got just as flushed as if you had spent the entire night sipping wine.

#finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #mike wheeler x reader #imagine #mike wheeler #miles fairchild #smut #trevor spengler

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lomlhwa · 2 months

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all american whore (e.s)

pairing: step brother!eric x step sister!reader

preview: your dad has just married eric's mom. but, you're not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right?

tags/warnings: fem reader, handjob in the back of a car, oral (69 on the edge of a pool....), fingering, unprotected penetration (BOOOO), hickeys, breast slapping, pet names (angel, slut, cock whore), 4th of july celebration (and by celebration i mean orgasms for everyone), creampie

trigger warnings: STEPCEST!!!, like two mentions of reader having a dead mom

wc: 3.0k

song recs for this fic: american horror show by snow wife, all-american bitch by olivia rodrigo

a/n: i was so invested in writing this for like 4 days good lord

“you could at least try and be a little excited, y/n. sure, you’re meeting my new wife and her son today, but it’s also the 4th of july. it’s a celebration,” your dad says to you while driving. “whoopty doo,” you say as sarcastically as possible. you can feel him glaring at you without even looking over at him. “i know you miss your mother, but it’s been over a decade, i’m moving on.”

you lean your head against the window, the air hanging heavy between you and your dad. “i’ll be nice to them but i can’t promise i’ll like them,” you say, turning to see your dad crack a small smile. “i think you will like them, pumpkin. just trust me,” you nod as he speaks.

____________________________________

as your dad parks, nerves run through you. it’s finally hitting you that you’re meeting these people that your father intends to keep in your life forever. he walks up behind you and squeezes your shoulders. “you ready, kiddo?” he asks and you give him the most unconvincing nod ever.

you walk up to the front door and knock loudly. “you’re here!” a woman cries out as she opens the door. you assume this is your dad’s wife. “hello honey, this is y/n,” your dad introduces you and you give an awkward wave. “come in, come in. eric is just upstairs playing his video games,” she ushers you in and shuts the front door behind her. “you guys can just head out to the backyard, that’s where everyone else is,” she walks over to the base of the stairs and angles her head upwards. “ERIC SOHN GET DOWN HERE,” she yells.

you walk out to the large deck in the backyard with your dad and greet lots of people you’ve never met. you notice lots of things in the very large backyard. in-ground pool, hot tub, etc. your step-mom is rich. you settle yourself in a law chair by the pool with a spiked iced tea in hand. you’re soaking up the sun when you feel a presence next to you. you open your eyes and see a man standing there. “my mom told me i had to introduce myself to you. i’m eric,” he scratches the back of his neck and turns to yell to his mom on the deck. “happy now?” his mother shrugs. he walks away from you, clearly unhappy with your presence.

as the afternoon goes on, the family gathering becomes more lively. you’re sitting on the edge of the pool with your legs in the water when eric comes to talk to you again. he slips his shoes off and plops down next to you. “here because your mom told you to?” you raise your eyebrow at him and he shakes his head. “no, i came to apologize. i’m sure you’re in the same boat as me with our parents' marriage,” he swings his legs, creating small waves in the water. you sigh, your shoulders slumping.

“you wanna go up to my room? it’s quieter and we could watch tv or something,” eric nods towards his house and you give him a small smile before getting your legs out of the pool. you grab your sandals and follow him close behind. “y/n and i are gonna hang out in my room for a bit,” eric tells his mom and she gives him a warm smile. “have fun, kids,” she says. she shoots your dad an excited look as you two walk into the house.

as you settle into eric’s bed, you feel as though this is a very intimate space to be in with your step-brother. he puts on some brainrot show as background noise and sparks up a conversation with you. despite being invested in your conversation, you can tell there’s something else on his mind. the way his eyes dart between your own eyes and your lips brings butterflies to your stomach.

eric snakes his hand onto your bare thigh, your shorts having ridden up from adjusting to sit comfortably in his bed. he strokes your skin with his thumb like it’s second nature. goosebumps rise in the wake of the soft movements from his thumb. you look at him with doll-like eyes and he can’t seem to get enough of your appearance.

slowly, his hand snakes higher and higher before his fingers are teasing the stitching of your underwear. you can tell he wants to shove his hand in there and play with your wet heat. you know his fingers can feel how wet you’re getting. he shifts his arm a little bit so he can reach his pointer finger out to brush over your clothed clit. slowly, it gets harder for you to hold the conversation.

eric leans over to whisper in your ear, despite the two of you being the only people in the room. “can i? please let me make you feel good” is all he says to you and you honestly can’t get your head to nod fast enough. you’re not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right? at your consent, he slips his fingers under the fabric of your panties and plays with your clit. small moans and whimpers escape your lips when he touches you. it feels amazing. his soft fingers on your skin lights your nerves on fire.

eric scooches closer to you so he can press kisses onto your jawline and neck. you tilt your head back on instinct, giving more access to the expanse of your throat. he slides his middle and pointer fingers into your wet hole, pumping them in and out slowly. your muscles clamp around his digits, desperate for more pleasure. “eric, oh my god,” you breathe out, your hand shooting down to hold his wrist while he fucks you. he holds your face with his other hand, making sure you’re looking at him while he fingers you.

your high creeps up on you as the tips of his fingers jab the gummy spot inside you. you arch your back as your walls throb around his fingers. “give it to me, y/n. i know you’re fucking close. cum for me,” he whispers in your ear again. you dig your nails into the skin of his wrist as you cum around his fingers. eric lets out a sinister laugh before pulling his fingers out of you. he brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks your release off of them. as you’re about to say something to him, you hear your dad’s voice. “y/n! it’s time to go home!”

____________________________________

for the next 3 days, all you can think about is eric. was what you did wrong or immoral? it can’t be. you’re not blood siblings. the only thing bonding you is your parents’ marriage. unfortunately for you, you can’t help but want more.

today must be your lucky day because your dad has some amazing news for you. “we’re going on a little shopping trip with eric and my wife today. do you wanna go there in separate cars or take one car?” your dad asks, leaning on your doorframe. “we can take one car, it’s fine with me. i’ll sit in the back with eric.”

your dad gives you a warm grin, only happy that you’re getting along with your step-brother. he pulls out his phone to text his wife about your transportation decision. not even 10 minutes later, an suv pulls into your driveway. you rush to put your shoes on before climbing into the large backseat with eric. he pats the seat right next to him, despite the whole rest of the backseat being empty. happily, you oblige. the car is chilly and eric has a blanket over his lap.

it’s about a two hour drive to the biggest outlet mall near you. so you settle next to eric, watching a movie on the laptop he’d brought with him. about 20 minutes into the drive, you notice eric shifting around uncomfortably. you take a single glance down and you know exactly what’s wrong. he’s hard. so unbelievably hard. you can see it through the blanket.

“do you want my help?” you ask in a hushed voice. eric catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he nods. luckily, he decided to wear basketball shorts, so you have easy access. you pull the waistband of his shorts and underwear down just enough to get his cock out. you wrap your hand around it under the blanket and pump him slowly. he digs his teeth into his lip to suppress any sounds coming out. you run your thumb over the pink, dripping tip and he lets out a sigh. “you okay back there, hon?” his mom asks, seeming concerned. just as he’s about to open his mouth, you start pumping faster. “y-yeah, i’m so fine,” eric responds. his mom seems to accept this answer as she goes back to looking at her phone.

“the fuck is wrong with you?” he whispers aggressively. you give him a mischievous smile as your hand continues to work on him. you stroke him with firm, mildly swift motions. his hips buck to meet your hand’s movements and you can’t help but smile at his desperation. eric slides his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. he digs his fingers into the skin of your hip as his orgasm approaches. “right there, angel, fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as his cums, his hips stuttering. white ropes of cum paint your hand and forearm. as you bring your hand to your mouth to lick it clean, he shoves his cock back into his shorts.

____________________________________

after your shopping trip, your parents drop you off at eric’s house. you walk into his empty house and plop down onto the couch. eric stands in the doorway of the living room, watching you. “you wanna swim?” he asks, nodding his head toward the back door. “i don’t have a bathing suit,” you reply, smirking at him. “swim in your underwear.” you shrug, not really minding the idea.

you rise from the couch, walking past eric towards the back door of his house. as you walk, you drop items of your clothes on the floor. first you drop your shirt, exposing your back and your black bra. next, your shorts. they left almost nothing to the imagination anyway. your black panties hug your hips and ass in a way that almost sends your step-brother into a frenzy. you peel your socks off last, throwing them into a corner. finally, you reach the pool. you dive in head first, drenching yourself head to toe. “you coming?” you call out to eric, who’s been a statue since you started stripping.

you can barely see him from the pool but you can tell he took his slides off and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. he comes darting out the door, diving into the pool the same way you did. when he comes back up, he flips his hair out of his face. you’re holding onto the edge of the pool and watch his movements. he swims over to you, halting in front of you. there’s a moment of silence between you before he grabs you by the back of the head and crashes your lips together.

eric kisses you like it might kill him if he doesn’t. the kiss is sloppy and full of saliva. he kisses you like he’s been poisoned and your lips are the only antidote. your hands travel to his exposed chest, digging your nails into his chest. he groans against your mouth and the sound goes straight to your core. you wrap your legs around his waist underwater and he kisses you harder.

“i wanna fuck you, but not here. not now. let me taste you,” he whispers against your lips as if someone will hear you. you nod, but suddenly a better idea comes to your mind. “get out of the pool and lay on your back,” you instruct, also pulling yourself out of the pool. eric follows suit, doing what you told him to. you stand by his head and shimmy your wet panties off. you throw them onto the lawn before turning back to eric.

you put both feet beside eric’s head and lower yourself slowly, sitting on his face. his tongue almost immediately darts out to taste you and you fall forward, catching yourself with your hands on his hips. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your core further onto his face. with trembling hands, you push his shorts down his thighs. he lifts his hips to help you in sliding them off him. you lay your torso down and take his cock into your hands. you stroke it a couple times before spitting on the tip.

you take the first half of his cock into your mouth, already choking around it. he moans against your pussy, his hips bucking into your face. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly. your knees fight to squeeze around his head but you don’t let them. you stroke the portion of his cock that you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to work an orgasm out of him. you bob your head up and down rhythmically. eric eases two fingers into you and they follow the same rhythm as your head.

your orgasm creeps up on you faster than you would’ve liked it to, but you can tell he’s close too. you pull your mouth off of him to let out a high-pitched squeal when he curls his fingers inside you. “ah, fuck, i’m gonna cum,” you exclaim, clenching around his digits that are abusing your hole. “me too, angel,” eric replies. his voice is so husky and strained that it almost sends you over the edge.

you manage to pump him a few more times before toppling over the edge. you shake above him, your thighs clamping down on his head. the noises you make as you cum send him into his orgasm. he releases onto your face and neck, causing you to flinch a little. you roll off of him, laying naked from the waist down on the warm concrete. when you sit up, you hear a car roll into the driveway. eric shoots up and give you an ‘oh shit’ look. you both bolt into the house, grab all your clothes and rush up the stairs. he barely closes his door before your parents open the front door. you can hear them talking and laughing about something but you’re too focused on how fast your heart is beating.

you collapse onto his floor, laughing about how close you were to getting caught. eric listens for the movement of your parents, trying to find out what they’re doing. relief washes over him when he hears them leave again. he turns to you to find that you’re moving to put your clothes on. “don’t you fucking dare.” he walks over to you and hooks his arms under yours, lifting you off the floor and onto his bed. you rest your body weight on your elbows and watch as he admires your body.

eric runs his hands up your thighs and spreads your legs for him. he pulls you so you’re almost hanging off the edge of his bed. “please, angel. let me fuck you. i need to know how that pretty fucking pussy feels,” it almost sounds like he’s begging you. your core throbs as he speaks. “please,” is all you can muster as a response. eric grabs the base of his cock, lining up with your wet hole. “god, you’re gonna be my fucking slut. right, angel? a whore for my, ngh, cock. gonna ruin you for everyone else. you’re only ever gonna want me” he shoves himself into the hilt before pausing.

your walls pulse around him, trying to adjust to his size. before you’re fully adjusted, he starts to thrust. his cock abuses your hole and it feels so fucking good. you wrap your legs around his waist as he uses you. “god, it’s like you were made for me. such a good cock whore. you’re taking me so well.” roughly, he pulls your bra down to expose your breasts. he slaps both of your breasts, leaving bright red marks. you cry out in pleasure, your back arching. “such a whore for your step-brother. what would your father say?” he teases.

he leans down and connects his mouth with the plush skin of your breast. he sucks on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark. he continues the same motions a couple more times, leaving your chest riddled in his love bites. “you’re fucking mine. you hear me?” he says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “say it. say it and i’ll make my sweet angel cum.” the idea of finally cumming makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“fffuck eric, i’m yours. i’m all fucking yours,” you cry out. your orgasm is right there. “good fucking girl. so obedient,” he slaps your chest again, leaving a bright handprint. “where do you want me to cum?” eric asks as his thrusts speed up and become sloppy. “inside, inside, god please inside of me,” you beg, your pussy clamping down on him. he chuckles at your desperation. he connects his pointer finger with your clit, rubbing it in circles. “cum. cum for me right now, slut.”

the combination of his words, his motions on your clit and his cock abusing your wet cunt sends you crashing over the edge. you cry out loudly, a string of curses erupting from you. he quickly follows suit, spilling his seed into your weeping hole. you both rest for a few moments, feeling his cum seep out around his cock. you wipe sweat off your forehead before looking at him.

“we can never tell our parents.”

#lomlhwa #the boyz #tbz #eric sohn #the boyz smut #tbz smut #eric sohn smut

177 notes · View notes

rippersz · 7 months

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𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝕴𝖓 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖘

Medusa!Larissa Weems x Blind!Reader (wlw/fluffy/mythological)

