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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

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I wanna ruin our friendship (we should be lovers instead)

After losing a bet with Will about the lyrics of a Prince song, Steve has to take the kids to a new arcade a town over.

They end up having a great time and because they somehow manage not to leave him broke he takes them to dinner after, so by the time they return home, it’s pretty late at night.

Between yawns, he drops them one by one, the last being Max, who, after the trailer park was destroyed, is living in an apartment with her mom not far away from the small duplex Steve is sharing with Robin.

They are sitting in comfortable silence, music playing low on the radio when Max says,

“I need advice”

Steve raises his eyebrows, surprised she’s asking him for advice, but keeps quiet and waits for her to continue.

“Love advice” she elaborates.

At this, Steve can’t help but snort, “You know I'd love to help you Fiery but I’m probably the worst person to ask love advice.”

“Don’t be stupid Steve, you are the best person to ask. I don’t know anyone who loves as strongly as you do.”

It’s a good thing they just got to a stop because Steve could’ve swerved the car at that if they had been moving. He looks at Max but she’s looking out the window, though he can see her ears are as red as her hair right now.

He barely resists the urge to hug her and softly says, “Okay, ask me then.”

“I’m in love with Lucas”

There’s a silence and Max turns to him frowning when he doesn’t reply, he laughs softly, “I knew that. And Lucas loves you Fiery, so what’s the problem?”

She stays silent, looking out the window and hugging herself so Steve takes a guess, “You are scared of losing him?”

“I just-! What if he wants to get back together because he’s clinging to the past? What if we do and then he realizes I’ve changed and he doesn't want me anymore?!”

“Max…”

“I’m not the same person I was when we met, we were just kids! I-”

“You are still just kids” Steve interrupts her and she rolls her eyes at him,

“We were younger- whatever, the thing is……I’m scared” she finishes with a small voice.

Steve sighs, making a turn on the street to Max's apartment, as he thinks about what to say.

“Look, Lucas is a smart kid, he’s not clinging to anything, he knows you’ve changed, he’s been there the whole time and he still wants you. And I get how you feel, but it’s worth isn't it?”

They get to the apartment building and Steve just gets out of the car with her and follows her up the stairs as he keeps talking,

“Being with the person you love it’s worth taking the risk, and I know you are scared and it’s not always going to be easy. You... are not easy,” he tells her and bumps their shoulders lightly making her snort.

They are standing in the hallway outside Max’s door now, but they just stop and keep talking,

“But you are worth the trouble Max, and so is Lucas. So you’ll make it work. I know you will.”

He smiles at her and she rolls her eyes but smiles for a second after and slaps him lightly on the chest.

“Okay,” She says simply and moves to open her door but then turns and looks at him, “Why don’t you take your own advice, Steve?”

“What do you mean?” He asks confused.

And Max raises her eyebrows and looks pointedly behind her, at the door of the apartment across from hers…

Eddie’s apartment.

Fuck.

He skips the denials and the questions about how she knows out of respect for her and goes straight to the reason,

“It’s not the same,” he says and then lowers his voice as if Eddie is just behind his door listening to them, “Eddie doesn’t like me back.”

Max rolls her eyes again and Steve is starting to get worried her eyes are going to get stuck like that as he likes to tell Mike all the time.

“Of course he does. But that’s beside the point. The point was love was worth taking a chance and you’ll never know if you don’t take it, right?” she says knowingly raising her brows at him and making him feel like he’s the younger one of the two.

He huffs and then blinks, “Wait, what do you mean of course he likes me?”

“Steve how come you didn’t ask me how I knew you liked Eddie?” she asks instead of answering.

“I assumed you figured it out 'cause you are smart, observant, and mature” he answers naturally and blushes a little at Max's huge answering smile.

“That’s your answer,” she says smugly, “Ok I’m done with the heart to heart” and she turns to open her door, “Don’t be a hypocrite follow your own advice.”

“Wait! Two-second hug!” Steve warns her before he hugs her,

Max laughs and counts, “one, two, ok! Times up!” and Steve lets her go, both of them chuckling.

“Gnight Steve” she says getting inside.

“Gnight Fiery”

And then he’s left standing there in the hallway. He turns and looks at Eddie’s door as he feels it looming behind him.

Now that the hallway is quiet he can hear the faint sound of Eddie’s acoustic, and Steve melts imagining the sight of Eddie sitting there plucking at his guitar.

‘Fuck it’ he thinks, takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door.

‘fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuc-’

“Hey, Steve”

“Fuck- I mean! Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie is standing in his doorway, with his hair up in a messy bun, crop top, and sweatpants, and the light from the kitchen illuminating him from behind and making him look ethereal.

It takes Steve’s breath away.

Eddie smiles at him amused, “Sure! Fuck. What’s up, man? Everything ok?”

“Yeah! I just wanted to tell you something, can we talk?” He smiles back.

“Sure dude, please trespass,” Eddie tells him moving away from the door and making an exaggerated bow.

Steve smiles amused and wipes his sweaty palms on the back of his jeans and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“Table, couch, or counter?” Eddie asks and Steve blinks and shakes his head because there’s potential for a joke involving Eddie’s bed there but he needs to keep his head in the game.

Instead of answering Steve moves to the couch and sits leaving plenty of space for Eddie to sit too.