"You and only you, can make the rest of my life peaceful," ~ Madeleine Smith

~~~~~~~~

A gentle ebb and flow threaded through the leaves and water. The small waves in the river went forward, the green strands of the grass went back, and so in tune they were when the other changed direction. Forward and back and back and forward. They paid no mind to the birds - those of which flitted from one nest to the other. Nor did the rabbits or deer, grazing and passing through, interrupt their little dance. Forward and back and back and forward. The fish swam with no place in mind and the wolves were silent in their daily musings - tasked to do with whatever it was that wolves were tasked to do on such a sweet day.

The snow of the previous season had been shed; soaked into the ground over the past two weeks while the sun stretched her arms over her head and yawned with a big hello. She carried Spring along with her and spread her over the ground, making love until evening so that the fruits of their desire fell into seeds. Figs, apples, berries, nuts, and foliage dotted the bushes, the nettle, and the trees. All slowly growing ripe in their waiting, blooming in large families to match the quick growth of the flowers. White flowers, pink flowers, red flowers, yellow flowers; lilacs and lavenders and daisies and on the far side of the traveled grounds, even roses.

It was picturesque. Undisturbed. Serene in a way that many places weren’t. The breeze was constant and fresh and the sun peeked from behind big fluffy clouds, announcing her presence with a soft whisper.

And so beautiful it was that she was perfectly content with leaning beside the stone wall of the cave’s entrance; eyes trained on nothing but the journal in her hands. It was worn and old, made from leather with a latch clasp that was slowly rusting, but it was thick and good - full of notes and ideas and places and numbers. 1546 years of being alive as she was, tallying each day until the bitterness overwhelmed the distinct pride of prolonged survival and the tallies became a thing of the past. After all, there was no need to count when the days weren’t numbered.

Sure, there was a bounty on her head, but that didn’t matter. Not in the glory of a new Spring. There was no room for bloodshed on such a beautiful afternoon - and so she was not worried about a bumbling blistering fool with a great ego and dull blade. And so she was not worried about a feral creature with no regard for predator and prey dynamics. And so she was not worried about a-

“AGH!”

-woman?

Her head snapped up, rousing small hisses from the slumbering children.

The woman, she quickly confirmed, had fallen into the river. On her hands and knees, she wavered in the current and let out little sounds- huffs and grunts and even a small curse of ‘Gods, honestly!’- while she scrunched up the fabric of her skirt in her hands and struggled to her feet. Her hair, scraggly and unclean, hung over her face, wet at the ends and dry at the top.

A part of her felt the need to offer assistance, but common sense told her to stay put - and only to watch. Eventually, as time would say, the strange woman managed to trip her way over to the river’s bank and press her hands into the mud and rock. Then she scrambled up, her sandaled feet working in earnest to help lug her body over the edge and finally- finally- leave her belly up in the grass, heaving great breaths of air. Up and down her chest fell while she faced the sky. Her skirt, patterned and brown, hung below her knees and stuck to her legs; and the shirt, white and flowing and clearly a bit too big for her frame, turned see-through with the water-lined hem that rested against her sides. Her feet were bare in her simple sandals and aside from a blue worn shoulder bag- one that strapped sideways along her front- there was nothing particularly distinct about the stranger. She was just a woman returning home. Or a woman searching for something. Or a woman on a mission to provide for her family.

But whichever she was, woman with a purpose or not, she was no friend. And so she made no move to leave her cave and instead, sat, and returned to her journal.

So the breeze passed.

And the clouds strolled.

The river went forward. And the grass went back.

And for a good long while, nothing happened.

Then there was a shuffling, and a noise of effort, and a soft simmer of hisses began to rise. Feeling the slow slipping of movement on top of her head, she looked up.

The woman had gotten to her feet, apparently done with her momentary bask in the sun, and began ringing out the water at the bottom of her skirt. The bag she had was on the ground, and everything in it was spread out on the grass. From her point by the cave, a good distance away, she could see a few bits of light clothing, a comb, a small stone knife (which needed a good sharpening), and two wrapped bits of woven leaves and twine. There was no scent of meat in the air, aside from the flesh of the fauna within the forest, so she figured the woman most likely carried berries and nuts for nutrition. Which was, judging by the contents on her person, certainly not enough in an effort to run away.

The woman looked up. Her body jumped - like a spooked young doe, and her own body tensed. Silently, she told her children to hush. Then she thought, wished,-

‘Don’t turn your head. Don’t turn your head. Don’t turn your head. Don’t-’

Apparently deciding that there was nothing to worry about, the stranger kept her back turned to the cave and went back to wringing out her clothing. The hisses and movement had ceased, but the children were still vigilant - watching with perceptive sapphire eyes as the stranger then began to- oh!

She looked away, turning her head so quickly that the children jerked with her. One of the younglings instantly took the opportunity to slide along the shell of her ear and give a mean rumbling clicky-hiss. Absent-mindedly, she reached up to flick the child back into place; paying more attention to her own behavior than anything else.

The woman had reached to take off her shirt- to draw it above her midriff and throw it onto the grass. The river, mixed with the Springtime air, was a good place to stop and bathe, she supposed. It was her plan later anyway to go for a dip herself, if not to feel clean then to at least wash the little companions she carried with her. But the woman beat her to it. And in the silence as she averted her gaze, ignoring the blush of heat on her pale cheeks, the soft sounds of clothing hitting the ground some feet away filled the air. And when that was said and done, a few splashes and small shrieks - drawn from the chill of the river.

When it was quiet, and she was comfortable enough to sneak a look, she found the woman’s back turned to her still. Her hair was wet and slicked, sticking slightly to her neck as she turned this way and that and- oh. She had soap too. So that must have been in one of the two woven bundles.

‘Hm. Smart.’ But not entirely. It wasn’t good to stay long bathing out in the open. Hunters and gatherers and silly stupid mortals had a habit of coming around at the most inopportune times.

She knew that very well.

Though… since the woman was washing up near her cave… there was no harm in observing the scenery. No harm in taking interest in the sun. No, not at all. They would each have their privacy, and as long as the woman didn’t turn around, everything would be fine. And she could keep an eye out… for birds, of course. Not hunters. No no.

So that’s how it went.

The woman bathed, humming to herself, keeping her back to the cave and turning only to lather soap on another part of her body. Completely unaware of the forest creatures watching her. And one creature in particular made it her mission to watch the land, observing and peering; hearing the crackles of branches and chirping of baby birds, listening for footsteps or voices. But none came. And soon enough, the woman was rising from the river, putting on her sandals, and going to sit on the laid out skirt from earlier. She had no cloth to dry off… and so would use the sun.

‘Hm. Not so smart.’ A hiss or two from her children told her they agreed.

It was not right for a woman to be so vulnerable like that. And out in the open. If she weren’t there, the stranger could be hurt. Or worse - killed. But it was good then that she wasn’t alone, wasn’t it? That she had a guardian of sorts… who would kill her too if only she looked her way.

Did- had she fallen asleep?

Like that?

In the middle of the grass with her belongings spread around her and her body, soft and nude, bared to the sun?

‘Is she mad?’

Maybe she was. Or maybe she was just young. Maybe life hasn’t hurt her too severely just yet. And maybe Larissa was being harsh.

Hm.

Well.

It didn’t really matter either way. There was nothing else to do, and though the stranger wasn’t really ‘company’, she was still action. So there was no desire to chase her off and there was no desire to see her maimed - thus, Larissa sat. She tucked long pale legs beneath her, shifted the white chiton to fall on her shoulders just so, and kept her journal close at hand. Night was due to fall soon enough, as it always did in early Spring, so the tools for a fire were already prepared behind her - waiting to be utilized and set later. Hopefully the woman would be gone by then.

But she wasn’t.

At some point, she’d gotten up to change into different clothing; a dress hand-stitched from red dyed fabric. It was pretty, yes, but not very practical for running away.

‘But good clothing was probably the only thing she had.’

Which was most likely true, Larissa mused. Many young women, richer than most, took it upon themselves to run away. Their reason for doing so depended on who they were. The stranger in the red dress, who decided to lay on the grass and fall asleep again, was a woman of status but not to the point of being a royal. If that were the case, there’d be men on horses trailing close behind. Unless they hadn’t found her yet… and were using dogs to track her scent…

The children stirred, hissing with disdain and fear.

She watched the young woman with anxious eyes.

Such a naive thing could lead to her death, once and for all…. and how ironic would that be. A scorned woman with a passion for soft things… destroyed by a soft woman with a passion for a free life. Had they both wanted that at one point? Or was it still something they desired?

The children settled. She continued to watch the land.

But eventually, as Spring would have it, the peacefulness of the quiet had her lulling off to sleep as well. And she only awoke to the feeling of soft kitten licks at her cheekbones. The repeated lap at her skin had her groaning and flicking the offender away - only to have two more slide up and continue twice as hard.

“Ugh, what is it?” She groaned, scrunching her eyes together before pushing herself upright.

The licks turned to urgent hisses- and her darlings started writhing with anxiety- telling her to get up! And if possessed, she stood quickly and looked out into the sudden dark of night. The sun had disappeared. There was not a single light out there in the black. But there was movement. Breath.

The woman. She was still asleep. Dreaming about whatever it was that women liked her dream about.

Larissa frowned.

Well she couldn’t just leave her out there, could she? No! That was- that was… inhumane. Terrible. A fate worse than anything. And if she woke up to the screams of the stranger- if she woke up to her pain… she could risk killing everyone in sight. Literally.

A young king nipped at her ear.

She huffed. Well. It just wouldn’t do. It just wouldn’t do at all.

And so she collected the fabric of her chiton in her clawed hands and marched forward to the sleeping beauty. The creatures were stiff with observation, keeping their reptilian eyes sharp and alert as she moved - quiet as a snake and dangerous as… well. Herself.

When she was finally standing over the stranger, she let the cloth fall from her hands. The woman, in comparison to her, was short. And vulnerable. And maybe she’d just take her to the edge of the nearest village… or something like that. Something far from her cave and her life. But as she finished slipping the woman’s belongings into her bag (which had since dried from her fall in the river), a whisper rumble of thunder from the clouds above had her sighing. Well. A Spring storm was usually a good sign of the incoming year, but to have one so early was… less than favorable. Her plans, too, were foiled. The children quite disliked the rain, and getting her own clothing wet was something she desperately wanted to avoid (the heavier material took much longer to dry than what the strange woman wore - so she’d have to resort to at least another change of clothes for a day. Which she seldomly tried to wear.)

‘Well. We can’t leave her out here. So as long as she keeps her back turned, we won’t have any trouble now will we?’

No, probably not. Hell for all she knew, the woman could sleep through the whole night and then she could put her back outside in the morning and she could tottle off on her way as though nothing ever happened. Or she could wake up in the middle of the night and take Larissa’s head. Yes. Or that could happen. Which would really be quite terrible. Most likely painless, but still terrible.

The thought of that had Larissa pausing. The woman’s sling bag fell limp in her hand.

Was she taking too big of a risk? Never before had she helped a stranger like that, but she was not unfamiliar with such kindness. It was hard to find in her years, but she’d witnessed the sweetest acts of tenderness amongst strangers. Usually between two women.

She frowned. Some of her children turned, peering over to look down at the sleeping stranger.

Her hair covered her eyes and her limbs were spread out like she was sleeping on the comfiest bit of cloud that ever existed. Like she had no cares at all. It was both endearing and confusing. How could a woman sleep so soundly in the wilderness? How could a woman sleep so soundly in the open? Did her lack of awareness make her an omen of danger? Or was she a passing soul Larissa could provide help for? Someone to make her feel like she was human again… Like she was capable of being good instead of being what she… was.

A flash of lightning in the distance, above the forest before her, told her it was time to hurry up. Spring held no qualms about trapping the world in a downpour, and she didn’t feel like trekking through mud before bed.

So making up her mind quickly, Larissa slung the stranger’s bag over her shoulder and bent down to pick her up. She tried to be mindful of her sharp fingers when sliding her hands beneath the woman’s back and thighs; though surprisingly, for all of her mortal weight, she was easy to carry. Strength, Larissa had figured early on into her ‘new life’, was one of the very few advantages she’d gained after her transformation. But never before had she picked up a human. And never would she do it again as she realized how difficult it was to keep from jostling them. She was just so… limp. Her head lolled a little bit and her arms ragdolled and she looked more like a young woman than an adult stranger. But nonetheless, Larissa carried her back to the cave. The children were silent, understanding somehow that they were not to wake the mortal with their clicks and hisses and little rattling sounds. As endearing as their mother found it, the human would not take too kindly to their existence - before she turned into nothing but a statue, of course.

‘Don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up,’ Larissa thought desperately to herself as she padded into the cave and placed the woman onto her bed. There was nowhere else for her to rest, and it wasn’t like Larissa was planning on getting much sleep in her company anyway, so onto the little nest of stolen blankets, wool, and pillows she went. Slipped so easily from Larissa’s pale arms - and then cared for even more when she went about gently turning her around onto her side, belly facing the cave wall, before pulling the mismatched bed coverings up to her shoulders.

The thunder and lightning from the world beyond was growing more intense by the second, striking a worried chord in her heart that had her quickly placing the woman’s bag beside her body and flitting around to get her home comfortable for the evening. The routine followed as it did every night. Gently unwind the twine that holds back the bramble, vine, and leaf-woven curtains to each side of the cave wall; being careful of the sap-gum that held everything in place. Then gently arrange the curtains, as thick and prickly as they were, to cover the entirety of the cave’s entrance. Once that is finished, move around in the dark for the corner in which the fires are conducted - then go about striking the rock and the wood and adding the sticks and gathering a flame and letting out a sigh of relief when the warm glow fills the grey emptiness of the space.

She had planned on going hunting that evening, before sundown, but the stranger stole all of her attention away; and searching for meat during a storm was a fruitless mission. They were both lucky then that Larissa had enough forethought to search for various nuts, grains, and fruits the day previous. They were stored away behind the fabric of her pillow… which was preoccupied by the woman’s sleeping head.

The world rumbled as Larissa propped herself up against the cave wall. There was never much to do besides ponder, write, sleep, and hunt… so she turned back to her journal, deciding to spend some time detailing the woman she came across. Her hand moved with sharp twirls and scritches, writing of how strange the mortal was; how innocent; how peaceful she looked sleeping in her bed, completely unaware of the monster that lurked behind her. Like a daisy in a pretty green field… soon to be trampled beneath the hungry paw of a bastard wolf; left without the gift of seeing so she couldn’t even anticipate her untimely death. It was rather sad. It was rather brutal. No woman deserved a fate such as that - for she was only running away and did not think she would be dragged into the cave of a beast.

As the embers of the flame died, the woman continued to sleep. There reached a point where Larissa thought she was dead. Despite being able to hear the warm thump of her heart, she still stood and loomed over the stranger - only to find that yes, she was still alive. Just resting.

‘Must have been quite a long journey if she’s been asleep for that long,’ she mused to herself, turning away to tend to the puttering glows of their fire.

Though as soon as the rain started, coming down in thick pats upon the mud outside of the cave, the huddle of blankets in her bed stirred, and her children stood - turning to glare at the sound. A soft swishing fell into the thunderstorm’s undercurrent as the woman moved her legs, kicked them out to stretch, groaned softly beneath her breath, and turned onto her back. She pawed at her hair, eyes still closed, and Larissa reached up to wrap her index finger and thumb around the snout of her eldest child.

‘Don’t speak,’ she quietly commanded the bunch, ‘I do not want to be the last thing she sees.’

But the crackling of the fire, paired with its warmth and light, had the woman releasing a confused hum as she shuffled onto her hands and pushed herself up to sit. Larissa watched, silent, while the stranger slowly came back to her senses and regained consciousness.

“Is there- what-” she spoke, soft voice trailing off into a myriad of inaudible questions.

The child in her grasp wriggled, having had enough of its mother’s scolding, eager to rejoin the others in their free scrutiny. She finally let it go, tapping its pale head with the tip of one finger, and then slid the journal from her lap and placed it onto the cave’s floor as quietly as she could. Spooking the woman was the last thing she wanted to do, but as she stood to her full height and gently pulled some of the loose fabric of her chiton closer to her body, the stranger jumped anyway - and instantly got to her feet.

Larissa’s heart stopped, tripping over itself as she jerked her head down.

“Wh-Who’s there?! What do you want with me?! I have a knife!!” The stranger’s voice, scared and loud, full of false bravery, was quieted by the rain and thunder.

‘You don’t have a knife. You don’t know where it is,’ was Larissa’s inner thoughts- right as the woman began murmuring to herself.

“Wait. Where is the knife…” and only when there was the dull sound of knees dropping onto fabric, did Larissa finally bring her blue eyes up.

The woman, in her absence of the knife… went looking for it. On her hands and knees… patting the ground… searching through the fabrics of the bed and slapping her soft palms against the stone of the cave’s floor… frantic and confused…

Larissa frowned.

“It’s in your bag.”

—

You jumped, letting out a harsh breath while your heart skipped up into your throat.

“Who goes there?! Who are you?!” Your voice was shrill, loud and scared as you forgot about the knife and went pushing yourself back up into your feet. “I-I know how to fight!” You yelled into the darkness, putting up your fists.

It was a lie of course- you had no idea how to fight- but that didn’t matter. As long as the person- woman?- thought you were tough enough to hold your own.

But when you huffed and puffed and bared your teeth, keeping your fists up, nothing happened. Complete silence filled the air, interrupted only by the rain and the flicker of a fire nearby. You could feel its warmth on you even in your panic - even as you stepped back and back and back until your shoulders hit something hard behind you. It was a wall; a curved imperfect wall that told you you weren’t in a cabin or home with extremely open windows, somewhere in the woods, but were instead in… in… well. You didn’t actually know. It’s not like you could see and just find out. Though despite that, you still looked around wildly - keeping your ears open for movement.

There was none.

You frowned.

“…How… are… you…?” It was a woman! The voice, spoken in front of you, across whatever space you were in, was smooth and deep. Accented. She sounded strange. Foreign. And also incredibly confused. Almost… astounded? Like she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“Don’t make me ask again,” you warned, reminding yourself that some women could be just as dangerous as men, “what do you want with me?”

“Blind…” came the soft response; so quick- it was in the air before you finished speaking; so quiet you had to strain to hear. “You’re… blind.”

Well. Yes. It was a rather defining feature; one that many noticed and took advantage of. One that people thought they could ‘work with’ and use to trick you - but you were clever. And strong. And personable in a way that many didn’t expect. The stranger across from you though… she was still just another potential danger. Still just a thing to be aware of. And so you cleared your throat and nodded, putting your hands at your sides and curling them into fists.

“Yes. I am. And what about it?” You sniffed, tilting your head up, trying to seem braver than you were.

No amount of cleverness, after all, could save a blind woman from a tricky death. If the river you had fallen into earlier was a cavern or a very deep pit, you would have been finished. Thank goodness you took advantage of it at the time.

“…Nothing. I apologize. I have- never met a blind person before,” the woman spoke, stilted and cautious. Still with an undercurrent of awe in her voice. It was peculiar, the way she was acting, but you shrugged it off. The apology was unexpected but not unwelcome. It had you squinting into the nothingness of your vision.

“Well. Now you have.” You nodded, suddenly feeling rather awkward.

—

Yes. She had. You were right.

Right and blind.

Blind. Unable to see.

The children froze, and she felt the way they looked at each other, unsure and confused. No doubt wondering ‘What issss happening?’ They were too familiar with mortal skin turning grey and hard at the smallest glimpse in their direction to understand what was happening. All they knew was their mother and solitude. And she, likewise, had no concept of how to deal with a stranger that did not want to- or simply couldn’t- kill her.

The milky color of the stranger’s eyes, although rare and odd, was beautiful. Like the wispy white of the clouds when they blanketed the moon at midnight. Light and dark at the same time… grey under a matter of circumstance. The cherry on top of the woman’s strange existence. Shocking to a new face but glorious to a trained eye. Her children observed the mortal with unending curiosity; casting violence aside as they slithered to their tallest heights and curled down, swaying their small pale heads. The situation was lost on them, but that didn’t matter. They’d understand eventually. Perhaps when the woman was gone the previous morning and she could muse over the mortal out loud to herself.

But until then,

“Are you hungry?” She wasn’t sure what else to ask.

—

You felt your stomach rumble- speaking to you as though the mention of eating had woken it up from its slumber.

“Um yes… you’re not going to poison me though, are you?”

There was a short gasp.

“Goodness, no. Why would I do that?”

She sounded so outraged- so shocked by your question- that you almost smiled. You couldn’t see her expression, but there was sincerity in her velvet voice. Like she was genuinely surprised, if not offended, that you’d ask her of all people that. It didn’t matter if you’d asked in slight jest or not; she didn’t seem to understand the consequences that came with literal blind trust.

“Some people like to take advantage,” you murmured, shrugging at the same time. Most women understood what you meant. People during that time, men in particular, saw the weak souls of the world and let their eyes light up with the chance to exert power. It was common. It was difficult. The woman opposite you, you were nearly certain, understood the sentiment as well.

“I–… yes. I realize that,” she stated, her voice growing firm. “But I’m not going to poison you. I’m not a m-” There was a soft hissing hush that filled the air, cutting into her words with a sharp strength you couldn’t ignore

What on Earth…

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” was the quick response. “I have nuts and berries I found not too long ago. Will that be enough?”

Your brow furrowed. What was she hiding?

“Um yes- yes that would be lovely… thank you.”

And with that, the stranger let out a hum and went walking around, shuffling along to grab a few things while you stood there on (what you assumed was) her bed. It was soft; pillowed with linens and fabrics and blankets that felt as though they’d come from all over the world when you shifted from one foot to the other. You frowned at the odd feeling and stepped off of the coverings- not wanting to flatten or dirty her sleeping area. It was kind of her to even put you there in the first place; though you wondered if she’d carried you herself or dragged you along. Not many women in your time, or the village where you were from, had the strength or initiative to pick up another woman and carry her anywhere, let alone their own bed. But if you were dragged along the grassy terrain outside, you surely would have felt the bumps and stops, no?

Either way, as soon as you stepped onto the hard ground of- well- wherever- you were at, you turned to the sound of movement and cleared your throat.

“And um… thank you for taking me here. Keeping me safe. You didn’t have to do that, but you did anyway. So- I appreciate it.” You fidgeted; keeping your hands at your waist and picking at the soft skin around your nails.

The shuffling paused.

“…You’re welcome.” The stranger replied softly.

It was almost like she wasn’t sure what to say. Like she didn’t hear the words ‘thank you’ very often. Like maybe she didn’t come into contact with people very often. And perhaps she didn’t. How else could she have found you if she didn’t live away from civilization? It wasn’t unheard of; it was just not very common. But, as you always said, to each their own. There was no room for judgment, after all - the woman probably ran away in a similar fashion as you did. In the very beginnings of morning, before the sun even rose, with everything you could think to carry in a satchel slung across your shoulders, heading out into the world as though it wouldn’t prove to be as dangerous as the life you left had been. The only difference being that nothing could make you want to return to that - not even the scary sounds that came out of the forest at night. The woman, even if only for one evening, was a saving grace.

And still a stranger.

She puttered around some more, dragging soft things across the ground- leaf bowls you assumed- and poured water into clay cups.

“I never got your name, you know. So I can remember you.” It was a hesitant thing to say, but you figured that if you somehow made friends with the woman, you could come back to her one day if you ever needed the shelter. Or the company. The world was tough, after all; and not always did a woman succeed on her own.

That woman had, though.

That woman, who stopped her actions again and allowed the combined ambience of the rain and fire to melt into the space.

That woman, who inhaled sharply before exhaling into one spoken breath:

“Larissa.”

(Thank you for reading! Do let me know if you'd prefer the other layout/way of editing with the text dividers and character gifs. This Medusa thing may become a little series like Cannibal Larissa. Let me know what you think? Until next time, darlings - Rip x)

~~~~~~~~

(Tags [please know that Tumblr will not let me properly @ some accounts] : @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet )

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ckret2 · 4 months

Text

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor.

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say.

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic)#grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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queuestarter · 4 months

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(finnick odair x reader)

cw: none

link to the request → finnick and reader get pregnant and have a shotgun wedding

open to finnick requests !!

“Wake up.”

You straddle Finnick’s hips as he sleeps, slapping at his chest to get him to wake up even sooner. He scrunches his nose at the gentle slaps, so you resort to the next best thing.

“Finnick,” you drawl, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him firmly. “Wake the hell up.”

His eyes slowly open, a smile growing on his face when he sees you on top of him. “Well, hello. Good morning to me.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t find it in yourself to get annoyed with him. “I have good news. Do you want to keep being annoying or do you want to hear it?”

Finnick flips you both over so that now he’s laying on top of you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I’m up for some good news.”

“Sure seems like it.”

“I am!” He insists.

“I guess I’ll just say it then. We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant.” A smile immediately breaks out across your face. You haven’t said the words out loud yet, so just acknowledging it is making you ecstatic.

Finnick pulls away from where he was kissing your skin quickly. “What? Are you serious?” His eyes frantically search yours. When you nod, he sits up fully and starts punching the air.

“What are you doing,” you giggle, hand covering your mouth. “What kind of reaction is that?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” He continues to punch the air before launching himself at you. “I did that. That’s my baby in there.” He kisses your lips twice before moving down to your stomach, which is currently covered by one of his shirts. He lifts up the fabric before speaking to your belly. “Hello, baby. It’s me, your daddy. You don’t know it yet, but this is the best moment of my life.”

You bury your face in your hands. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“Let’s get married,” Finnick says suddenly, pulling away from your skin. “Right now.”

You pull your hands away from your eyes and look at your boyfriend. His smile is so bright and his entire being is just radiating warmth. Without much thought, you nod enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do it.”

Finnick’s smile only grows wider, which you didn’t think was possible. “Right now?”

“Yes!” You insist, getting up off the bed. “Go get dressed.”

You pick out a little white sundress that’s been sitting in the back of your closet for years. You grab some sandals and pull your hair back into a low bun. Finnick chooses a flowy white top and a nice pair of pants.

You two leave your house hand in hand and make your way to the beach. Finnick carries a woven net and you carry a small bowl that will be filled with sea water.

The two of you stand on the shoreline, quietly whispering the words of your district’s wedding song to one another, each verse broken up by small giggles and wandering hands. Finnick drapes the net over your heads and you brush each of your lips with the ocean water.

When the two of you kiss, it’s salty and short, but you decide that it’s the best kiss of your life. There’s no one there to witness you and Finnick’s matrimony, but neither of you care.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” Finnick says, still under the protection of the net. “You’re everything.”

Your eyes well up. “I love you, Finn. You and this baby and this life we’ve built together.”

You two kiss once more before walking home.

#finnick odair #finnick request #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick imagine #finnick odair x y/n #finnick x reader #hunger games #thg finnick #lane's writing

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notjustjavierpena · 8 months

Note

Is Sebastian Peña born yet? I need more husband!javier!

Visit (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Yes, omg, Sebastian is born. He’s a little sweet virgo baby with big brown eyes and soft hair on his head. Javier is actually picking up the children while you sleep so they can say hello to their new baby brother!!!

Word count: 700

Tags: Soft soft soft, children are cute menaces, newborn babies are small, fluff and love, hospitals, postpartum

Visit

There’s an open window in your hospital room which creates a late summer draft when someone enters through the door. Lucas bounces in and is just about to say something. From the look on his face, a look of excitement at seeing his mother, you can tell that the volume of his voice will be too loud for what your exhausted body can handle, so you instinctively hold a finger up to your lips, “Shh, easy, mijo. Baby’s sleeping.”

“Hi Mom,” he says quietly but with the biggest grin on his face. He still half-runs to your side but you choose not to comment on it because he sports the same enthusiasm as his father, “Is the baby he—“

Lucas’ eyes widen when he spots the tiny human that’s resting on its stomach on your chest. He animatedly looks from his little brother to you, “Mom!”

“Lucas,” you shush him again, “I know you’re excited, but I need you to be quiet, okay?”

“Okay,” he looks apologetic, hands curling around the metal bed’s railing. He pushes down on it to stand on his toes, watching curiously as Sebastian searches around your sweat-slicked skin with his tiny hands.

Javier enters a little after his son with Inés resting on his arm, catching your eyes and mouthing a ‘hey momma’ whilst Inés talks loudly. She is as wild and unpredictable as she is at home, but Javier manages to quiet her down - right until he puts her down on the floor.

Her sandals make a racket of noise when she bounds across the linoleum flooring, and you immediately put a hand on your newborn’s back to soothe the little flinch he does. It’s not her fault; she’s just happy to see her baby brother, even more so to see her mother. You’re usually not away from your kids this long.

Lucas turns to his little sister before either you or Javier can say anything. He tries to look important, “Shhh! Inés! The baby’s sleeping.”

Whilst you share a look with your husband, Inés clasps her hands over her mouth, voice muffled comically as she speaks, “Sorry!”

You chuckle softly and Sebastian hiccups at the sound.

Javier walks up to crouch down to your daughter, peeling her hands away and holding them in his own, “We have to be quiet and calm around the baby, mija. He has little ears that can’t handle big noises like you can… Would you like to say hello?”

Inés nods slowly. Javier stands upright again then walks to your bed with Inés’ tiny hand in his own, and he lifts her up to sit on his hip once again so she can have a proper look at the baby.

“He’s so tiny!” She exclaims and earns another shhh from her father.

“Yeah, and you’ve been just as teeny tiny,” you say, letting a curious Lucas hold out his hand to stroke it down Sebastian's back and bump yours in the process. He is so gentle that tears well up in your eyes. There is so much love in your whole body.

“Nooo,” Inés giggles at your postulate. She shakes her head, her whole body wriggling so Javier has to readjust her.

“Actually,” he says, bouncing her a little to distract her from seeing you cry even if it’s out of happiness, “I think you were even tinier!”

“Papá! That’s silly,” she’s on the verge of squealing from laughter, but Javier is too busy looking at you. He smiles so gently at the picturesque view of his family before him. All of you together in such a beautiful moment. It just makes sense.

Lucas is too busy marveling at the soft hairs on the top of Sebastian’s head to notice your happy tears. It’s been a while since he last saw a baby, and you aren’t even sure if he remembers when his sister was born.

“You’re so good, Lucas,” you make sure to praise, quickly wiping away tears before he looks up at your face, “You’ll be babysitting in no time.”

“I can do that?” His face lights up.

“Can I babysit too?” Inés joins.

“No, I’m the oldest,” he argues.

You lean your head back against the pillow with a tired smile in Javier’s direction as he makes a compromise between the two. He winks at you when he notices, and you close your eyes and just listen.

This is it.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javi pena #javier pena one shot #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javi peña #husband!javi #my writing #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction

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reviewradar360 · 8 months

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dreamgrlarchive · 7 months

Text

current wardrobe shopping list 💻💕💵:

around this time of year i always like making clothing wishlists for the fall and winter, and my wardrobe naturally shifts for the spring and summer. i always seem to slightly tweak my personal look around this time of year to make sure my wardrobe is true to me! prissy girl 4 life! 💓🍰

tops:

lace bandeaus for layering, feather trimmed button down tops, knitted fuzzy fitted tops, fur trimmed half jackets and crop tops, rhinestone lettered shirts, victoria’s secret off shoulder sweaters, lace camis, off shoulder knitted tops in my color palette, satin button downs, sheer tops, lululemon strawberry milkshake define jacket, fur collar leather jacket, oversized sweaters in pink and black, basic neutral long sleeved cotton tops

bottoms:

microscopic boy shorts with cute details, leather mini skirt, tartan plaid mini skirt, fold over yoga pants, lace trimmed skirt, miss me embellished skinny jeans, denim pleated skirt, houndstooth mini skirt, leather flare pants, fur/feather skirt

dresses + etc.:

ribbed knit bodysuit, pink and black rompers for layering, cotton bodysuits in my color palette, rhinestone skims dresses, hidden cult distressed pink halter dress, skims slip dresses, knit bodysuits, i am gia tracksuits in black and pink, pink jacket and legging set, solid black leggings, gray leggings, pink body by tracy set, black and pink fine girl set, new pink workout set

accessories:

knitted knee high socks, sheer socks, fuzzy beret, baby phat belt, fur headbands, fuzzy leg warmers, lace tights, diamond hair clips

jewelry:

anklets, new pandora charms, body chains, bling nostril hoops, bow ring and necklace, tiara charm bracelet and necklace, diamond encrusted hoops, tiffany toggle choker, dainty tennis bracelets, new cute belly rings

purses:

medium ballerina telfar, hello kitty wallet, heaven sent leopard print wallet, tory burch ella tote, juicy couture wristlet, louis vuitton speedy 30, rhinestone encrusted purse, feather satchel, hello kitty purse, pink puffer tote, victoria’s secret glitter tote, burberry satchel, ruffled pink purse, juicy couture 2022 bowler bag

shoes:

fuzzy boots in pink and gray, black kitten heels, pink closed toe pumps, jelly platform sandals, white fur bearpaw boots, y.r.u. qrystal pink platforms, juicy couture fur slides, total temptress heels, sequin uggs, pink fur platform sandals, sherpa lined pink crocs, sparkly heels, strappy heels, mary janes

#shopping! 💓#i might diy A LOT of this 🤭#my signature look #the prissy girl agenda #my posts

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klausysworld · 1 year

Note

hello love I wanted to ask you for an image with yandere klaus mikaelson, where he enters y/n's room at night and leaves her gifts and watches her sleep, while gently caressing her face, and enters her mind and is surprised that she Is having a dream about him

Dream of kisses

Klaus had been going to see her nightly for weeks, months.

Always needing to see her, check she’s okay and to leave her a little token of his love.

Flowers were a constant, always decorating her room and he always noticed how she kept them growing-like his love for her.

She was a part of the Mystic Falls gang and they’ve had many interactions, it was so easy to fall for her. She was never so rude to him like the others, didn’t look at him as though he were scum of the earth or leave as soon as he entered the room.

He found himself inching towards her as often as possible, seeing how close he could get to her before she seemed uncomfortable.

But then he noticed she was kind to everyone. Was he not special to her?

A stupid idea obviously, she would be as in love with him as he is her.

That’s why she frames the anonymous poetry he leaves for her each week. Words elegantly written about her beauty both inside and out.

It quickly escalated to leaving her earrings and bracelets, necklaces and rings. One ring so closely replicated an engagement ring, and so happened to only fit on her ring finger.

She always deserved the best and he made sure she had it.

In need of some new summer clothing? Fabulous because Klaus just so happened to have accidentally bought a whole wardrobe in her size.

Is it chilly? Not an issue, have a new coat.

And his heart only grew more when he saw her wearing it, when she walked around in the little shorts and frilly top he chose for her, the sandals and necklace to go with it.

He sometimes topped up her hair products and always had her food fully stocked. She shouldn’t have to lift a finger. He went as far to clean and tidy her house in the night, he didn’t want her to have to stress now did he? No no a princess shouldn’t have to clean her own kitchen, not when she has him.

And yet when he made advances on her, she never seemed to pick up on them, was she entirely oblivious to all his effort to make her life easier? Did she not want to marry him, a lifetime of him taking care of her and loving her?

His hope was beginning to chip away.

But yet again he sat next to her on her bed, hand on her face as he caressed her soft skin gently. His eyes studied her closely, loving how calm she made him as she breathed against his hand. His fingers brushed over her lips, her tongue darting out to wet them and catching his finger pads. His eyes darkened over as she hummed softly to herself.

His head tilted as her mouth twitched into a small smile, her hand holding the duvet close to her.

His head moved to place the back of it to her forehead

“Lets have a look hm?” He murmured before diving into her dreams.

He waited for the haze to wear off.

His eyes squinting to see what was happening, he could see a ballroom, there were many people there all in extraordinary outfits and dancing perfectly.

Then he spotted her, now normally he would go and pretend to be apart of the dream and ask to cut in but then he saw he was already apart of this dream.

He was already holding her hand, her other in the crook of his neck as he lead her through the music. Her cheeks resembled a red a rose as he whispered whatever he was saying to her and her smile had grown as she leaned closer, her chest against him as she listened intently to his every word. He watched as his lips skimmed over the shell of her ear and she shuddered, pushing against him.

He pulled out of her head, his mind buzzing as her lips had parted in her sleep a small moan leaving her lips. He hoped his dream self had kissed her-or better yet she kissed him.

He smoothed down her hair as he leant forward to press his lips to the corner of her mouth, delighted with her response as she moved her face to capture his mouth with hers. He grunted int surprise but kissed her all the same, unable to help himself as she panted into his mouth. Her lips were so soft, her tongue so gentle as it timidly danced with his.

After a long few minutes he pulled away, seeing her chest rise and fall unevenly and her back arched. He kissed her lips once more and then the top of her head before taking a few steps back, his face flushed and mouth hung open as he struggled to think of anything other than her.

He quickly put the new charms for her bracket on the band before hurrying on home, his pants tented and mind fuzzy.

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diggoverse · 11 months

Photo

Sasha Set (poll winner)

hello darlings, I bring you the winner of the poll!

enjoy the Sasha set, with a dress and basic sandals ♥

[ dress]

• 100% new meshes.

• textures made by me.

• hq compatible.

• medium poly

• 8 swatches

[ sandal]

• 100% new meshes.

• textures made by me.

• hq compatible.

• medium poly

• 9 swatches

do not reupload

recolor is allowed by GIVING ME THE MESH CREDITS.

conversion to version 2 & 3 is allowed by giving me credits.

You didn't create it so don't claim it as yours.

you can ask any questions on my social networks.

IG: @diggoverse ///// TUMBLR: diggoverse.

know that your participation and collaboration in my patreon is important to me ♥

DOWNLOAD

#S4CC #ts4cc #sims4cc #thesims4cc #s4cc hair #s4customcontent #s4 custom content #ts4 custom content #the sims 4 clothing cc #urban sims #sims of color #thesims4 #the sims custom content

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munsonsreputation · 10 months

Text

I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER ONE - WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS

series masterlist | chapter two ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, lots of mentions of self deprecation, reader talking about an emotionally exhausting past bf, steve talking shit abt his parents, cursing, steve & reader crushing on each other so mutual pining, lots of sweetness and fluff <3

summary: you make friends with a girl named Robin who politely and hilariously mistakes some red paint on your jeans as blood. Who knew it would lead to you and her becoming friends and her inviting you to meet her other ones? The even bigger mystery is how her best friend, Steve, is starting to become someone you’re falling for.

Steve Harrington’s living room was packed. Not that it was particularly out of the ordinary since his place was the go-to spot for hangouts, but today it had been packed for a different reason and a new arrival. Though it seemed Robin was the only uneasy person even when she was the one who had begged for this to happen.

Trying to cope, she began fluffing up the couch pillows and straightening the books on the coffee table while she rambled.

“She’s cool. I mean, she paints, for one, like totally realistic paintings, but she also really loves baking!”