If Eddie thinks he’s being weird, he pays it no mind, he just shrugs and sits on the arm of the couch, knees bend and feet on the pillow, facing Steve.

Steve keeps facing forward, unable to look at Eddie as he starts talking, “Just left Max at her place, and we were talking on the way here… about- about things that were worth taking a risk for.”

He chances a glance at Eddie, who is looking at him intently with his hands placed on his knees and his chin on top of them.

It makes the back of his neck feel like fire and he scratches at it absently taking his eyes off Eddie, “Things like relationships with the person you lo-like” he says and cringes at his slip-up.

He waits for a beat, then two, and looks at Eddie when the silence extends for too long, Eddie is staring at him with a small crease on his eyebrows, “So… you knocked at my door at midnight to talk to me about… a relationship?” he asks unsure.

And Steve turns on the couch to face Eddie and nods, once.

Eddie opens his mouth and closes it, and blinks at him. “Why?”

“Because you- because I need to know if there’s even the tiniest chance you could possibly like me back, because- because you are worth taking that risk for,” Steve answers.

And Eddie sits up straight, gapes at him, eyes huge, and blinks a couple of times.

“YES!!” He suddenly screams falling forward on the couch and kneeling closer to Steve. He gasps and covers his mouth for a second before placing both of them on Steve’s hand.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to yell,” he says sheepishly and Steve smiles at him, “Steve, of course, I lolike you back,” he tells him smiling knowingly at him.

And Steve snorts, because of course Eddie wouldn't let that slip past him, “So, Eddie,” he starts, and leans closer to him, putting his free hand on top of Eddie’s, “Would you be my boyfriend?” he asks shily but Eddie sighs and says,

“I don’t know Steve, depends on how good of a kisser you are ca-” Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

He goes all out, pulls all his best tricks, determined on leaving Eddie breathless. And Eddie responds enthusiastically, the corners of his mouth pulling slightly up like he can't stop himself from smiling.

Steve places his hands on Eddie's face, and tilts it to the side, deepening the kiss and making Eddie moan when he sucks on his lower lip and pulls at it with his teeth.

Eddie moves on the couch and straddles Steve not once stopping the kiss as Steve moves his hands to Eddie’s hair, and pulls at it slightly which makes Eddie rolls his hips onto Steve, and he breaks the kiss with a gasp.

Eddie chuckles breathlessly, ”Hell yes, I knew you’d be amazing at this,” he tells him, kissing his forehead and then his nose.

And Steve scrunches it in return, “Asshole” he tells him.

“Your asshole” Eddie whispers and Steve smiles wickedly at him,

“Yeah?” he murmurs, moving his hands on Eddie’s waist lower and grabbing his ass, letting his fingers move dangerously close to the aforementioned asshole.

Eddie sucks air through his teeth and grinds on Steve again, “Oh, hell yes” he breathes before claiming his mouth again.

Max is standing in her kitchen, phone in hand, and trying to gather the courage to dial Lucas's number to ask him on a date when she hears Eddie scream a very enthusiastic ‘yes’. She snorts, ‘Guess Steve got his answer’ she thinks with a smirk before she sighs and starts dialing, there’s no way she’s gonna let Steve one up her like that.

fin

☕🥐💕 cafecito?

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #i wrote something

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pasdasin · 7 months

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Ktober day one - Size kink - Loki x reader

a/n: welcome to kinktober! enjoy ur month of fanfics lol this is made in collab with my two of my irls @fuckmachine42069 and @honeybeedrabble! sorry if this is bad lol

cw: pnv sex, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cussing, slight degradation, prob more

reader under the cut ------

Loki never felt truly loved until he met you. You knew him, witnessed his destruction, and still decided to give him a chance. He never knew that he could feel like this. Especially when you decided to take him to a remote cabin in the mountains, just the two of you. Just as friends.

God he hated that you just saw him as a friend. He means that friends don’t just share their darkest secrets, they don’t occasionally flirt, and they don’t get drunk and make out- but that was just a drunken mistake, right?

The snow fell outside the cabin the two of you shared a glass of wine you stole from Tony’s collection. He watched as you giggled at the silly card game the two of you were playing.

“OH! This is a good one” you looked up at Loki from across the couch.

“Oh?”

“Yeah… is there one physical trait you haven’t shown anyone?” Loki was taken aback by the question. Were the two of you close enough for him to show you his true self? The two of you did make out a lot, flirt, but emotionally? Were you more than friends? Could he truly trust you? Fuck it.

“I believe there is one thing…” Your eyes lit up with excitement at this revatation. “Before I show you, I need to know I can trust you.” His eyes scanned your face, praying to whoever would listen that you would say the words that he needed to hear.

“Of course you can trust me Loki.”

“No that’s not what I mean. I need you to be honest with me…”

“What are you asking me?” Your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Are you in love with me the way I am in love with you” Silence filled the air. Loki turned his back and sighed in defeat . It was so stupid of him to think you’d be in love with him. You two weren’t more than friends who kiss. He felt his arm be pulled by you, causing him to turn to face you.

“I…I’m in love with you Loki” He leaned down and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was passionate and full of the mixed emotions the two of you felt towards each other. The kiss grew more heated and the two of you moved back onto the couch. He pulled away from you, straddling your hips and effectively trapping you.

“Once I show you this. you have to be mine. remain mine.” You only nodded your head and watched in amazement as he transformed before you. His once pale skin turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was icy and cool. His eyes turned a shade of deep, blood red. His height greatly increased as well. Your eyes scanned his body, absorbing all of the new side of loki.

“Well?” He asked nervously. Your jaw dropped slightly and he slowly felt himself getting amused by your reaction. “You never seen this before?”

“Obviously not. Just… let me” Your hands dragged up and down his body, getting used to all the new bumps and scars that littered his body. His skin was impossibly cold and only turned you on more. Your hands trailed down his abs and hovered over his cock. You looked up at him and searched his face for any signs of regret.

His eyes only encouraged you further and his hands guided your own to touch him. In his frost giant form, Loki was impossibly bigger than any man you have ever been with before. His cock had barely fit in your hand and as you continued to pump him up and down, you found him to only get harder and harder. He moved to undo his pants and free his cock from his boxers. You watched as his cock sprung free and nearly hit your cheek.

“Loki,” you looked up at him, his blue skin and red eyes intimidated you, but also made you feel a new kind of excitement. “Once we start, I don’t wanna stop”

“Then what are you waiting for?” He said, gripping your hair. You licked a long stripe up his cock from the base of it to the tip. He involuntarily shuddered and pulled your hair tighter as you moved your mouth to take in his tip. Even that felt like it was a lot. You gently started to bob your head up and down his length, trying to find a satisfactory pace. Loki had other plans, deciding that he needed more. Your eyes rolled back and tears streamed down your eyes as Loki fucked your mouth, losing himself slightly.

Looking down he realized only about a third of his dick could fit in your mouth before activating your gag reflex. He reveled in the fact that his size was making you react like this. You moaned and gagged on his cock, making him groan at the vibrations. His grip tightened on your hair.

“You can’t even take all of me in your mouth and yet you're whoring yourself for me.” You only could moan in response, trying to swirl your tongue around what was in your mouth and jacking off the rest. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his orgasm.

When he was on the brink, he pulled out of you, leaving you confused.

“I’m gonna cum in that pretty little cunt if yours.” He muttered to you, as he moved you to your hands and knees.

“Loki you didn’t-“

“I’ll be gentle” He said as he started to push into your cunt. Your breath grew labored and you started to feel the painful stretch as Loki started to fill you as much as he could. You looked up past the couch and straight into the mirror that leaned against the wall. You could only moan at the sight of his 7 foot body pressing into your much smaller frame. He was like a giant trying to fit into a regular sized door.

He was anything but gentle. He barely gave you time to adjust to his size before he started pounding into you. The sheer. size of him had you feeling his cock up and into your stomach. He was rough with you, making you believe he was chasing his own pleasure. It didn’t matter when his dick rubbed and filled every inch of your cunt. You were shaking and moaning under him, feeling as though your arms were gonna give out any second.

“Look at you. You barely can fit my cock and here you are already about to cum.” He started to pound into you harder than before, making your legs shake.

“Please- please let me. I need to-“ Loki hushed you.

“Cum for me” You felt your pussy clench at his command and a wave of pleasure wash over him. Loki thrusted harder and got sloppier until he finally came inside you. He stilled inside you and panted. Slowly he disconnected himself from you and watched as his cum spilled out onto the couch.

“Are you okay?” Slowly, you turned to face him, a fucked out expression washing over you.

“We should’ve fucked sooner”

-----

day 2: titfucking - mista x reader

#kinktober #loki laufeyson #loki #frost giant loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader

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yournowheregirl · 1 year

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thank y’all for your patience for this part and as a treat it’s an extra long one and posted just in time for dolly’s birthday (today, the 19th) and my own (tomorrow, the 20th). see you around for part 6!

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 6 + complete on ao3]

part 5: baby i’m burnin’

For a just a moment as he looks into Steve’s big hazel eyes, Eddie’s entire world stands still and just two questions echo through his mind.

One: what the hell is Steve doing here?

Two: how much of that song did Steve hear and will he be able to connect the dots?

Okay, technically he has three questions but he doesn’t have time to think about any of them because the longer he’ll stay here, the longer Steve will have time to decipher the puzzle that’s lying right in front of him, right there in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie obviously can’t have that, so he stands up, drops the guitar onto the floor, pushes past Steve and heads towards the exit. He hears Pat and Tish say something, some kind of protest but it doesn’t register in his brain as he slams the door shut behind him.

It’s still coming down in buckets once he steps outside, but it still better than staying inside, to be in the same room with Steve and those damn puppy eyes of his. He jogs to his van, patting his jeans pockets in search for his keys, only to come up empty.

Fuck. The keys must still be in his leather jacket. Which he left upstairs. Inside the bar.

For a moment, Eddie contemplates just walking all the way back to Hawkins but the continuous rain pour stops him from doing yet another incredibly stupid thing. He kicks the side of the van - it already has enough dents so what’s one more? - and turns on his heel to go back inside.

Only to be once again greeted by Steve.

“Get lost, Harrington.” Eddie bites out before Steve can even get a word in. He pushes past Steve once again, not-so-accidentally bumping into him to really get the point across.

“Eddie, wait!” Steve grabs him by the wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Let. Me. Go.” Eddie’s eyes are flaming with anger as Steve nods slowly in response, fingers releasing their grip but lingering just a moment before they completely move away.