Mike rolled his eyes, puffing dramatically and deciding to take a flop down on the couch where she just tidied up, “She sounds like my grandma.”

“Piss off!” Robin hissed, smacking his knee as the rest of their friends watched on at the repartee.

Steve was the skeptical one about the whole situation, considering what could happen if Robin’s new friend wasn’t entirely who she was supposed to be. It’s not that he didn’t trust Robin’s whole intuition about people, but you seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy because the person Robin described to all of them for the past few weeks was pure perfection.

Even everyone else was beginning to question if meeting at Steve’s house for the first time was a good idea, realizing that you could be a creep or a murderer, but they were just being a tad bit dramatic. Before he could think too much into it than he already was, the doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention and eyes that darted towards the front door.

“I’ll get it!”

Robin clapped her hands excitedly, darting to the door and unlocking it with vigor before opening it wide enough so she and everyone else could get a good look at you.

You stood in the doorway with a big smile and your hands full. One balancing a bright yellow ceramic dish on your palm, and your other arm busy holding a covered frame between your body.

You wore a white skirt, decorated with itty bitty eyelets that resembled a daisy cutout and a white top with the same pattern to match. A brown shoulder bag draped across your chest and a pair of strappy sandals on your feet.

Only when you inched forward, meeting cheek to cheek with Robin, in an endearing hello, did they finally get a good glance at what you looked like.

Bright eyes, wispy lashes, and lids covered in the tiniest amount of sheer glitter. A glow from within on your cheeks and high points, like the sun and pretty pink petals were rushing to the surface of your skin. Dewy lips coated in gloss and flickers of sparkles that shined through your smile that you wore throughout the interaction.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth and the first time they had heard your voice.

Robin shook her head, opening the door wider and prompting you in, “don’t be!”

You looked around in curiosity, taking in the architecture and feel of the home before being greeted with a few smiles and waves from the strangers around the living room.

You returned it, though it never really dared to leave your face to begin with. Softly speaking out a few, “hi’s” and “hello’s” to them before turning towards Robin and holding out a big frame towards her.

“Happy Birthday!” You declared gleefully as she stared at you confused.

The rest of her friends murmuring something about possibly forgetting her birthday, just as puzzled as her.

She stuttered, trying to recall if she might have told you the wrong date or something, “I-It’s not my birthday?”

Your cheek met your shoulder shrewdly, once again pushing the gift towards her, “I know! But I wanted an excuse to give you this.”

You juggled the canvas into your hands, trying your best not to drop the pie pan. Robin reached her hands out, taking the pie from you as you flashed her a thankful smile, pulling the cover off the canvas to present her with a small gift of gratitude.

“Tah-Dah!” You singsonged, turning the canvas towards her and watching the shock and amazement that covered her face before a wide smile appeared followed by the “oh’s” and “ah’s” of her friends that you completely forgot about.

Robin spun her arms to the left of her, hastily handing the pie to Steve who took it and placed it on the coffee table. The front entrance of his home, now the new crowded spot as everyone marveled at the artwork. He quickly joined in, not wanting to miss an ounce of it, finding an open spot between you and Robin.

He took it all in, eyes fixed on the print that was gushing with blossoms of her favorite colors: sage green, mauve, and pale yellow. But it wasn’t an ordinary painting—the petals were formed with dollops of the paint, and it probably took days to dry. It was rare, something that he and the others had never seen before.

His fingers brushed the paint petals, careful not to mess up your handwork,“This is incredible….”

Flickering his gaze to you, he flashed you a toothy smile, letting his hand pull back from the canvas and stick out towards you.

“I’m Steve, by the way.” He extended his arm, making a sweeping gesture to catch your attention.

Tearing your eyes away from Robin’s heartwarming reaction, your sights drifted to the hand, then to the owner of it, instantly captivated by his friendliness and allure. Your stare lingered a bit too long, lost in trying to memorize him, so you shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the trance you fell into.

“Oh, sorry! It’s nice to meet you!” Quickly you handed the entire piece to Robin, adverting your full attention to the new acquaintance whose house you just barged into.

You knew just from the looks of it that he was Steve Harrington, the guy that Robin had described to you as being her insanely attractive yet idiotic best friend.

His hair, like Robin had described, was unquestionably perfect, falling into place as if he didn’t even try. Robin let you in on a secret that he was infamously called “King Steve” throughout high school for being so good with the ladies—now you were sure you knew why.

He chuckled when you grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it with vigor like how a father would but without the cynical look on your face. Instead, you looked genuinely thrilled, twinkling eyes and a broad smile gracing your lips.

“Great to finally meet you. Robin’s been yapping all week about her new friend.”

You laughed quietly, finally letting go of his hand and reaching over to sling your arm across Robin’s shoulder. She leaned into you, nuzzling her head against yours with a content look on her radiant face.

“Well, she’s been raving about all of her friends, so I just knew I had to meet you all.”

Robin smirked, finally giving you a hug and murmuring a curt thank you for the generous gift and turning to all of her friends while keeping you close to her side.

“Everyone, this is my new friend. I met her last week and now we’re attached to the hip!” Robin announced, her voice carrying a mix of affection and playful teasing.

Steve feigned a gasp, holding a hand over his heart, “Replacing me already?”

“Oh shut up, dingus!” Robin reached forward, whacking him with her palm as he yelped and pretended to be offended.

A curly-headed boy sporting a baseball cap stepped forward, “Ignore those two, they’re literal children…I’m Dustin!”

You reached your hand out, shaking his before casually everyone began introducing themselves to you.

Part of you was trying to remember each name connected to a face, but it was also a tad bit overwhelming with so many of them. Making friends was never an easy task for you, but you liked your own solitude, so you didn’t mind. But that also didn’t mean you didn’t long to have friends who you could talk to or hang out with from time to time and share your life with.

So when Robin tapped you on the shoulder at the grocery store to inform you your period had arrived you were visibly horrified but relieved that she offered you her jacket as you two found the restroom. And in the bathroom you let out a ridiculous laugh, covering your mouth as she stared at you in the mirror’s reflection confused.

“Red paint! This is paint! I must have sat on it or something!”

You and Robin hit it off, talking for what seemed like hours inside that grocery store bathroom. The two of you had a habit of over sharing, but it helped you bond and grow closer. After exchanging numbers and spending afternoons on the phone talking and getting to know each other better , she invited you over to a hangout with her friends.

“You guys must have scared her or something.” Robin shook you a bit in her hold to grab you away from a little daydream.

You blinked, looking over at her, then back to her friends watching until you came through, “sorry! sorry! I zone out sometimes…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She does it all the time.” Steve pointed at Robin who stuck her tongue out at him.

Nancy, the brunette who you remembered as one of the kids’ older sister, stepped forward hooking her arm inside yours, “Okaaaay, here, why don’t you come sit?”

She wore a warm smile and guided you further into the living room. Her touch was gentle, and the gesture alone made you feel like she was happy to have you here, easing a bit of your anxiety. When she unhooked her arm from yours, you mouthed a “thank you,” and she shook it off, just smiling and patting the empty seat beside her.

You placed your purse down on your lap, while Robin sat on the other side of you. The rest of the friends finding their own area on the opposite couch or on the floor, making you feel less suffocated and more like an inviting circle.

“Robin tells us that you’re mega cool!” Dustin exclaims followed by a thwack on the head by the red head Max and her boyfriend Lucas who sports the bucket hat.

Timidly, you swung your head low, feeling a mix of bashfulness and gratitude for her words when you weren’t around. You glanced towards Robin, who beamed with pride because she genuinely thought you were the coolest person she had ever met—probably even on the planet.

“I don’t think I’m cool…like at all.” You admitted, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

Robin rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friends then looking back at you, “She’s too humble, I mean really, she is so super duper cool and I’m shocked she’d even consider being my friend.”

Jokingly, you nudged her, making her laugh, “Don’t sell yourself short, Robin—“

Before you could continue uplifting the spirts of self esteem, the boy with the unruly hair…Mick? Mike!

Mike cuts in, eyes zeroing in on your torso where you begin to follow.

“What’s that on your shirt?” He squinted, pointing at the recent stains on your top.

Peeping your eyes down and looking meticulously, the stain was barely noticeable unless someone was really looking—anyway, the white color was a bit off from the shade of your actual top, and there had been some sort of residue left.

Nancy realized it at first, seeing that the stain couldn’t be seen to the naked eye, unless her brother was being a disgusting little shithead. She swiftly grabbed the decorative pillow behind her, chucking it towards him.

“You’re such a pig, Mike!”

Everyone switched their attention from you, and instead pestered and teased Mike for being so “observant” with you here in a spaghetti strap top.

But you attempted to stifle your laughter, not wanting him to feel so embarrassed despite his sudden interjection. You were hoping he wasn’t being a stereotypical depraved teen who couldn’t focus when your shoulders were out.

Instead, you attempted to swipe at it with your fingertips, but alas it didn’t budge and stubbornly clung to the fabric, “ It’s just paint and apparently…” You tugged the portion closer to your nose, scrunching it up, “Sugar. Powdered sugar.”

The young boy almost looked impressed at your ability to articulate the specific ingredient despite the verbal onslaught he had just faced. “Sick.”

Robin clicked her tongue, jutting her chin out toward Steve who sat across from you in a recliner.

“Steve, give her something to change into,” she told him, prompting him to sit up, looking at you and instantly nodding.

“Yeah, of course, follow me,” He motioned you to follow his lead as he stood up, yet you remained sitting, tipping your head slightly up at him.

You raised one of your brows, “Are you sure? I’m totally ok with it. It’s my fault, anyway.”

“I’m sure…c’mon, it’s the least I could do.” Steve nodded again, waving his arm towards himself, and you got up.

Trailing behind Steve up the stairs, you marveled at the simplicity of the home despite its expanse. The wallpaper was a muted gray with cream accents and walls encasing the space leading up were decorated with a few framed photographs that you assumed were Steve and his family.

From what Robin had told you, his parents weren’t home too often, if at all, which explained why the photos were outdated and mostly from his childhood, having no evidence of recent portraits.

The hallway towards the bedrooms had a running rug across the wooden floors. The fuzzy textile felt worn yet homey against your feet. Steve’s bedroom was located at the end of the hall, and when he opened up the door, you seemed to feel more of his personality shining in that space.

“Ignore the mess.” He apologized, twisting open the door to let you in first.

In contrast to the living room and main quarters of the house, his room felt more like himself.

The wallpaper in his room, plaid with white, green, and black accents and, of course, matching curtains. His bed was somewhat neatly made with the pillows fluffed and gray sheets on the mattress. A few drawers to hold what you assumed were part of his closet and other belongings.

But his desk, which looked to be the most messy yet contained spot of his room, littered with tapes, books, and other papers. The only thing hanging on his wall was a photo of a vintage car that you couldn’t name for the life of you.

You turned your head to look at him, where he stood, watching you taking in the space with a grin,“You’re actually really neat…neater than I am.”

Steve let out a grunt, chuckling to himself as he turned to his accordion wardrobe doors and opened them in search of finding you something without a stain. It didn’t help that he had forgotten to do a fresh load of laundry, but that the rest of his clean shirts were polos and hoodies.

“So are you from Hawkins?” He wondered, sifting through the hangers.

“No, I’m from Roane, actually! I only really come to Hawkins for the art store but last weekend I decided to run my errands here since I was already in town and that’s how I met Robin.”

You explained, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your shirt between the stain still trying to get it out.

Steve plucked a hoodie from the rack, holding it up in front of you, trying to decipher its comfort. The fabric was way too thick, and he was certain that in this Hawkins weather you’d be drowning in not only a puddle of fleece but sweat too.

Shaking his head, he gave you an apologetic glance that you didn’t seem to catch.

“You live alone?” He planted the item back on the hanger and continued to look.

“Yeah, but I actually used to live with my boyfriend…or ex-boyfriend now,” You clarified, giving up on the stubborn stain and sighing, “we were together for a little while but he just decided things weren’t working out and so he left.”

He looked back briefly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, “How many years were you guys together…if you don’t mind me asking.”

You shook your head, reassuring him that it was alright, “Six years.”

The widening of his eyes made you giggle, but it wasn’t unexpected considering someone your age having a relationship that long wasn’t typically normal.

“Excuse me? Six years! I don’t even think I’ve had a single friend stay in my life for six years.”

“Seems like a lifetime, right?” You joked with a comical lift to your voice and he nodded like it was the obvious answer, which it was.

He knew that you both weren’t too far apart in age, both in your early twenties, but it was just shocking to hear that you were in a six year relationship at your age. The longest relationship he had was a year with Nancy Wheeler and even then that seemed like forever, but you must have really fallen deeply in love with your ex if you lasted that long.

“We kinda just grew out of each other. It’s kinda inevitable after dating all four years of high school then two years after that. We just realized that we wanted different things in life and by different, he wanted me to “finally start taking life seriously,” or whatever the fuck that meant.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, making air quotes with your fingers.

So that explains it, he thought to himself.

“He wanted to move out of Indiana?” Steve questioned, turning his attention back to his closet.

You made a noise, unsure if that fully answered his question. But you moved up beside him, silently asking if it was okay to help him sift through the hangers. Nodding, he shifted over, giving you space to look through the untouched hangers.

You went back to his question, giving him an actual answer, that you hoped would sum up the story that was way too long to tell in whole.

“Not necessarily…but he just didn’t like the fact that art was not only my hobby, but my passion. He always wanted me to get a real job, you know, those boring ones where you sit at a desk all day and think about what you did so wrong in your past life to be doing paperwork for the rest of it.”

His eyes followed as your face contorted with revulsion as if that was one of the most heinous jobs in the world, but for someone like you who thrived off creative free rein, it truly was. Steve threw his head, laughing at your expression, finding it truly amusing because for someone like him, he also realized that even if he was a lost young adult, he’d much rather keep working at a VHS store than walk into work everyday wearing an uncomfortable suit and dozing off in meetings.

His amusement turned your scorned face upside down, abruptly reeling in the fact that he actually found what you said to be funny. And you hoped that he wasn’t being overdramatic just to make you feel better, but you were positive that it wasn’t because it was the type of laughter that had the skin by his eyes creased because of how hard he was laughing—even his arm slinging over his torso, like the laughter was so infectious that it hurt.

The sound of his hilarity, leaping off the walls of his room like music to your ears, wishing you possessed the ability to always make people laugh this freely, just to witness moments like this. Eventually, though, he settled down, snapping his fingers at you and pointing with a still carefree smile on his lips.

“That was a good one! Now I’ve gotta use that when my dad keeps bugging me about getting a real job.” He praised, finally turning back the original spot in his closet and plucking it off the rod.

It was a bright yellow long sleeve, the fabric not too thick or thin, but just about right. You reached for the sleeve of it, feeling the material between your fingers, and Steve’s eyes waited for your approval.

“Feels nice.” You said with a nod, dropping it from your fingertips and letting him slide the garment off the plastic hanger before placing it in your hands.

He glanced back at the bedroom door, then back to you, “I’ll wait outside the door so you can change.” He offered, letting himself out and closing it behind him.

Inside the room, Steve could hear the soft rustling as you moved, wondering if what he gave you was good enough or if you were being too nice and not wanting to offend him by saying the yellow color was awful. Meanwhile, you placed your top on the lid of his hamper, making a mental note to come back here and retrieve it before you headed back home.

His voice came through on the other side of the door, breaking the brief silence.

“Sooo…your ex-boyfriend. I’m sure he was a computer science major, right? Totally douchey with a superiority complex?”

You snorted, pulling the garment over your body and slipping your arms through the sleeves. “You think computer science is douchey?”

He leaned up against the door frame, humming a reply and then finding the words.

“Yeah, totally, I mean nothing screams douchey than a guy who thinks he’s better than someone because he works with computers and not a paintbrush.”

Your movements slowed as you pulled your hair free from the collar and fitted the excess material underneath itself so it wasn’t drowning over you.

There was suddenly that fond pleasant feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and in the cage of your chest. When Robin had mentioned that Steve was charming, she wasn’t kidding. There was no reason he should have this much of an effect on you so soon. Yet, here he was, effortlessly tearing down your ex-boyfriend and making you feel better about your own endeavors.

After a few seconds of taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you reached for the doorknob, turning it open to see his body supported by the one arm propped against the wooden frame. You bit your lip, watching his gaze fall down your face to his shirt on your body.

“Then I’d say you’re right…you guessed it,” Your arms flared out before coming down to your sides, standing there not knowing what else to say considering he had hit the nail head-on.

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes since he met you, this was the only time you seemed so sheepish. Out in the living room you looked so confident, even when it was obvious that the attention towards you was a little overwhelming, you still could change the subject or revert it somewhere else. Here with your eyes glued to your feet, not meeting him, he felt like you were trapped — that he might have said something that hit a little too close to home and made you uncomfortable.

His eyes softened, clearly full of regret for being so upfront about a situation he only knew surface level stuff about. Just because you had talked to him a little about the horrible stuff your ex said, didn’t mean he understood the whole story. That there clearly was something deeper, possibly trauma that he didn’t know about and here you were forced to endure the awkward silence and flooding memories of what had happened all because he couldn’t shut up.

Your view of your feet against the wooden floor was suddenly interrupted by Steve’s hands reaching forward, accompanied by his voice.

“I—I’m sorry, for bringing it up…I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything! I-It’s just, he sounds like a total dick and you should know that what he told you isn’t true—“

He spoke rapidly, stumbling over his words and making short pauses, making sense because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy.

You furrowed your brows, snapping your eyes up to his.

“No, no! You’re fine, it’s just that, no one has really said that stuff about him…about him being an asshole. And…I don’t know, it kinda feels nice to hear.”

Underneath your reassuring expression, your lips twitched up and Steve swore you were about to burst into a full on prideful smirk because of the jabs he took at your ex. So his words indeed took you aback, but in a good way.

He validated your feelings about your past relationship and suddenly there was a shift in the mood, and Steve closed his eyes, taking a relieved breath, grateful that he hadn’t scared you away with that conversation.

Meanwhile, you laughed softly to yourself, feeling a rush of giggles bubble up in your chest, seeing him relax under your certainty.

He opened his eyes, looking at you, trying to look stone-faced, “But, seriously, he’s sounds like a huge asshole,” He couldn’t help the cackle that escaped through his lips, breaking his solemn face, followed by you pushing a hand out and pressing his shoulder gingerly.

“The hugest! I’m being so serious!” You added, only making the two of you laugh harder, not caring to contain it in the small space between the bedroom and the hallway.

A simple moment in time was all you needed to know that Steve was genuinely a good guy, not just a pretty face with an idiotic mind attached to him. As the laughter died down, Steve stepped back, holding his hand out and gesturing you into the hallway with him and back down the stairs where you two were met with the noise of your friends chatting in the living room.

Robin slapped a hand over her forehead once the two of you came into view, earning a raised eyebrow from you and Steve, both of whom stopped a few feet into the area. She exaggeratedly dropped her hand to her side, feigning exasperation.

“What’s the matter?” You crossed your arms across your chest, looking genuinely troubled and waiting for an explanation.

All eyes turned to you and Steve now, grunts and smothered laughs coming from everyone, while you guys both stood there, oblivious to their reactions. Dustin, unable to contain himself, started convulsing with laughter and clutching his stomach, even going as far as to throw himself into Mike’s lap before getting shoved off.

Then he stood up in front of both of you, pointing an accusing finger at Steve’s shirt he lent you.

“What did you do to make him hate you so much that he gave you that horrid shirt?”

His face twisted in disgust, and he mockingly gagged, sticking out his tongue and dramatically turning away. Steve should’ve seen this one coming. He swatted Dustin’s hand away from you, shaking his head with a playful scowl. Then placed his hands on his hips, adopting a father-like pose, something else they also teased him for.

He had worn the long sleeve a couple of times before, and each time he did, everyone poked fun at him. Commenting on the revolting color, comparing it to poop or vomit instead of the ground seed condiment he claimed it paralleled, according to the saleswomen at Macy’s who convinced him enough to buy it. And now that’s why he stopped wearing it, growing tired of the kids, but especially Robin and Eddie, calling him ‘Baby Poop Harrington’ in the middle of Star Court and Family Video.

“You guys just don’t get fashion,” Steve argued, raising his eyebrows and forehead toward the others in an unconvincing manner. He fanned his arm, gesturing at you.

“It’s mustard, and it clearly looks good on her.”

The compliment was sudden, causing your eyes to enlarge somewhat and cheeks to blush. You hoped that no one caught it, being too busy to notice you looking downward at the shirt pretending to examine it in order to play it off when in fact you were rubbing your lips together to stop the smile from rising with your cheeks.

The banter continued to go on, which made you relieved, as you were able to get some composure and flicker your sights back up to everyone else arguing with Steve. Eddie huffed out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head where he lounged on the opposite couch. He pointedly stared at you and the outfit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Nobody said it doesn’t look good on her. We just said the color isn’t very pretty.”

Nancy tilted her head, observing you and the shirt closely. Her eyes widened in realization, and she nodded in agreement.

“Actually, it does look really good on you. Maybe the styling was the issue.” She glanced at Steve with a grimace before waving it off and marveling at the color.

Steve raised his voice, as if trying to convince them through sheer volume. “I wore it with blue sweatpants!”

“Exactly!” the group chorused, their voices overlapping in mock protest.

You couldn’t help but snort out a short laugh, finding the entire situation amusing. You exchanged glances with Steve, realizing that this was obviously a very passionate but lighthearted topic within the friend group, kinda like their own inside joke.

Steve ignored the rest of the laughter and teasing, falling back into his comfortable recliner as you sat yourself back in between Nancy and Robin.

Lucas, the one seated next to the redhead who was his girlfriend, tapped his fist on the coffee table. “Can we cut into the pie? It smells delicious, and it’s been calling my name for the past thirty minutes.”

You nodded excitedly, rubbing your hands together, “Sure, it’s cherry by the way, so hopefully you all like that!” Your hands fell into your lap, looking over at Steve.

“I just need a knife to cut into it and some plates and forks.”

Steve rose up, giving you a nod, “I’ll go get it,” he said before walking through the archway into what you assumed was the kitchen.

The kids had gathered around the coffee table, smelling the air to get a whiff of the baked good you had spent the whole morning baking, and even Eddie got up from his relaxed state to push the kids aside and get a smell.

You felt a little bad seeing as though Steve had already gone out of his way to open up his home to you and then lend you clothing after a mishap that was entirely your fault, yet you were still sitting here, not helping.

You looked over at Robin, patting her knee smoothly, “I’ll go help Steve.”

Before you could stand up, she grasped onto your wrist, waving the other in the air, signing off that he could handle it alone, “He’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

But of course you insisted with a reassuring laugh, feeling her touch drop your hand, as you got up. “No, it’s fine, I really should!”

Before she could protest or take your spot, you were already striding away, following into the archway that Steve had just gone through. His back was facing you, arms reaching into the cupboard to grab a stack of plates that clinked together.

“Let me help,” you announced your presence with eagerness, walking up beside him.

He looked over at you, relaxing his arms back down,“Hey, no, you're not supposed to be helping!”

Your fingers tugged the bottom of his borrowed long sleeve, the fabric dancing between your fingers as you shot him a mischievous smirk, “Oh, c’mon, it’s the least I could do.”

He smiled at your mocking tone having no choice but to give in, “Fine, but just this once,” pretending to let out an exasperated sigh like you were a nuance, when in fact you weren’t.

He nodded his chin to the set of drawers where the utensils were prompting you to grab the needed amount of forks while he gathered the remainder of the plates.

“Does it ever get lonely living alone?” He asked, voice carrying a hint of interest, while shutting the cupboard and walking to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a knife.

“Hmmm,” You thought for a second, shrugging as you bumped your hip into the drawer, shutting it gently.

“Sometimes, but I’ve grown pretty used to it. There’s some positives like not feeling so bad when you forget to start the dishwasher.”

He chuckled, grunting an agreement for the simple joys that living along could bring, but he also wondered about the negatives, “And the cons?”

Your heart skipped a beat already knowing the answer right off the top of your head because it was something that ate away at your heart every day. Leaving and coming home to the same space, roaming the halls and rooms—all of yours but only yours, the kind that was lonely.

“Not having someone you can go home to, or at least looking forward to coming to.” You confessed with a frown.

Steve sympathized, knowing that feeling all too well considering the home life he had been living since he was a teenager. Left alone with no parents around to really parent him in the first place, there was a fine line between being a teen and also being the adult to make the house a home.

He’d try to, even when his parents were away on trips, doing a load of dishes and laundry. Cleaning out the overgrown weeds in the yard. Vacuuming and mopping the floors. All of this in hopes that when his parents did come home and see how it had been maintained, that maybe they’d want to stay home and spend time with their son.

But alas, that meant nothing to them. If anything, it proved his parents’ thoughts that Steve was more than capable of being home all by himself. Making the home even emptier that it already was knowing that his parents would purposefully be gone longer now.

“Y’know, it’s nice having this house all to myself, but it gets lonely too. My uh—my parents aren’t really home much, my mom follows my dad on all his work trips…kinda making sure he doesn’t cheat on her or something.”

He let out a dry laugh while you cringed, expecting that it is in fact a joke, but he continues letting you know it isn’t.

“Anyway, ummm, it’s nice and all being able to throw parties and invite people whenever, but sometimes I just wished there was more here.”

Looking around the room, he gestured all around and exhaled, “Like family dinners where we actually talk or even just coming home from work and seeing my parents watching tv on the couch. I swear, I haven’t seen them sit in the living room or turn on the tv since I was like twelve.”

Placing the forks on the stack of plates, you turned apologetically to him, resting a comforting hand on his arm, seeing the way his face fell and his voice wavered on the edge between resentment and misery.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You withdrew, apologizing, though none of this was your fault.

Steve cleared his throat with a hoarse cough, swinging his head. Placing the knife down on the plates, as he ran his hand down his face, “No, don’t apologize, it’s stupid. I should be grateful they left me with a house to myself, right?”

He let out a laugh, as if that was going to make you feel any better for the way that he was feeling. Robin only mentioned little about the absence of Steve’s parents, and you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but it made you feel for him. For how lonesome it must be for him to be estranged from the people who gave him life, yet left him under their roof and pretended like he didn’t exist.

You, however, made the choice to live alone. After you graduated high school, you hightailed it out of your parents’ house and got a lease to your now apartment all by yourself. It wasn’t until a few months later that your then boyfriend moved in, but still after the breakup you got to keep the place all to yourself, which was valuable in a lot of ways.

But it was also sad.

You didn’t have many friends that you kept in touch with from high school. If anything, they weren’t really the nicest nor supportive types of friends that you wanted to keep anyways. They agreed with your ex that you had to start taking life seriously and cease pursuing art, but you never listened to them. So maybe it was better off to live alone in your own seclusion rather than just keeping them around for company.

In spite of those not so kind friends of that past, things felt a lot different with the group that you met today. Like you could let your walls down and finally open up the door.

Your finger twiddled against one another, letting out a proposition, “M-Maybe you can come to my place and hangout? All of you…I mean!”

You were crossing your fingers that he didn’t catch the slip up that made it sound like you only wanted him to come over.

His hands stop at his jaw, fanning over the skin there, before turning slightly towards you with a surprised look on his face.

“Really?”

You nodded eagerly, “I haven’t had guests around for a while and I would really love for you—you guys to come and visit.”

There was that slip again, but Steve was too engrossed to catch it.

“I would love—“

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long!?”

The holler coming from the living room burst that bubble between you and Steve, ultimately making you giggle when he groaned heavily, muttering an, “I’m so sorry about them,” to you while you shook your head and followed behind him while he grabbed the kitchenware.

“You guys were taking forever!” Mike wailed, making Steve roll his eyes as you gave a gentle laugh at his impatience.

“We were barely gone two minutes.” Steve replied, placing the plates down on the table while you carefully grabbed the knife.

“It’s my fault. I was talking to Steve about having you guys over sometime.” You said, looking up at the boy before making the first cut into the pie.

Robin gasped behind you, clapping her hands ecstatically, “Oh my gosh, please! Steve and I are off on Thursday!”

She turned towards Steve, looking at him dubiously. “We’re off on Thursday, right?”

“Yeah,” He snickered, nodding his head as he slid you a plate to lay the first slice on.

Steve picked up the plate, giving it to El just to spite the impatient Mike who sat beside her and groaned until you finished cutting the next slice which was given to Lucas. So you continued to cut as Steve served everyone.

“Jonathan and I have a half day on Thursday, so we should be able to swing by during the afternoon.” Nancy spoke before digging into her slice.

The last two slices remained as everyone dug into their portion while you plated it up. Passing Steve a plate, “You first.” You said quietly with a smile.

He grinned, thanking you with a nod before taking a seat on the recliner. You got yourself the last plate, scooting back towards your original seat.

“Where do you guys work?” You looked towards Nance and Jonathan.

He swallowed his piece before speaking. “Hawkins Post. I work on photography and she writes.” his fork pointed to her before she nodded and continued.

“Technically, we’re still interning, but we’re hoping to secure a permanent job once our internship is up.” She told you as you nodded your head.

“That’s cool! Roane has a weekly paper, but it’s usually just filled with the same political crap about our Mayor trying to drive out local businesses and replace them with big chain stores.” You said wistfully, shaking your head.

She chewed faster, murmuring out a reply before she was able to respond with actual words.

“Our Mayor, Mayor Kline, is actually doing the same thing! Jonathan and I have been begging to do a story about it to help save the mom-and-pop businesses, but our boss Tom,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head with annoyance, “he agrees with the Mayor and totally shuts us down every time.”

You pouted, placing down your untouched plate, and placing a warm hand on her shoulders, “God, I bet you they’re such assholes…I wish I could help, but seriously, if at any point you guys do figure out a way to make it happen, I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”

Your voice was somehow sweeter than the pie that Steve was scarfing down as he watched and listened on. Everyone was too busy in their own conversations to care about the one you and Nancy were having, but not him, though he was more so focused on you. He just hoped he didn’t look like a sloppy toddler that was too distracted to realize food was all over his mouth.

Steve was just so enamored by your grace and everything that was new to him.

He noticed the way your eyes would trickle over with all of these different sentiments while Nance confided in you about the struggles at Hawkins Post. But he assumed this was just how you usually were, a part of you, so invest in people and wanting them to know that they could talk to you and you would do your bestest to give your deepest empathy.

Only one thing he couldn’t understand was how anyone, let alone your ex-boyfriend, let go of someone who was as pure and generous as you. Steve Harrington was sure, even after only meeting you today, that you were the sweetest person he had ever had the honor of encountering. That if he really knew you were too good to be true like this, he would’ve begged Robin to invite you sooner.

“Can I have your slice if you’re not going to eat it?” Dustin’s voice broke in, his plate already finished with only crumbs left behind.

Tearing your gaze away from Nancy and switching to the boy who looked on at your untouched plate on the table. You grinned, leaning forward to push the plate closer to him, “Go crazy, I’m not hungry, anyway.”

So not only were you kind, you were also patient—Steve was making a mental list without even realizing it and knowing what for.

Here you were giving up your slice for the little teenage twerp that just insulted the top you were borrowing only a few minutes ago. If Steve were in your shoes, he’d tell the little shit to think about making fun of mustard again before thinking he’d give up a slice of his pie for him, but then again, you weren’t Steve and you definitely weren’t an asshole.

“Dude, let her have her slice!” Eddie chastised with a mouth full of cherries and pie pastry.

Max flicked him on the head with a grunt. “Yeah Dusty, no wonder Suzie broke up with you.”

Dustin glared, pulling your plate to him, “Oh shut up, I told you me and Suzie are perfectly fine and still together!” he hissed, not hesitating to take a bite of his pie.

You shifted yourself to face forward, eyes on the kids who were thoroughly not convinced about Dustin’s so-called girlfriend.

“Suzie?” You spoke curiously, “Does she live in Hawkins?”

They all shook their heads, and Dustin spoke with a full mouth, but still you could hear him clearly. “She lives in Utah! Her family is crazy Mormon though, so I can only call during certain hours to speak to her through my Cerebro.”

Your eyes widened, “Cerebro? Like from X-Men?”

“You know X-Men?” the kids all shouted.

You laughed, nodding your head undoubtedly. “I only have a few, but X-Men #7 is one of my favorites.”

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was mega cool.” Dustin’s eyes darted to Robin’s, which made you laugh.

“So tell me more about Cerebro.”

Honestly, it was hard for any of the kids to find other people who understood or got them the way that their older siblings and friends did. It’s mainly the reason why their friend group was so small and tight-knit in the first place and they’d be lying to say they weren’t the first to oppose the idea of bringing in a new person to the group.

But you seemed genuinely engrossed in the kids’ lives, not just instinctively nodding your head and humming so that they could feel like you cared, but you really did. Asking questions about Dustin’s summer camp where he and Suzie met and finding it quite adorable that he would go out of his way to build something to speak to a girl on the other side of the country.

Halfway through your conversation with the kids, Steve got up, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding you something to eat, seeing as though Dustin took hostage of your food. It didn’t help that he absolutely sucked at cooking and had nothing in his fridge to offer you other than a coke which definitely wouldn’t make up for your pie loss.

With his back turned to the fridge, he could feel a presence behind him, trying to be quiet, yet failing, and he knew it was you, or at least thought it was because of the earlier instance.

“I thought I told you that you were a guest and you should be enjoying yourself in the—what the fuck Robs!”

She cackled, hunched over laughing to herself once Steve finally turned around and noticed it was, in fact, not you but her.

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on me like that!” He crossed his arms over his chest at Robin who was trying to settle down.

“You’re so gullible! Like I wasn’t even trying! I was just trying to see what you were up to and you thought that I was her!” She laughed maniacally, failing to contain herself.

“Yeah, I came in here to try to find something she can eat, seeing as though Dustin lacks consideration and didn’t think to ask if she ate anything before coming here.” He sighed, turning around and opening back up the fridge, like something would magically appear before his eyes.

Robin calmed down, nudging him away from the refrigerator so that she could get a look. Her fingers instantly pulled open one of the drawers where the fresh fruit that were barely touched were.

“This will do.” She grabbed an apple and orange, passing it off to Steve.

He raised his brows, “Don’t you think she wants something else?”

She shook her head. “Nope, she loves fresh fruit! Told me how much she loves them in her salads and how she picks up fresh ones from the market to make sweets and drinks with them.”

“Fine. Just go back in there and I’ll cut these up.”

She held her hands up in defense, slightly mocking in a higher pitched voice as she walked backwards, “Oh okay, Chef Harrington, thank you so much for your service to our pretty guest.”

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard a snicker come from Robin before she fully exited and gave him the kitchen all to himself where he cut and peeled the fruit, neatly placing them on a plate for you. Steve wished you would have snuck in just to get another chance to talk to you alone because he wasn’t quite sure if he could hold a conversation with you when everyone was around.

You didn’t intimidate him per se, but he liked speaking to you one-on-one when there were no idiotic teens around to make him feel weird for asking such silly questions. But you didn’t sneak in, still holding the conversation with the teens as he walked out and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of you.

“Here you go,” Steve announced softly, not wanting to break the conversation.