“Eddie, please, just listen to me for one second.” Steve pleads. “I came here because you didn't show up at my place tonight and I was worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?” Eddie snaps. “You should’ve thought about that before you ditched me for some fucking date. Thanks for the heads up by the way, really appreciate it.”

Eddie’s already moving back towards the bar when Steve speaks up again, annoyance written all over his voice. “I ditched you? You were the one who didn’t show up at my house in the first place!”

Is this guy for real? Does he really not see the problem of having a friend over during a first date? Eddie feels his blood boil hotter by the second, and since Steve is probably staring at him with those big doe-eyes of his, like he did nothing wrong, something inside Eddie just snaps. He whips his head around, his wet hair flinging water droplets through the air.

“Yeah, because you had a goddamn date coming over and so excuse me for not wanting to be a fuckin’ third-wheel with the guy I’m in love with!”

The silence that follows is deafening as Eddie slowly realizes what he just said.

Oh fuck.

This was not how this was supposed to go. He had a plan, he had moves, he had this whole thing figured out before Dustin dropped the bomb about Steve’s date. Then the plan changed and Eddie made a vow to never say another word about his feelings for Steve to anyone.

Until now, apparently.

“You… you’re in love with me?” Steve asks, his voice almost a whisper over the sound of the pouring rain.

There’s no use in lying at this point, Eddie’s pretty sure that his face is saying everything that Steve needs to know right now. He could deny it all he wants, but deep-down he know that Steve’ll see right through him. He always has.

Eddie nods slowly, his anger making way for embarrassment and anxiety. He looks away, his racing heart prevents him from looking Steve in the eye. His shoulder sag as he somehow finds the courage to talk again.

“Just… just go. Go be with your date or whatever. I’ll.. I’ll just back off. We don’t need to see each other if you don’t want to and- and I totally understand if you don’t wanna be friends anymore. I mean I get it, totally get it and-”

But before Eddie can finish his sentence, Steve interrupts him, suddenly standing much closer than before. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “Why not?”

“Oh my God.” Steve almost whines. “Because you were my date, Eddie!”

Wait, what? That can’t be right.

“I… no. No, we weren’t going on a date, we were having a movie night.” Eddie stammers. “A movie night that you forgot about and- and- no, this wasn’t a date.”

“Tell that to the freshly made pasta and wine I had to put in the fridge because you didn’t show up.” Steve scoffs. He runs a hand through his wet hair, then over his face, shaking off the remainder of water. “Or the dozen roses I bought to put on the table because this-” He gestures between them “-was supposed to be a date.”

The roses. Those goddamn roses that Dustin told him about, they were for him? Eddie’s mind is reeling with all this new information, unable to form a coherent thought.

“Wait, did you forget that we were going on a date?” Steve asks. He ducks his head in an attempt to force Eddie to look at him. When Eddie finally does, he’s taken aback by how soft Steve’s eyes are, how surprisingly amused he looks by all of this.

Eddie thinks back to earlier that week, when he was loitering around Family Video after his shift at the garage. He and Steve had been talking like any other day, though Eddie had been particularly flirty in that moment, teasing Steve till his face was beet-red and followed by a bright smile and a quiet ‘shut up, Eddie’.

Customers had come in then, demanding Steve’s attention. But right before he attended to them, Steve had turned around, almost looking shy.

“What are you doing on Friday?”

Eddie shrugged. “Other than contemplating my existence and overthinking all of my sins? Not much.”

“Good.” Steve had laughed. “You wanna come to my place for dinner and a movie? I’ll be making my Nana’s pasta primavera.”

“Ooh, you know how the way to my heart, Steve.” Eddie said, dramatically lying a hand over his heart. “As long as you provide the food, I’ll be there.”

Steve had beamed at him right then and there, like Eddie had personally handed him a ten-thousand dollar check. “Great! It’s a da-”

The sound of a customer repeatedly dinging the bell on the counter had interrupted the rest of his sentence and Eddie hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But now… now he knows exactly what Steve was going to say.

It’s a date.

Silence hangs heavy in the air. The downpour muffles the ringing in Eddie’s ears as he tries to wrap his head around all of this.

Steve wanted tonight to be a date.

Steve wanted to go on a date with him.

Steve likes him.

What the actual fuck.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Steve mutters. He grabs Eddie’s hands, thumbs softly running across his knuckles and it’s only then that Eddie realizes that his hands have been trembling all this time. “You wanna go back inside? The rain-”

“You… you like me.” Eddie chokes out.

“Yeah, thought that was kinda obvious at this point.” Steve laughs. “But apparently, it wasn’t so I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

Eddie shakes his head, squeezes Steve’s hands a little tighter. “No, no way. If anyone should apologize it’s me. I should’ve just called you when Dustin told me about your date and I should’ve noticed that you were asking me out and I-”

“Eddie…” Steve says softly.

One of his hands lets go of Eddie’s, only for it to move up to his face. His thumb softly brushes away the droplets of rainwater on his cheek, on his jaw, on his lips. There’s an unspoken question in Steve’s eyes, asking for permission as they wander down to Eddie’s lips, then back up again.

A simple nod from Eddie is enough to answer that silent question.

Steve’s hand comes to join the other on Eddie’s jaw, cradling his face so gently, like he’s holding a precious gemstone. The way he pulls Eddie towards him, however, is anything but gentle and Eddie almost trips over his own feet, grabbing onto Steve’s waist for balance. And despite the coolness of the rain water, Steve feels warm underneath the soaked pink fabric of his button-down.