You looked up at him, seeing the plated fruit slices he had arranged in a circle, “Oh, you didn’t have to! But thank you!”

“No problem.” He grinned, heading back to his seat.

“So what about you?” You turned your gaze towards El, the quiet one of the bunch who sat and listened for the most part. “What do you like to do?”

“Poetry.” She said faintly, making you smile as you popped an apple slice in your mouth.

“I used to do a lot of poetry too when I was your age.” You told her, and she looked at you curiously.

“I have a ton of journals from when I was in high school, but ultimately I think my calling has always been art.” You smiled at her, seeing the way she lit up at that.

“What did you write about?”

“Typical teenage stuff. Growing up. Strict parents. Bullies. Boys.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max cut in.

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to bring this up, “Umm, well, I uh, y-yeah—well, no yeah! I meant no! I don’t have one! But I used to, but we broke up.”

“How long were you together?” Mike asked.

“Stop being invasive, Michael!” Nancy quietly scolded, earning a glare from Mike who paid her no mind and went back to you waiting for an answer.

“Umm, you know, a really long time, but it was so long ago that—“

“Estimate?” Lucas countered.

You swallowed anxiously, not really wanting to talk about this, but feeling you had to answer before it got awkward, “Like six—“

“Jesus, you twerps are nosey. Just let her and El talk about poetry.” Steve surged into the conversation, getting up to retrieve an orange slice from the plate as he ruffled the hair on the teen’s head walking back to his seat in order to play it off.

You took a deep breath through your light-hearted smile, eyes dancing towards him to shoot him a grateful glance for his quick thinking.

The last thing you wanted to talk to the teens about was your tumultuous relationship that came to a world crumbling end. Plus, the teens were in their own relationships. You didn’t want to jeopardize their ideas of their own relationships because of your past one. They were smart and kind, and didn’t need to hear about your ex to know that about themselves.

Steve didn’t quite know what else your ex did to make you freeze up like this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up in the first place and he had to make up for that, to let you know that he had your back, even when it came to his own friends who were just as innocently curious as him.

He got the chance to peel back a layer of your history in private, something that he knew was a privilege to learn about, but he wouldn’t let you be put on the spot like this when you weren’t ready.

There was an ease to the room once Steve made it clear that your love life wasn’t up for discussion right now. Everyone just seemed to forget it was even brought up in the first place. El smoothly shifted topics back to poetry and took the moment to ask you if you still wrote from time to time, which you happily gave her the answer to.

Thankfully, poetry wasn’t the only topic of discussion.

Eddie had told you about his band Corroded Coffin that played every Tuesday and Sunday at the Hideout Bar where he also worked. The kids had been begging to go to a show in order to see him and his friends live, but since the bar had a very obvious and strict age limit, they’d just have to wait until they were 21.

Robin finally told you about her and Steve’s creepy manager Keith who had been smuggling R rated tapes from Family Video, which they then used against him in order to get days off whenever they wanted. Things only got funnier when Steve revealed that Keith had accidentally forgotten to switch the tapes back to the original casing, which led to a very angry mother coming in and demanding to speak to the manager when her son had brought home “Star Whores: Attack of the Silicone.”

At some point, you found yourself excessively laughing with Nancy and Robin while Jonathan reenacted his father, Hopper’s reaction to a stash of weed that he had bought off of Eddie. Hopper actually sounded pretty cool considering he was police chief and didn’t make the boy flush it down the toilet. Instead, just asking for a bit because he wanted to try to make weed brownies.

You definitely needed to meet him one day and hopefully ask him how the baking process was.

Lucas, on the other hand, had vented about the captain of the basketball team, Jason, who was a total asshole and didn’t know how to shoot a three pointer to save his life. Max suggested that one of them attack him from behind and break his leg so that Lucas could be the star player for the season.

But somehow Mike had an even more vicious plan, to poison him and take him out for good—but of course he looked at you, with cautious hands held out, “We’re just kidding by the way!”

To say that you enjoyed yourself this afternoon would be an understatement because, for the first time in forever, it felt as though your social battery wasn’t draining. You would want to spend the rest of the day here in Steve’s living room listening to them talk about their lives and ask you about your mundane one.

But time always went by fast when you were spending it with people who were so fun and carefree, so when you caught the hour on Steve’s clock, you knew you had to get going.

Everyone gave you a hug, thanking you for stopping by and of course bringing the pie, the same one that they were begging you to bring the next time you would come into Hawkins. And you sure did promise you would. Robin, being the sweet friend she was, attempted to convince you to stay a little while longer, but you knew you had to go, and you’d make it up to her another time—hopefully a girls’ night in the coming weeks.

Steve was the only one missing from the living room having excused himself to the kitchen a little while earlier to get the dirty dishes done. He even warned everyone to make sure you stayed in your seat and didn’t come in to help him clean up, knowing you would sneak up and try to offer it. After releasing a very tight and giggly hug from Robin, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.

“Steve?” You knocked your fist against the archway, catching his attention as he turned to look over his shoulder.

“Hey, need something?” He asked, quickly shutting off the faucet and drying his hands on the kitchen towel hanging near the sink.

You shook your head, gesturing down to your purse slung over your shoulder, “I’m actually heading out now. Gotta get home before rush hour.”

He stooped dramatically, making you laugh as you offered your most sarcastic yet sincerest apologies for the departure of your presence.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He gestured, leading the way while you waved goodbye to everyone in the living room before following Steve out the front door.

“Thanks again for letting me come over.” You chirped, with your shoulders coming in shyly.

He waved it off, smiling down at you, “It’s no problem, it was really nice meeting you…I can’t wait to come over to your place.”

“I’m looking forward to it too…I just don’t know if I’ll be half the host that you were.”

“Don’t, you’re gonna be fine. Drive safe alright?”

You brushed your hair back behind your ear, nodding as you smiled once more, “I will, see you around Steve.”

Your arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around his neck, hugging him ardently. Even if you were wearing his clothes, smothered in the scent of his detergent and him, his senses were filled with you.

A bright vanilla aroma coming from you, and with your hair blowing in his face, he could help but drown in it, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to hug you like this.

But alas, he had to let go, his large hands giving your shoulders a warm one over before finally pulling away and seeing your smiley face.

He stood by the porch, watching as you got into your car, taking note of every little detail of your movements.

Placing your purse in the passengers and checking the contents making sure you didn’t leave anything behind buckling in. You checked your mirrors while twirling the ends of your hair between your fingers, securing the locks against your back and the chair. After a few seconds, he could hear the gear change and watched as you twiddle your fingers upon the steering wheel, waving one last goodbye as you reversed out of his driveway.

“See ya…” He mouthed, with a tight smile, waving before you drove off.

The distance between Hawkins and Roane Country was almost an hour, which gave you a lot of time to think about today and especially wonder about Steve Harrington.

Honest to God, every time you’d catch him in your peripheral, beaming and nodding along at your conversations, you found yourself almost tumbling over your words. He was that distracting, in the best way possible.

There was something endearing about him, perhaps his ability to read your social cues or maybe the fact that he actually showed interest in you and whatever you were talking about. Even if he didn’t get it, you could tell he was listening intently, eyes following you wherever your hands and sights drifted, like a willow bending right to the wind.

You wished you had the guts to strike up a conversation with him in front of everyone else, but you were sure that if you did everyone would take note of how your shyness reached a whole other level with a pretty guy sitting in front of you. Steve was easy to talk to, but you didn’t know if you were easy to react when it came to anything he said.

His words. His smile. His laughter.

All of it trickled with a honey so sweet that it made your stomach ache and blood rush hot. A feeling that was so foreign after all of this time, yet you couldn’t help but want more. To get to talk to him, even if it was just him insulting your ex with low blows because he deserved it.

But his raw emotions. Him letting his guard down. His thoughtfulness.

It exuded the warmth of freshly ground cinnamon, something that had layers to it. Like a punch in the gut that surprised you in a way that was too profound to explain further. He didn’t even hesitate telling you about his parents and how troubling it felt to be given so much from them yet so little at the same time.

It felt like you were throwing a bunch of colors onto a canvas, not knowing where this was headed, maybe off a cliff or down a dead-end street. Or maybe back home with you where everything would be bliss. You could never really tell.

With Steve, it felt different, very complicated.

Perhaps you were getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, his actions weren’t too far fetched from the others who made you feel just as comfortable and made you laugh just as hard. Yet you didn’t feel this way towards Eddie or Robin and definitely not towards Nancy and Jonathan.

But feelings like these oftentimes just over complicated things, like this very moment right now where you shouldn’t be contemplating this in the first place.

It was too soon to ever know and you could bank on it being counterfeit. Something you’d look back on and laugh at because maybe it was better off with you and Steve being friends, just like everyone else. Nothing more, nothing less, just friends.

The afternoon glow cascaded your kitchen, a soft ochre hue bouncing off your window pane and showering your body in the warmth. Stevie Nicks’ voice sang through the space on your radio while you stirred the florals in the boiling water.

A few knocks echoed through your door, accompanied by various voices that grew louder. Looking over at the time on the microwave, it read “3:12p.m.” in bright neon green lights.

They were on time.

“Coming!” you shrieked out, cutting the music and lowering the heat on the stove before you walked over the door, undoing the latch and twisting the lock open.

With a wide grin, you stretched the door open, and their chatter subsided, turning their attention towards you, their eyes glittering with anticipation.

Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most lavish, but it was undeniably you. Just from the front door alone, your personality was oozing among the space—plants were displayed on a shelf near the door alongside a handmade pottery bowl for keys and small belongings that rested on a small table.

Straight ahead was your kitchen just as personalized as the entrance. The counters complimented with a delicate flower-patterned backsplash along with wooden cabinets you had stained to wash out the unpleasant color that came with the place originally.

It was so very much you.

“Come in! Come in!” You ushered them with animated welcoming arms.

The teens stepped through first, peering around as they traveled further into your home. Your living room another lively space with an olive green couch and swinging chair you splurged on and surprisingly hung all by yourself. And of course, unfinished and half-painted canvases decked the walls.

You met cheek to cheek with Robin and Nancy, the same fond welcome you had gotten accustomed to giving to your lady friends. Eddie and Jonathan took you in for a side hug, giving you a smile.

Steve was the last one to enter with a vase carrying a blend of lively flowers in one of his hands. He wore a striped polo, one of the many that you saw hanging in his closet, a pair of blue jeans, Nike’s Cortez’ that was totally his style, and of course his world famous smile.

“I’m so glad you made it.” You murmured, opening your arms as he walked into you and wrapped his arms snuggly across your back.

You squeeze your arms around him affectionately, inhaling the subtle aroma of mint and sandalwood that he wore. Something that you became familiar with since your last interaction where he walked you out to your car and said goodbye to you in the same way he was saying hello.

Of course, Steve had made it. There was no way he was going to miss it. Not after you graced his home with your presence. If anything, Steve was the one who rushed everyone into Eddie’s van to get here on time to see you.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes flutter open as you both released the hug, yet never stepped back to open the proximity.

“Been looking forward to it all week,” he brought the hand holding the vase up, prompting them towards you with a grin, “…and these are for you.”

You let go, wrapping your fingertips around the glass, admiring the blues, pinks, whites, and greens of the arrangements. Summer flowers, the kind that bloom the entire season before spring comes along and cuts their time too short before winter arrives.

You had been busy for the past couple of weeks that you didn’t even realize that you had forgotten to take a trip to your local florist to pick up some of your favorites, nevertheless Steve’s would suffice.

Closing your eyes, you breathed in the citrusy sweet fragrance from the baby pink peonies in the bunch, then you opened them back up, orbs filled with gratitude as you stared at him.

“Steve, these are beautiful. Thank you!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Unfortunately, none of us are good bakers, so I’m glad you like it.”

Laughing, you gestured him towards the living room where everyone had already gotten themselves comfortable, while you made a quick pit stop towards the kitchen to place the flowers on the windowsill to get some sunshine.

Making your way back to everyone you saw Nancy and Jonathan sat on the couch looking worriedly at the teens, “Guys, don’t break anything!”

They both warned in unison, watching as the youngsters made a beeline to the comics and magazines you had lying around on the coffee table.

“No worries, I break something like every other day in here. Totally klutz!” You assured her with a wave, seeing her take a sigh of relief and Jonathan sending you a gracious nod.

“This place is cooler than you described!” Robin blurted, fidgeting her fingertips against each other as she continued to look around trying to spot some things that she remembered you telling her about over the phone.

Striding towards the cluttered coffee table, you noticed the kids not having much space to flip the books and magazines. You had spent the entire morning doing laundry and touching up a painting for your upcoming gallery that you had skipped cleaning the mess up before they had arrived.

You apologized, moving to pick up some paint bottles you had lying around “Sorry it’s a little messy…I was busy all morning,” placing them back in their designated bin underneath the table, while they waved you off, not bothered by the mess at all.

“Did you paint this today?” Will sought, setting down the comic and shuffling towards the easel where a semi-wet canvas laid.

You nodded, walking over and standing next to the piece, and holding your hands behind your back shyly.

“It’s supposed to look like the sunset from a few days ago.”

The sky filled with purple, orange, and yellow tinges to encapsulate the sundown you caught on the drive back to Roane from Hawkins.

“Did you use a photo as a reference?” Mike inquired, squinting his eyes to really take in the detail of the sky and hues used.

You shook your head, knocking your temple with your finger, “I have a really good photographic memory…once I see something I can usually replicate it when my brush hits the canvas.”

“How fascinating.” Will murmured, allowing himself to walk along the walls, looking at all your other paintings you had hanging up.

You clasped your hands together, a genuine sense of respite washing over you as you noticed everyone appearing at ease.

Robin was completely in her own world, fascinated with your overflowing vinyl collection that littered your tv stand.

Nancy and Jonathan were talking softly amongst themselves, smiling as they pointed and admired parts of your apartment, hoping they could have their own one day.

Eddie had taken a seat on the floor, back resting on the couch cushions as he flipped through a comic he picked up.

Steve looked to be just as comfortable, swinging slightly in the hanging chair admiring everyone else, happy that his friends were comfortable in the new space.

You clapped your hands together faintly, just enough for yourself to hear the celebration, “Just feel free to look around! I have a patio over there, but there’s nothing much out there except plants and a little table.”

They looked up to where your finger pointed at the sliding door on the other side of the living room, a cream meshed curtain pulled back to let in the natural sunlight.

Then, you turned your attention to Eddie, bending down a bit to tap his shoulder and point again at the terrace outside, “Eddie, I put out a small glass dish out there if you wanted to take a smoke, just in case.”

You noticed that he had excused himself to Steve’s backyard in order to take a smoke break, so you figured you get that set up for him just in case.

He flashed you a sincere smile, nodding “Thank you,”

You nodded, patting his shoulder before standing straight and excusing yourself to the kitchen to get things prepared.

Steve didn’t quite know if he was more so appreciating his friends finally opening up to a new place that wasn’t his own or seeing you being so welcoming to people you only met a few days ago. Nevertheless, it felt nice, a little warm feeling inside to know that you were so kind and open to them.

He also didn’t know if it made him a weirdo for wanting to stray wherever you went, getting up to follow you into the kitchen just to get a chance to talk to you without the lingering ears of his friends.

You stood there with one hand on your hip and the other stirring some mixture in the pot before turning off the heat completely.

“What’s this?” his soft voice whispered over your shoulder, producing you to bounce slightly before glancing back.

He had a small apologetic smile on his face, almost like a wince.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve said as you shook your head, lips curled into a grin when you turned back to stir the liquid.

“Lavender and mint.” You bubbled, drawing the saucepan off the stove and holding it out, just enough to get a sniff of the aroma.

His hand cupped together in the air, wafting the sweet steam towards him, “And it’s tea?”

“Yeah!…Or you could refrigerate it and make it into lemonade, though I should’ve done this hours ago so that I could…you don’t think it’s too hot for tea do you?”

Your forehead scrunched up in woe, setting the pot back down and reaching to slide the window in front of you open. Sticking your hand out, you flipped it back and forth, trying to feel the air and its warmth.

It was totally warm out, but Steve wouldn’t let you know that. He just shook his head, following your actions and sticking his hand out to feel the air, “No, it’s like the perfect weather…I could go for some tea.”

You looked toward him, giving him a sickly sweet smile as you turned to the opposite side of the kitchen, heading into one of the cupboards to grab mugs.

“Let me help you.” Steve offered, taking the ones from your hand with ease and placing them onto the counter.

He didn’t allow you to grab the other seven remaining mugs, as he did it himself, lining them up perfectly so it would be easier to pour and serve.

“Do you like milk in your tea?” You questioned, padding over to the fridge and seizing every bottle of milk you had.

He thought for a second, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to recall a memory, but he was sure that the last time he had milk and tea was when he attended one of his father's boring business conferences when he was a child.

“I’ve never tried it, is it any good?” Steve asked, leaning against the counter’s edge to watch you clutch the mason jars against your chest.

You smiled with a nod, fingers holding up one of the glass jars you had labeled, “almond” before placing them all right next to the mugs.

“You make your own milk?” He looked surprised, picking up the jar and inspecting the liquids that looked store-bought.

“It’s super easy and because it doesn’t take my time I just make a new glass every week.” You told him as you waltzed over to the boiler, picking up the pot before cautiously pouring a serving into each mug.

He watched you closely, noting how you bit your lip in concentration, making sure each mug got the same amount of tea, not wanting anyone to have less or too much than they wanted. You smiled to yourself, eventually letting go of your bottom lip when the last mug was filled perfectly, spinning around in your sock covered feet to place the remaining liquid back on the stove.