There’s a second where Eddie thinks he sees Steve hesitating - his breathing heavy, eyes once again asking for permission, as if Eddie’s ever going to back away now. Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes and leans in, pressing his lips against Steve’s.

As far as first kisses go, Eddie has had a few. Always rough, always rushed, always dirty. Never with anyone that mattered, never with anyone that cared, never like this.

Because this isn’t anything like those other first kisses, because Steve��s kisses are soft, gentle even. It’s like he’s saying sorry over and over again against Eddie’s lips and it’s this soft gesture that somehow manages to set Eddie’s entire body on fire, burning from the inside out in the best way possible.

The rain water makes it easier for their lips to glide against one another and it instantly makes Eddie crave more. His grip on Steve’s waist tightens, making Steve gasp in response and Eddie makes good use of that split second to lick his way into Steve’s mouth.

Steve tastes like rainwater and mint and Eddie fights back a smile - he must’ve taken a breath mint before coming here, a boy scout always comes prepared after all. The taste of it, of Steve, is frankly addicting and Eddie kisses back harder, but still as slow as before, reveling at the soft sounds Steve’s making at the back of his throat.

They have to pull away for air at some point and Eddie groans in annoyance. He needs to make up for lost time and this wasn’t nearly enough, oxygen be damned.

“As romantic as this is-” Steve laughs when Eddie places kisses all over his face - his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. “-can we please go back inside? This rain is ruining my jeans.”

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Eddie grins and with a final kiss to Steve’s lips, he pulls away to go back inside and escape the rain.

-xxx-

Pat and Tish are a bit weary when Eddie walks back inside the bar with Steve in tow and even Steve’s usual charming smile doesn’t seem to deter them from glaring daggers at him.

Eddie’s heart melts a bit at their protectiveness, but he assures them that they talked things out, that things are good now. Pat nods approvingly and invites Steve to come talk to her later and even though her glare has faded, Eddie is still a little scared of her on Steve’s behalf. Tish, on the other hand, immediately squeals with joy and tries to pull both of them in a hug, only backing away when she realizes that they’re soaking wet.

“We need to get you boys some dry clothes.” Tish says.

“No, no, we’ll be on our way.” Steve shakes his head. “Don’t wanna be any trouble.”

“Nonsense. You’re one of us now.” Tish lovingly pats his cheek. “C’mon, we got plenty of clothes in the lost and found and if that fails, we always got Pat’s closet to dig around in.”

Steve looks so very confused and Eddie just laughs, head thrown back as they follow Tish back upstairs. She hands them a cardboard box filled with various clothing items that had been left in the bar over the years and directs them to Pat’s part of the closet.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Tish says, walking back to the hallway. She turns around in the doorway, a knowing smile on her lips. “Oh and by the way, these walls are pretty thin, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Okay, bye Tish!” Eddie says quickly, face turning pink at the implication of her words. He clears his throat and turns to Steve. “Sorry about her.”

“Nah, it’s alright. She’s got nothing to worry about.”

“Wow, we’re, what- ten minutes into this whole relationship crap and you’re already saying you don’t want to jump my bones?” Eddie asks, mock-offended. “Not off to a great start there, Steve.”

“Oh, I’m not saying that.” Steve cocks his head to the side, smirking. “Just saying that I’m not that easy.”

Eddie scoffs. “What? You need winin’ and dinin’ to get in the mood?”

“Certainly helps.” Steve shrugs. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that Eddie can’t quite explain. That is until he remembers what Steve had told him earlier - about the wine and the roses and the dinner in the fridge - and he suddenly feels his face heat up again. There’s a lot you can say about Steve, but he’s definitely a man with a plan.

“Anyway…” Eddie clears his throat. “Let’s find some clothes yeah?”

Lucky for them, the clothes in the lost and found box actually fit them pretty well. Sure the jeans are a bit baggier than both of their usual styles, but at least they don’t need a belt to keep it from falling off. But much to Eddie’s dismay, Steve has to take off his button-down since it’s completely drenched

That moment of dismay is short-lived because now Eddie is faced with Steve’s bare chest on full display. He’d seen it before, way back when at Lover’s Lake but he didn’t allow himself to spare Steve a second glance. Didn’t allow himself to look, but oh boy is he looking now. Even with all the scars swirling around his skin, he’s still one the most beautiful men Eddie has ever laid eyes upon. Plus, there is that chest hair that had been torturing him since the moment he spotted it peaking out of that same pink button-down.

Steve catches him staring, right when he’s about to pull on some bland white t-shirt over his head. He stops, lowers his arms and smirks at Eddie. “You do know you’re staring, right?”

“I know.” Eddie nods, smiling. “Think I’m allowed to at this point, don’t you?”

He watches as Steve lets the shirt drop to the floor and his heart speeds up when he notices that Steve is staring right back at him, dark eyes roaming up and down his body. But it’s the look that does it, that look of hunger and desire in Steve’s eyes, that sets Eddie’s insides aflame.

It’s as if Steve can read his mind, because soon as Eddie takes a step forward, Steve does as well, meeting him halfway. There’s a moment where they both just look at each other, waiting who’s going to cave in first. In the end, Eddie isn’t really sure who was the first to lean in, all he knows is that this kiss is vastly different than their first.

No longer soft and tender, the kiss is feverish and frantic with hands roaming over damp, bare skin, pulling each other flush against each other. Their first kiss made Eddie’s brain go all soft and gooey, but this kiss... This kiss makes it go static. Hyper aware of every single one of Steve’s movements, every swipe of his tongue, every bite of his teeth, every nail that digs into his skin.

Steve seems to have a similar reaction, judging by the way he’s desperately moaning when Eddie’s hands find their way into his hair and pull his head to the side for better access to his mouth.

“Be quiet.” Eddie pants against Steve’s lips. “Thin walls, remember?

Steve whines, face scrunched up in annoyance and pulls away. “Fine.”

“Aww Stevie, what’s wrong?” Eddie teases, nails scratching against Steve’s scalp. “You seem a little worked up but… didn’t you say you ain’t that easy?”

Steve’s eyes darken, his breathing heavy as he takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair. It’s literally unfair how hot he looks when doing that and Eddie just wants to pull him right back for more.

“You… you must know what you’re doing to me with that damn accent of yours.” Steve croaks. He looks flustered, even though he definitely had his tongue halfway down Eddie’s throat just moments ago and it makes the flurry of butterflies inside Eddie’s stomach grow ten sizes.

“Darlin’, I don’t know what you mean.” Eddie winks.

He hears Steve cursing under his breath as Eddie turns around to dig through the lost and found box again. All of the shirts are objectively terrible or don’t fit him at all and even though he knows he’ll just need to pick something dry to wear, he still wants to look good. He has a reputation to uphold after all.

And it’s like the universe is smiling down at him because at the very bottom of the box, Eddie finds a black button-down. A Western cut shirt, in fact, complete with contrasting red piping and embroidered roses underneath the collar.

Oh, Steve’s gonna love this.

He’s rolling up the sleeves as he turns around, only to find that Steve’s too busy looking in the mirror and messing with hair to notice him. Eddie clears his throat and Steve finally tears his eyes away from his reflection

“Well, fuck.” Steve groans once he notices what Eddie’s wearing, unable to keep his eyes off Eddie for another second.

“I believe that now it’s you who’s staring, darlin’.” Eddie smirks

“Oh, I think I’m allowed, don’t you?” Steve says, parroting Eddie’s words back to him. He closes the distance between them again, pulling Eddie by his belt loops. “We better go back downstairs.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not sure how much these walls can drown out if we stay here much longer.”

-xxx-

The bar is open once they get downstairs and Tish immediately pulls them aside and puts two plates of spicy fried chicken and cornbread in front of them.

“On the house.” Tish smiles. “It’s your first date after all.”

Right, tonight was supposed to be their first date. Eddie had almost forgot about it with all the hassle that happened earlier. But it’s clear that Steve hasn’t because he picks up their plates and redirects them to a booth in the far corner of the bar. He’s a real gentleman too, offering to let Eddie slide into the booth first, only to squeeze against him as soon as he sits down.

Eddie realizes then and there that he’s never been on a date before.

Not a real one at least, and despite his usual skepticism, it’s actually pretty nice. Now that most of the awkwardness is out of the way, the conversation flows easily, the flirting too, actually. Mostly because Steve continues to be enamored by every vaguely Southern-sounding thing that rolls off Eddie’s tongue while Eddie only pretends to be annoyed by Steve’s cheesy pick-up lines, even though he secretly loves them.

It’s…

It’s easy.

Just like Steve said all those weeks ago, when he broke up with Emily. And then again after he saw Eddie perform right there on that stage. Eddie hadn’t really believed him back then, but now… now, he’s might just start to believe it.

Believe that loving Steve is the easiest thing he’s ever done.

Eddie’s leaning against the wall, with Steve nestled in between his legs when he hears it. A familiar beat, followed by some piano and brass instruments. He immediately pushes Steve out of the booth, scrambles to the feet and pulls Steve towards the dance floor.

“Wha- what is happening?” Steve stammers.

“You look at me that way. I know what your eyes say, your eyes reflect love and desire.” Eddie sings along, a bright smile plastered onto his face. “I see that you need me, I need you to please me. You touch me and set me on fire.”

He pulls Steve closer to him, swaying his hips along to the music. It takes a second for Steve to get the memo but then he’s slinging his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and beaming right back at him.

“I cannot resist you, each time I kiss you, then everything goes up in flames.”

Now Eddie’s not much of a dancer but he can move his hips alright and the sweet sounds of this particular Dolly Parton song will get him moving any day of the week. And the same goes for Steve so it seems, as the smile on his face doesn’t fade once.

In fact, only grows larger and larger when Eddie grabs his hand and spins him around, his head thrown back with joyous laughter when he falls back into Eddie’s arms.

“Baby, I’m burnin’, out of control. Baby I’m burnin’, body and soul. Hot as a pistol that’s flaming desire, baby, I’m burning you got me on fire.”

Steve suddenly changes course, one hand snaking around Eddie’s waist, while the other is holding Eddie’s hand tightly. Before Eddie knows what’s happening, Steve dips him, actually dips him like some professionally trained dancer, to the beat of the song.

“Where’d you learn that?” Eddie pants as Steve is still holding him in place.

“What, you thought you were the only one with a secret past?” Steve asks smugly

Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to answer the question because Steve’s lips are back on him in a split second. Not that Eddie minds of course. He could stay like this for hours, safely wrapped in Steve’s arms, feeling warm all over as their lips move in sync against each other.