He did his best to hide his smile, endeared with your behavior for something as simple as pouring some tea. You rubbed your hands together, finally turning back to him and nodding your chin at the mugs.

“You should get the first taste!”

“You sure?” He asked, already reaching for the ridiculously adorable strawberry mug that you usually always drank out of.

You giggled, bowing your head as he finally took a sip. His lips smacked against each other to search the flavor profile in an attempt to impress you with the enhanced taste buds that he clearly didn’t possess, but somehow he was still able to make you laugh, which was enough.

“It’s sweet but still a little minty—what milk do you usually go for?” He sat his cup down, fingers brushing over the jars, looking over the different milks you had.

Oat. Almond. Cashew.

“Oat, it’s the most neutral out of all of them and doesn’t disturb the flavor, in my opinion.” You responded, letting your elbow rest onto the counter to place your chin in your palm.

You watched him crack open the jar, pouring a tiny bit into his cup before looking at you, silently asking if it was enough. The jutting of your chin and smile prompted him to pour a little more, just until you squeaked and you both laughed before he sealed the jar shut.

The two of you watched the milk flow over the once sheer lilac brew as if it was going to stir itself. Only remembering now, you gasped dramatically, moving up to pull open the drawers on the opposite side of the kitchen in order to grab a handful of spoons.

“Sorry, I totally forgot!” You apologized, handing one to Steve as he snickered, shaking his head while he stirred his drink.

“Don’t have to apologize. You’re too nice of a host already.” He encouraged you, taking another sip of the tea and giving you wide eyes when it rushed down his larynx.

“Holy shit…this is good!” He said surprisingly, as you smirked, moving towards him to make yourself a cup.

Your fingers grabbed onto the vintage basketball mug before pouring in your own splash of oat milk. “Oh! I forgot to mention, I like to add honey sometimes. Do you wanna try?”

You tiptoed, attempting to grab the bear shaped bottle of honey, and Steve had easily raised his arm up, clutching it for you.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, taking it from him.

Steve was just happy to help, beaming warmly and watching you squeeze a tiny bit of honey into your cup and he happily did the same when you passed him the bottle.

You both took a sip at the same time, smiling tightly as you watched each other before swallowing. It was silly. So the two of you chuckled. Shaking your head at how silly it was.

“I didn’t mean to stare at you while you…sorry, that was weird of me.” You palmed your forehead dumbly, closing your eyes with a slight smile as Steve chuckled and hummed something that sounded like a “no” as he took another sip of the sweetness.

He shook his head, waving your worries away as he kept his hand on the handle of the mug when the other came down to rest on his hip, “I didn’t mean to stare either…I just didn’t want to look away from your tea-drinking skills.”

You cocked your head to the side, letting both sets of hands wrap around your warm mug as you rose a brow at him.

“My tea drinking skills?”

He smirked, nodding confidently, “Yeah, you know it’s a real art to not spill all over yourself. People do it all the time.”

There was a playful look coating your features, your eyes squinting shut as the smile took over before your laugh, shaking your head ridiculously at him.

“You’re impressed way too easily, Steve.”

Maybe it was the fact that you both were sipping tea in the middle of summer or perhaps the airflow in your kitchen was poor, but either way it didn’t take much for you both to notice the fervor that developed. You two were only inches apart. The space could be closed just by one sway towards each other’s bodies.

The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, watching you take another sip as you tore your eyes away with the heat rushing to the apples of your cheeks. You looked pretty like this; he was sure you always did, but something about you here in your own kitchen surrounded by everything that was you felt just about right.

“I can’t help it…” You snapped your eyes back up at him, seeing him lift his shoulder with a placid grin on his face as he spoke.

“I’m always going to be impressed when it comes to you. Even when it’s just tea and a pretty—”

“What’s this!?”

The two of you jerked your eyes to Robin, leading the rest of the pact behind her into your kitchen. You swore he was just about to call you a pretty girl, certain even, but there were a million things he could’ve said.

Pretty mug.

Pretty kitchen.

Pretty apartment.

Pretty girl.

Pretty you.

No! He wasn’t. There was no way.

You quickly leaned off the counter, gesturing to them as Steve scooted over to make way for everyone else. They all picked up a mug, conversing amongst each other as they began drinking and popping open the milk and honey, serving themselves.

“It’s Lavender mint tea! I also have homemade oak, almond, and cashew milk so hopefully none of you are allergic…but if you want, I could run to the store and pick up some whole milk, it’s only down the road anyway so it won’t be long—“

Steve could sense the anxiety in your ramble, unsure if it was because of him and the line he had casted out towards you, or maybe because of the sudden intrusion of his friends that made it feel like you two had been caught when in actuality you both weren’t doing anything wrong.

Steve halted the jabber, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder as everyone helped themselves to the tea, not aware of what you had been saying.

“None of them are allergic, so you’re fine…don’t need to go all out for some kids from Hawkins,” he looked around at his friends who were too busy to care, “everything you’re doing is perfect.”

You clutched the mug in your hands, taking a sip again feeling your heart thump at his words. You didn’t understand what sorcery was going on, but you did know that Steve Harrington had a way with words and every sweet thing that left his lips made you feel like you were floating.

Steve swore that he could see a pink blush creeping onto your face, but the mug you had tilted closer to your face hid it. It was cute; he didn’t know why you took so weirdly to compliments. It was something that he noticed right off the bat when you two first met. The way that if anyone said something nice about you, you felt the need to downplay it or not respond at all.

But Steve would keep complimenting you because you truly were someone that deserved to know their worth. So he smiled, continuing to watch the way you tried to hide your blush, while he sipped on his tea.

Robin wasn’t clueless to the two of you, sure she didn’t have the best timing, but she could read the both of you. The way you and he would stare at each other for too long and even how you’d both stray to each other if the other ran off somewhere else.

She knew where this was going.

Coughing lightly to clear her throat, she tapped you on the shoulder.

“Do you mind showing me the bathroom?”

You nodded, a tight smile on your face as you brushed past Steve, but not without your arms grazing before you led her out of the kitchen and into the opposite hallway where your bedroom and the bathroom was.

“It’s in here,” reaching forward and twisting the door open to reveal the bathroom.

Robin smirked wickedly, seizing one of your arms and pulling you into the restroom before shutting the door.

You shrieked and snorted all in one, startled at her action and trying to steady the mug in your hand so you didn’t spill any.

“Robs!”

She pressed her back against the door, a woozy smile on her face as she widened her eyes at you, “What the hell was that in there?!”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically, “Oh my god, shush, he could hear you! It was nothing!”

Robin laughed, as you tugged her a ways bit from the door, hoping that no one, and especially Steve, didn't hear the conversation that was happening inside here. She opted to close the toilet lid, sitting on top of it while you leaned against the counter, still sipping on your tea to avoid talking about this, but Robin seemed to have no plans to stop.

“It didn’t look like nothing! You guys were like milliliters apart, and his eyes were all dreamy and full of stars when he was staring at you!”

Her hands twiddled around in the air, trying to show you what she meant, and you knew exactly what she meant because you saw his orbs in the same light. Like an ocean of stars and glitter every time he had his eyes on you long enough for you to catch it—to make a wish on them.

“His eyes are always dreamy.” You countered out loud, instantly regretting that statement as Robin clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal.

You bit back a smile, turning your head the other way so she couldn’t see the way you were absolutely blushing out of your mind.

“I knew it! I could feel the tension in that kitchen and I just knew it! And the other day? You two just couldn’t stop looking at each other. You guys are totally crushing and are gonna fall in love!”

God, you couldn’t even remember when’s the last time you actually had a crush on someone attainable. All the guys you liked were fictional, from books, tv shows, and movies, because at least those guys were mesmerizing and actually respectable people. But Steve felt like that too, that one out of a million that you could actually see and have the privilege of being around let alone talking to.

He was so out of your league, there was no possible way he could’ve meant what he was going to say as a genuine romantic compliment. He was just being friendly. Just being the same Steve that Robin described to you before you had even met him. The same Steve who graciously covered for you when you didn’t want to talk about your asshole ex boyfriend.

The Steve that had you thinking about him on your drive back home wishing you were watching the sunset with him—

You heard the snap of her fingers, before feeling her stand up and make her way in front of you where she stood and clutched your shoulders, causing you to look at her. Shaking your head, you sighed heavily, finally prompting her a response after those grueling composing seconds.

“He’s just nice, Robin, and I’m sure he’s being kind because we just met. I barely know him! You said it yourself, remember? Steve’s a nice guy.” You said seriously, setting down your mug on the open counter space as she pouted and shook her head.

“No, I mean yeah, Steve is nice, but he’s being abnormally kind to you. The kind of kindness where it’s all sappy and lovey. It kinda makes me want to throw up, but also makes me want to kick my legs like an idiot because seeing him this way after all this time is actually nice.”

She explained with a complicated look that quickly turned into smiles and fondness, realizing that Steve was actually putting himself out there and you just were too foreign to it all. She watched as you took another deep breath, letting your shoulders stoop against her hold as you held your head in your hands.

“I stood there like an idiot Robs. He said something really nice to me and I…I just stood there! Gosh, he probably thinks I'm totally dumbass or something.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, giving your skin an encouraging squeeze when you finally looked up at her.

“Trust me, Steve doesn’t think you’re an idiot or a dumbass, or anything bad. He's genuinely so enthralled by you. And this is the same guy whose attention span is shorter than mine, so that’s saying quite a lot if, after the first hangout he’s already asking more about you.”

Your eyebrows curled into a frown before raising curiously, silently asking Robin to tell you what she meant before she licked her lips, eyes darting around the bathroom trying to pick one out of the many scenarios where Steve had asked about you.

“Umm, okay, this one!” She decided confidently, nodding her head and furrowing her brows roughly to mimic Steve earlier this morning at the florist.

“Which flowers do you think she likes best? She’s like super into florals, right? Is she allergic to anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to show up with flowers that she’s allergic to. That’s like fucking embarrassing Robs. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna pick the prettiest flowers and hope she doesn’t end up sneezing or anything.”

You snickered at her impression of Steve’s voice and mannerisms, feeling your heart swarm as you thought it was pretty sweet that he was taking the time to ask about you, let alone think about putting in so much effort into those flowers he had brought for you.

“That’s actually really adorable,” you admitted, while Robin smiled and tilted her head, watching you thoughtfully.

She removed her grip for your shoulders, hands softly clapped while she shrieked while you rolled your eyes playfully at her delight. “See! I’m like cupid or something! Just yennooo…try throwing out a compliment and if it feels weird or wrong, then you’ll know. But I think we both know how it’s gonna go!”

“Sure cupid,” You rolled your eyes lovingly before going deep again, “I just don’t want to mess things up, alright? If somehow we’re both reading this wrong, I don’t want to lose him as a friend. It’s gonna put me in an awkward position if he doesn’t feel the same, so just for my sake, let’s just keep this conversation between us?”

You held out your pinky finger towards her, where she immediately crossed her fingers over her heart and proceeded to hook her pinky with yours.

“Promise!” she vowed, kissing her thumb as you giggled and did the same to yours.

When you two unhooked fingers, she crossed her arms and looked back at the toilet then at you, “I still really gotta pee, so…”

You tsked, chuckling lightly as you picked up your mug and gave her a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom to give her some privacy. When you walked down the hallway back into your living room, everyone looked relaxed, sitting on the couch or just hanging around the floor enjoying their cups of homemade tea while they talked amongst themselves.

Steve was in his previous seat, rocking back and forth in the hanging chair still nursing his lavender mint tea. When you came into view, he flashed you a smile, almost a questioning one, asking if everything was alright considering you were just in the bathroom with his best friend for quite some time. You assured him a nod and a small curl of your lips, ushering him to nod back.

That god he didn’t seem phased by the previous kitchen interaction.

“What’s that?” You requested, settling on the carpeted floor where Will and the rest of the teenagers were sitting near the coffee table flipping through a book.

Will glanced over with a shrug, sliding the book towards you, giving you a chance to see the art that covered the pages. You were amazed, setting down your mug and pulling the book closer as you looked into each stroke of the pencil and all the shading.

“Will, these are beautiful.” You nudged him casually with your elbow, making him smile, while he watched you flip through the next few pages where more illustrations filled the sheet.

One of the pages that caught your eye was a figure, one dressed in a cloak with a pointy wizard hat, and it looked a bit like Will. Maybe a self-portrait of some kind for that fantasy game he and the boys played.

“They’re not as good as yours, but I wanted to bring it so I could show you what I’ve been working on.” He told you, while you frowned and reached to rest your hand onto his, giving it a squeeze.

“No, these are amazing. I mean, this is just incredible…when I was your age all I could draw were stick figures.”

The laugh that Will let out made you smile and so did the reinforcing words coming from his friends, egging him on and telling him how awesome all of his sketches were. You knew that art was subjective, and even when you yourself were hard on the work that you made, you also had to find it within yourself to be kind.

And you wanted Will to feel the same way, because he truly had a talent for art and you wished you had someone when you were younger who encouraged you to pursue it sooner.

“I actually have a bunch of spare paints and brushes, and other supplies that you can take home.” You told him.

Shifting to your knees as you began reaching under the coffee table where some storage bins were located, filled with some paints you hadn’t yet used. You began pulling them out one by one, setting them on the coffee table and talking to Will about each of the brands and colors.

From Steve’s place, he could see more of you than Will whose back was facing him. He saw the way your nose crinkled distastefully as you expressed your dislike of certain paint brands because of the opacity and smell. Then how quickly the look of disgust was replaced by a bark of hilarity as Will told you something about his mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee to battle the horrible smell of some of the paints he used.

Steve hoped it didn’t make him a creep for always watching you, but it was out of admiration than it was out of flirtation. He preferred watching you because there was a way about you—an ease, almost one that even yourself didn’t quite notice, but he did.

To him, the best way to describe the feeling he got around you was almost like a secret garden.

One filled with every kind of flower blooming under the radiating sun. Trees growing so tall with birds settling on the stretching branches. The air the perfect kind of cool where bees and butterflies pass through as they soar through the sky. A calm waterfall trickling into a pond that calls out to everyone to jump in freely.

For Steve, it’s like jumping in and getting lost in you…exactly as he’s doing right now.

In simpler terms, people gravitated towards you, not solely for your sweetness or kindness, but for how genuine you actually were.

Even in Steve’s own experiences, he knew he was guilty of just nodding along and pretending to understand what any of the teens were talking to him about.

Video games. Computers. Poetry. Skateboarding. Dungeons and Dragons. Painting. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Crushes. Whatever it was; just going in one ear and out the other while they kept talking and talking and talking.

But not you.

If anything, you immersed yourself into their world even when it wasn’t something that you could fully wrap your head around like that fantasy game. Yet you never failed to ask questions in order to learn more about it, but it was mostly because you loved to see their faced light up when talking about something that they enjoyed without needing to worry about sounding nerdy.

He wished he could talk to you about anything, and he knew he could, but just not right now. Not with everyone sitting here when all he wanted to do was tell you how down to earth you were and how it was even impossible for you to be real.

But indeed real you were meeting his eyes for only a split second before you turned it all back to Will as he spoke.

“Do you think I could try to paint something?” Will asked you timidly, almost anxious of being a nuance, but you bubbled out an excited yelp, scrambling to your feet as you rushed to your bedroom in order to grab a blank canvas that you were sure you weren’t going to use.

“Where is it?” You puffed, hauling open your closet door in hopes of you finding it in some bin that you stored all your excess supplies in.

A knock sounded on the doorway wall, prompting you to call out a reply instead of actually looking at who it was, just assuming that it was Will or one of the other kids.

“Need any help?”

Steve’s voice had you ceasing all movements, encouraging you to take a deep breath and realize that the whole kitchen thing was over. Right now, you needed to get it together and not make things weird. You exhaled softly, peeping back from behind your closet to see him leaning against your door frame with a small smile before you nodded.

“It’s so bare in here.”

He joked, looking around the room where the only piece of artwork hanging was one above your bed. A total lunar eclipse with its blood-red moon shining bright against a dark sky with tiny stars scatters around it.

You gasped subsequently, finding the smaller canvas and standing up from the ground, “I like that my bedroom is sorta away from all the chaos out there.”

Your hands motioned to the outside of the door, making circles and rolling your eyes, as if the living room was such a chaotic mess, when it really wasn’t. He chuckled, shaking his head before raising his brow at you.

“Anything else we need?”

Yeah, some fucking composure, Steve, because now I’m thinking of a compliment to spit out so we can get a feel of whatever the fuck we have going on.

You nodded, dropping the canvas on your bed and strolling over to the bottom drawers of your dresser where more supplies were stored.

“Yeah, some new brushes and a paint pallet for him.”

He watched you, totally oblivious of your nerves and instead in awe of how considerate you were being, by lending Will new items rather than just letting him borrow what you already had.

“You’re going to spoil the kid rotten.” He quipped, seeing as you couldn’t pick between two different shades of blue paint tubes and instead, just threw both of them into the pile you were amassing for Will.

You looked up, looking as innocent as ever and shaking your head, more than happy to spoil the kid.

“These have just been sitting here waiting to be used and Will will probably use it more than I ever will.”

He chuckled, coming down beside you, kneeling on the floor to help gather the paint tubes in his hands knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry it all by yourself. Your fingers brushed each other as you both grabbed a few, eyes flickering up to each other with a quiet laugh, continuing on before he spoke just as delicately.

“You’re really too sweet.”

Now’s the opening…just be smooth and throw it out there.

“I’d like to think I am,” you replied, snickering to yourself, when on the inside you were screaming.

He looked to you, seeing as though you tried to brush it off, “No, really, I mean it, you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met…no one has ever put this much thought into a hang out before.”