“Baby I’m burnin’, you got me on fire…”

Eddie’s outfit is inspired by this amazing fanart by themdelakrem!

tag list: @cheatghost @henderdads @unclewaynemunson @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @legitcookie @gothbat99 @fandomcartographer @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @this-earlobe-is-naked @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinsthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @starrystevie @magipemuseum @mightbeasleep @corrodedcoughin @linkydinky06 @hardboiledeggs @gamerdano @limpingpenguin @blackpanzy @piningapple @teelagurl558 @theokatz @moonlightmirrorball @milf-harrington @raisedbylibrarians @eddiemunsonswife @catateme9 @stranger-poets-society @munsonsduchess @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @uwujinniee @bejeweledbaby @hardboiledleggs @hamiltonsteele @edgelordesworld @quickenedheartbeat @episcogoth @purplepluviophile @bornonthesavage @ninjapirateunicorns @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @medolie71 @knitsforthetrail @dilutedpondwater @he-she-steveharrington @plasticcrotches @smallspaceplant @mandalynn @m-owo-n @ceaselessly-watching @aralana765 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @occasionalartthings @lucasrightarm @punctualhowell @sultrypickle @spicemallow @platinum-sunset @batxsignalsx @lovelyscot @sillysparrow @freyaforestafay @im-justatrashcan @airiervessel

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie dolly parton fic tag #EVERYONE SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOLLY 💛💛💛#only one more part after this!

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vipersproperty · 8 months

Note

PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE A KISS DRABBLE WITH POMFAIRY??

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞?

Summary: you dreamt of having her lips on yours, finding the right time and place to confess your love! Oh- but you missed a step out of eagerness…”can I kiss you?” Reactions of Fem!pomefiore cast.

Featuring the following - residents of Pomefiore

|| Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia ||

Vil is relieved

“Can I kiss you?”

Vil’s sharp eyes are on you in an instant, making your skin crawl as she stops with whatever she was doing.

The deadly silence made you breath unevenly by how awkward it became now. Turning your gaze to the floor or anywhere around the room to stray from her stare. You’re almost a stuttering mess as you try to come up with an excuse to leave. You’d drown out your embarrassment as soon as you stepped out of the studio.

Vil raises a hand in motion for you to silence your jittering, your shoulders are tense as the sound of her chair scooting back allows sweat to cling on your skin. Staring back at Vil felt forbidden enough, you almost felt stupid for asking such a question.

“I’m sorry, that came out of nowhere. I should go…!”

You didn’t even notice how close she was until both of your noses were bumping into one another, causing a small squeak and recoil. Her perfume is intoxicating as she squints at you in a mocking-like manner.

“Kiss me, do you hear yourself correctly? But by the looks of it you aren’t kidding around.”

Thickly swallowing, Vil’s freshly manicured hands trails around your cheek. You gawk at her purple colored lips in anticipation, she tuts at you gently before smashing your cheeks together to further plump out your lips.

“Besides that fact your devious streaks are one to watch out, I’m happy you feel the same.”

Before you can let out a startled huh, her lips are on yours. It’s prepped in a long sense of relief, taking her time to stain her lipstick all over your face as you shut your eyes.

“Wash up now, don’t want any cameras seeing this. However, we can continue after my appointment.”

“Yes, ma’am..”

Rook is excited

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oui!”

Without warning, Rook is quick to grasp your figure into her arms. The hunter has her lips attacking your poor, defenseless face. Crying out a whine as you wiggle around, noticing that she wasn’t kissing your lips!!

“Rook!”

“Yes, yes, be patient my dear.”

She coos into your ear, you shiver at how her hot breath fanned over the lobe. You know she can’t be talking about patient when she’s basically smothering you to death.

Rook let’s put a longing sigh, tsking her teeth as she holds your face in her hands. A regrettable look on her face as she gives you puppy eyes. You aren’t sure if this is an attempt to further fluster you. It’s working. A little too good. The two of you were supposed to watch a film, but with Rook’s eager response she had her legs wrapped around your waist in a sitting position so that way you’re properly facing her.

“Ma douce trickster. For years I’ve waited for this day, this opportunity! To have you in my arms, I must contain the beast inside of me and fulfill your needs…”

Ok, a little dramatic but that’s the reason you fell for her. Her speech made your cheeks hurt from how wide you were grinning, what a dorky line.

There’s a low and almost sultry like gaze in her as she pulls you closer for a proper kiss. You hum lightly into her, your hands are on her sides as it deepens. The romantic music as if on cue—turns on.

Great idea for putting the mood, but the two of you part ways in an attempt to look at one another, because it was real. Your eyes wouldn’t device you of returning your kiss to your lovely hunter.

Epel is bluffing

“Can I kiss you.”

“Are you serious?”

Epel doesn’t think before responding, a questioning look on her face as you shrug.

“Dunno, am I?”

You smirk at the way her body tensed, fists clenching as she slightly stomps her heel to the ground and turns to face you. Crossing her arms there’s a fueled look on her face.

“Hah! Nice try, [Name]. But you’re gonna have to do better than that to fluster me! I’ve had many men and women be in the same position as you, you don’t scare me—!”

“Then kiss me.”

The strands of her hair spikes up at your interruption, her lips pulled back after realizing her attempt at embarrassing you didn’t work. You give her a look saying she didn’t have the guts to do it, is Epel really gonna deny a thing, not that you’d be angry at.