You looked almost smitten under his gaze, tucking your cheek into your shoulder and trying to play it off as a shrug despite the smile he could see seeping upon your face. He found it cute. Though he didn’t know why you tried to hide it, he wanted to make you smile and make you feel good about yourself.

“You really think so?” You asked unabashedly, following his head nod with a grin.

“I’d go as far as saying you’re the sweetest girl I think I’ll ever meet.”

Play it cool.

“You must not have met many girls then?” You stood up, hearing his chuckle as he followed your lead.

“Don’t really want to meet any other ones anymore.” He countered.

Strike and get a feel of it.

You grabbed the canvas off your bed as you swooped by. “Robin wasn’t kidding when she said you were charming.”

“She said that?” He said comically, and you giggled nodding and walking out of your bedroom with him trailing behind you.

Throw it out there.

“Yeah, which isn’t totally surprising, considering the fact that you’re pretty sweet yourself.”

There was a glint of teasing to your voice, not that it was too different from the sweetness that dripped from it regularly, but he could tell there was something more there. He didn’t want to think too hard about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his never-ending questions, so instead he clung to it, hoping he’d get the chance to hear something like that coming from only you ever again.

“Here you go, Will,” you crooned cheerfully, entering the living room with Steve trailing behind you with the paints.

Will’s eyes lit up with excitement, sitting up on his knees as you two placed the items on the coffee table. You sat beside him while Steve went back to the chair, watching in on you explaining to Will each of the pigments and their properties.

This time he wasn’t doing a lot of listening, his mind still caught up in your words and if it meant what he thought it did. He was going to call you a pretty girl back in the kitchen, that is before Robin and the rest of the gang had stumbled in to stop him.

Was that compliment supposed to be a response to his?

Was what you said even a compliment?

Of course it was…hell you could’ve you said he reminded you of a golden retriever and he’d take it with pride and brag to everyone that a pretty girl compared him to a cuddly animal.

But was he just maybe reading into it too much?

You were always dishing out compliments to everyone, saying how great and talented they were, but not with the undertone you had spoken to him with. Perhaps he had misheard you and now he was doing all of this overthinking just to end off at the same place you both started, which was friends.

Just friends.

“Steve, could you come with me and Eddie to the kitchen, please?”

Robin and Eddie both stood, looking at him sharply as they shuffled into the kitchen, signaling for Steve to follow their lead.

He furrowed his brows, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen, “What’s up?”

“You’re being fucking weird!” Eddie's whisper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Steve looked taken aback, looking at his two friends puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re thinking too hard. What’s the matter?” Robin softly prodded, crossing her arms across her chest.

“W-what? No, I’m fine…I’m just thinking…” He said, avoiding Robin’s knowing eyes as he looked at Eddie instead.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “You keep following her everywhere, yet you’re not making a move. Everyone in that damn living room can feel the tension between you guys.”

“There is no tension!” Steve claimed quietly, peering back and making sure you still were laser focused on the painting.

He looked back at his two friends, resting his hands on his hips, “I’m being friendly alright. I want to make her feel comfortable and help out the same way she did. That’s all.”

Robin threw an unconvinced look his way, before gesturing towards Eddie, “When you met Eddie, you made fun of him for nicknaming his guitar sweetheart, it’s not the same.”

“Because Eddie isn’t a girl!” Steve argued, only causing Eddie to raise a brow, holding a hand over his heart pretending he had just been wounded.

“Are you saying I’m ugly, Harrington?”

“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his temples.

Robin reached forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her, “Dude…stop thinking so hard about it. If you like her, just be cool about it. Ask her out if you want. I don’t know…j-just do anything besides what you were doing out there because you looked like you were in pain and it was just weird.”

Did he really looked pained?

Steve blinked, trying to process debating if he wanted to ask Robin if he really looked that bad or for some fucking advice to man up and ask you out already. He didn’t know what he was avoiding, knowing that usually if he liked a girl, he’d just go in and take the shot to ask, but with you, he just couldn’t.

There was too much to lose if something went south.

His thinking was cut short by Eddie who began snapping his fingers, pointing victoriously like he and Robin cracked some sort of secret Russian code or something.

“We were right!” He started poking at Robin’s cheek as she grumbled yet bit back a smile.

Eddie pointed towards Steve again, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “What’d I tell you? Harrington is usually so quick to slide on in and ask a girl out and now suddenly he meets a gorgeous down-to-earth-painter-baker-girl and now he’s whipped!”

He drummed his fingers on Robin’s shoulder, making her laugh before turning to her best friend, suddenly bright pink in the cheeks.

“You must really really like her if you’re not using those god awful pickup lines to make her fall for you.” She said half jokingly.

Steve shrugged, moving away from the two and instead reached for his tea mug and taking a sip of the now semi-warm liquid. “Maybe…I—I dunno…I just don’t want to rush things because she knows about King Steve and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

Robin tilted her head, looking apologetic, “She told you I told her about that?”

He shook his head, looking at her dully, “No, but she did say you said I was charming, which pretty much gives it away…also you’re such a terrible liar.”

“Am not!” She gasped, lightly punching him in the arm.

Steve didn’t look so convinced, arguing back without hitting her, “Yeah you are!”

“Fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie sighed, rocking his head at the two.

“Is everything ok?” Your cool speech came ringing in the small kitchen, making the three of them stutter, trying to not look so suspicious.

“Y-yeah, fine! Umm, they were just wondering if you had more tea!” Steve lied, turning his eyes back to Robin and widening them, signaling for her to let go of his shoulders, which she did.

He made his way over to the stove, peeking into the pot that had only a bit of tea left.

“Oh, I can make some more if you’d like?” You responded, moving further into the kitchen to meet Steve at the stove.

With your back turned to Robin and Eddie, they both motioned their way out of the space to give him more time with you, but not before shooting him a suggestive wink.

“Uh, no, no need for that. I’ll just take what’s left…Eddie and Robin have ummm, small bladders! I don’t want them complaining the whole way home later.”

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself while you attempted to stifle a laugh reaching for his mug and pouring the rest of the tea into his cup.

“Here you go,” you said, turning to him with his mug filled.

He flashed you an apologetic smile, saying a quiet “thank you” while you shake it off.

“Need anything else? A snack?”

His ears heard you loud and clear, but his eyes were stuck on the living room where Eddie and Robin were wildly gesturing their hands in the air, mouthing, “Just do it!”

For my friends to stop being dumbasses is what he wanted to say, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the two friends and giving his sights back to you.

“No, this is all. Thanks again.” He reassured you, earning a smile as you both walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room.

Taking your place between Max and Will who were painting, you were able to get a glimpse of the work they had completed for the short time you were gone. Max had wanted to join in after getting tired of the comic she was reading.

“Oh, this is amazing—shoot, I’m so sorry!”

You weren’t quite sure why you were here apologizing at the fact that Max had accidentally turned towards you with a paintbrush in her hand, smearing gold all over the front of your shirt, but here you were.

“Shit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” The red head said, clutching a hand over her mouth as you shook your head.

“No, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. It’s okay, the paint comes off easily in the wash, I’ll go get changed!” You yelped, getting up and jogging down the hallway into your room.

Max turned to Steve, glaring at him.

“Really? Eddie and Robin have small bladders? That’s the best excuse you came up with?”

He scratched the back of his neck, leaning forward, “W-what?”

“Max just bought us some time to tell you how weird you’re being.” Lucas smirked, glancing at Max who looked proud of her quick idea.

Dustin snorted in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from his comic, “If you’re gonna keep staring at her and following her around like a minion you might as well as her out!”

“I’m not asking her out on a date with all of you here!” Steve countered, staring at all of his friends like they were insane.

Robin rolled her eyes, looking at Nancy, then him, “You asked Nancy to have six kids that time we went road tripping a few years ago. What difference does that make now?”

Mike groaned, covering his face in discomfort remembering overhearing that conversation. “I didn’t have to be reminded of my sister hypothetically having six babies with Steve.”

Jonathan snapped his eyes to Nancy who widened her eyes at Robin, “When was this?” He asked.

Nancy shook her head, brushing him off, “A long time ago, so it doesn’t matter. And they’re right, you and her obviously have chemistry, so why not just stop wasting time and get it over with?”

“No, we don’t,” Steve shook his head, not sounding as convincing as he’d like.

Nance tilted her head, giving him those doubtful eyes, “Really? Do you actually believe that for one second?”

“You keep following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jonathan admitted, forgetting about the stupid six children thing and saving it for another day, seeing as though Steve really expected that they all couldn’t see right through you and him.

“Every time I look over at her to see if I’m doing something right, you’re in my peripheral ogling at her like a piece of art.” Will responded, tearing his eyes away from his canvas.

“It’s kinda cute.” El said with a giddy smile.

“She’s always smiling at you for some reason.” Max continued.

“Which is funny considering that you’re not that pretty to look at,” Eddie quipped, earning a scowl from Harrington.

Robin rolled her eyes at the men’s consistent banter, knowing she had to work fast before you came back out.

“What we’re trying to say is that she clearly likes you and you like her. You can try denying how you feel, but we know how you get when you start crushing on a girl, so don’t think your lying is going to fool any of us.”

She told him, which would've been reassuring, but asking a girl out in front of a crowd of people wasn’t something that sounded like a good time for him or you. It was just going to put you in that sticky spot with all the attention and most likely to say yes to save him the embarrassment.

He couldn’t do that to you.

“Well, I’m still not asking her out with you guys down my throat. Her and I are just friends. I need to get to know her first. Hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is or if she likes sports? These are things I should know before I ask a girl out!”

Who was Steve kidding and when did he start caring about frivolous shit like that? You and him could have nothing in common and still he would fawn over you and snowball this crush into something more. Even going as far to turn himself into Picasso's reincarnation if that would make you like him better.

“I’m back!” You grinned, sauntering down the corridor sporting none other than a cropped Red Sox t-shirt.

Steve’s favorite team, of course.

Eddie grunted, already on the tip of making a subtle note, just to see if he was right.

“Nice shirt, but didn’t they lose—“

“Oh, don’t even get me started! The game was totally rigged and if Buckner didn’t mess up that inning, Boston would’ve taken that championship home.” You said intensely, taking your seat between Max and Will once again.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Steve’s, watching them muddle with even more affection than before. You were his total dream girl. He knew it, and so did everyone else.

“Everything alright?” You chuckled after the short seconds of silence.

Grunts and hums came from everybody attempting to not fixate their gaze solely between you and Steve, but it was a bit tough considering the stare that Steve had locked on you.

“Peachy, just trying to remember that date because it was so memorable, and I wished that someone here would make a move and remember it.”

Robin emphasized her words sharply, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention in order for him to stop staring at you before you caught him.

Eddie joined in, coughing loudly to “clear” his throat only stopping when Steve finally snapped his eyes away from you.

“Yeah, you know what’s so funny about dates is that they mark something special and really help solidly the—“

You lifted your eyes from Will’s painting just in time as Steve shook it off the stare.

“October 27th 1986 but the series went from October 18th through the 27th if we want to get specific.”

Holy fuck. Holy shit. Holy Mother Of God.

“I—I gotta go to the bathroom!” Steve spat out speedily, resting his mug on the cramped coffee table and shooting up.

You creased your brows together, watching him trudge down the hallway, clumsily, “The first door on your right—“

“Right! Yep! Got it!” He called out, reaching for the handle and nearly propelling himself through the door and slamming it shut.

You tilted your head, letting out a grunt before turning your eyes to Robin, “I—Is he okay?”

She nodded with a broad smile, sitting up from the couch and knocking Eddie’s arm with her elbow, “He’s actually the one with a small bladder so…yenno, when nature calls am I right?”

“He and the toilet are gonna be awhile, a date if you will,” Eddie snorted, making you choke on a laugh before giving them a slow head nod and turning your attention back to Will and Max.

This was by the far the longest time Steve had ever spent staring at himself in the mirror for something not related to his looks. This time around, he was staring for another reason, trying to find the Steve within him that would actually pull the trigger and ask you out already. It was clear as day that he liked you. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of it, he knew his feelings.

But he also knew you were worth more than this and more than the old Steve.

The old Steve could easily swoon you with a pickup line and flirty eyes: the King Steve that you had heard about from Robin. But that wasn’t who Steve was anymore and it sure as hell wasn’t the version of himself he wanted to be when he was with you.

He wanted to be better, to show you that you actually did deserve someone with character within them. Even after all this improvement and trying to actually search for a relationship that consisted of love rather than just sex, he didn’t know if he was good enough for you. If you’d even want to go on a date with him.

He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a chance.

But what if all you wanted was to be friends?

Would that ruin your friendship with Robin?

Could you possibly imagine yourself ever being friends with her again after her best friend made a pass at you?

He liked you, but he loved Robin and knew this friendship meant a lot to her. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize it because of a crush even if Robin was fully in support of it.

Maybe you and him were supposed to be just friends.

“Steve! Dude, c’mon we gotta go.” Dustin’s voice came from the outside of the door, knocking firmly against the wood.

He furrowed his brows, unlocking the door and pulling it open, “Go? Go where? We just got here.”

Dustin sighed, gesturing back to the living room where you were helping the others clean up, “Nance called home and Mrs. Wheeler said that Holly had an allergic reaction. We gotta get home ASAP!”

“So why can’t Nancy and Mike go home and we stay?” Steve hissed more harshly than intended.

The boy shook his head in incredulity, crossing his arms over his chest, “Need I remind you we drove here in Eddie’s van? We all need to leave together or else you’re stranded in Roane, but by the sound of it, you wouldn’t mind at all.”

Dustin wore a knowing sneer while Steve bit down on his tongue, not really wanting to lash out on the kid who was pointing out the very obvious feelings that he did a horrible job at hiding.

“C’mon lover boy, we got a hive covered six-year-old who needs the hospital and we gotta house sit for a few hours.” Dustin said, finally patting Steve on the arm before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room.

He followed closely behind, seeing everyone begin the file out the door where you hugged each of them.

“I hope everything is ok with your sister! Please, just don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do to help!”

You tightly wrapped your arms around Nance, closing your eyes as you rubbed her back affectionately and heard her murmur a “thank you so much,” before pulling away.

“Bye! Thanks for having us, again!” Dustin saluted with a toothy grin before you giggled and hugged him.

Steve was the last one left in the doorway with you, keeping his hands to his side not knowing if he should open up to hug you first or not.

“Oh! Hold on, don’t go anywhere. I gotta give you something!” You pointed your finger at him and jogged through your apartment into your room, coming out a few seconds later with his yellow pullover folded neatly in your hands.

You held it out to him, wearing a smile on your face. “I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles. Sorry if it smells like honeysuckle, it’s just the detergent I use!”

His heart ached even more knowing this thing would smell like you until the next time it’d be washed. Only fueling the crush he had and taking every ounce in his body not to jump at the opportunity to tell you how down to earth you were and how much he’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let him. But instead, he could only muster out a few sentences.

“T-thanks! I won’t mind at all…and thanks for having us over, even if it was only for a little.” He laughed, watching you shake your head.

“No, it was really fun having your guys over, and umm, I invited everyone to come to my art gallery this weekend, and it would really mean a lot if you could make it, if you’re free.” You said tenderly, rubbing your hand over your opposite arm watching a smile break on his face.

He nodded, “I’m free this weekend so I’ll definitely be there.”

“Thanks! Robin has the directions and whatnot.” You spoke, nodding your head as you both stood there for a second totally forgetting that he had to go until Eddie beeped his horn.

You snapped out of your stance, instantly apologizing, “Shit, sorry! Okay, I’ll see you!’

Steve wasn’t at all prepared for your arms to wrap around his neck, hugging him closely, feeling your breath fan again his skin as he hurriedly draped his arms across your back, squeezing you tight, “Y-yeah! See you then…”

Pulling away from Steve felt difficult just as hard as it would be knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. It didn’t help that you and him didn’t get to speak as much as you’d like because you really wanted to get to know him more. To ask him about life in Hawkins and how he liked Roane so far.

It just didn’t help that you felt like you crossed a line after telling Steve that he was “pretty sweet himself.”

Was that too forward of you?

Maybe it was too corny?

Did it throw him off?

It probably did throw him off. It had to have been that. After you replied with that sad excuse of what was supposed to be a compliment, Steve started acting weird. Strolling off to the kitchen with Robin and Eddie, probably telling them all about how you sucked at flirting. Even excusing himself to the bathroom in a haste when he clearly didn’t have to use it.

For a minute, you thought that you really did blow your chances with him, but it all drifted away when you caught the smile and wave that he threw at you from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.

He looked happy, yet sad to be taking off, kinda like how you looked after needing to leave the Harrington house. You just didn’t want to get your hopes up living for something that had a small probable chance of ever coming to life. There was no telling what mood you and Steve would be feeling the next time you saw each other, and you didn’t want to jinx it before it was too late.

You just closed the door, pressing your back against the wood knowing that everything in your system was dying for the moment you and Steve would see each other next.

For now, you’d have to pad across your apartment thinking about him wherever you strayed, wishing he was following close behind like he always was. But he wasn’t.

The only trace he left behind was his scent lingering in the air and the strawberry cup that was yours, but you didn’t mind if it belonged to him now.

Truly, you were screwed, living for the hope of it all.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated 💌

a/n: chapter one is here!!! ive been working on this for a while and was actually supposed to make this series only 3 parts but i love it so much (and tumblr is laggy lately) that i wanted to split them up into more parts and ill also be opening my inbox to blurbs for what im coining "glitch universe" very soon!!! i hope you all love this chapter and stick around for the rest!! a big thanks to effie again for helping me proof-read and hyping me up through all this!!!! happy reading to all!!!!! 🍰🍓🧸

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

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