But the clicks of her heels tells you she’s at your face, having to tilt your head lower so she can see the amused expression on your face. Epel’s breaths hitch in a grunt, biting her own tongue as she flares up at you in a challenge. She pulls at the hem of your shirt so she can reach, you made it easier by bending your knees a bit. But that caused her to throw her head to the side after the warmth of your breath, her face as red as an apple.

“Hey, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna. I’m just teasing you.”

Your voice is gentle, so gentle that she has steam coming from her ears. Thank the sevens she swallowed her pride and anxiety, smashing her face against yours.

It was….a kiss somewhat, both of your foreheads did most of the kissing tho. Epel whines in pain before rubbing her head, she flares up at your laughing fit and points at you accusingly.

“T-that was barely a kiss, you owe me another one, that was so intentional on your part! Clearly you’re the scared one.”

Oh boy.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 8)

6.7k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming and double standards, horrible reporters being horrible, pining, finally some fluff!!!

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far, and has some of my favorite scenes I've ever written!! My heart is HAPPY!!

Series Masterlist

I understood; I understood completely.

Ted Lasso was warm, and kind, and fun. He looked at a person like they mattered and listened with genuine interest. He made you feel like he’d have your back and believed in you.

Ted Lasso was exactly what I needed.

After chatting over drinks about our backgrounds and careers, delving into our shared deep love for sports and coaching, he finally broached the subject that had been plaguing me nonstop for what felt like an eternity.

“So. How’re you doing? With all this… hullabaloo?”

He was too kind and polite to even name the hell I was living in.

A grimace crossed my face as I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to delay answering the question for as long as possible while those patient eyes gazed at me. Finally, I had no choice but to fill the silence. “I am… okay,” I finally mumbled. “Trying to just focus on the team, you know?”

Ted nodded, watching me carefully. “I completely understand,” he hummed. “Well, I mean, not completely of course. It’s mighty unfair the way they talk about you. But…” He shrugged, giving a small pop with his mouth. “I mean, they weren’t exactly nice to me when I got here. The press, the team, hell, even Becca.” His face softened at those last couple of words. “But, eyes on the prize, as they say.” He patted my hand gently, a paternal touch I didn’t realize I needed. “Now, like I said, I don’t totally understand what you’re going through. But if you need someone who has some small idea, well, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Ted,” I murmured. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to glance around the pub. “Anytime, Clementine.”

After a moment, I opened my mouth again. “I’ve just waited my whole life for this. To be a role model, more than a pretty face that runs fast. Sometimes that’s all I felt like back when I played. And being a coach, well everything depends on my brain, you know?” Ted’s understanding nod urged me on. “And I was finally doing it. I was winning, and because England actually gives some semblance of a crap about soccer, people started to know who I was. And then…” A big breath left my lungs. “And then this… thing happens, and it’s like nothing else matters. Olympic medals, World Cups, national titles, win streaks. Nope. Everyone thinks I’m just another Roy Kent girl.”

“You’re not just another Roy Kent girl,” Ted assured me. “It might feel like it, whatever that means, but you’re not. You’re Coach Buck, for Pete’s sake.” His smile warmed all the cold parts of my heart that had developed since Keeley first showed me the photos. “And it might feel like everyone thinks so, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not true.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the freckle-faced kid who took up his lock screen. “My boy has not stopped asking about you since I got here. Kid thinks you’re the absolute bee’s knees, Coach. He doesn’t care about these stupid headlines or what you do off the field. Heck, he even told me I should ask you for some coaching pointers.”

Beer nearly shot out of my nose as I let out a thankful laugh. “Ted Lasso, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“Sure, I do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Sometimes, ya just need a reminder about why we do what we do. To inspire other people to be their best selves.” He nodded towards his phone before pocketing it. “And you sure as heck inspire this kid. And I’m willing to bet he ain’t the only one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “You know… If you want, we could Facetime him while you’re here. If you think he’d like that, I mean.”

Lasso’s smile lit up the whole pub. “He’d love that, Coach.”

“Hey, Coach. Ready for that chat?”

A growl escaped Roy’s throat as Ted entered the empty office. “No,” he huffed, turning his attention back to the playbook on his desk.

Ignoring Roy’s scowl, not for the first time since they’d met, Ted plopped himself down on Beard’s desk, eyebrows raised. “I know what you need,” he announced, leaning over to grab the phone off Roy’s desk. “Better get some bones and treats, because I’m calling the Diamond Dogs.”

Before Roy could protest, Ted had called Higgins and texted Nate and Beard; almost instantly the office was filled with the sounds of howling and barking that Roy was sure anyone who was still in the building could hear. The men assembled, closing doors and perching themselves in chairs and against walls, eyes expectantly trained on Roy, as if they already knew the reason for this meeting.

When Roy glared at Ted, the American knew he’d have to get the ball rolling.

“Diamond Dogs,” he announced, “as y’all know, our favorite junkyard dog here has been goin’ through somethin’. I bet he could use some friendly ears to bark at.” He nodded to Roy. “Coach?”

There was no getting out of this. Roy knew that. So, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah.” He turned his chair and plopped his feet on his desk, trying to keep up his uncaring demeanor. “You all fucking know. Fucking photos, fucking paparazzi and reporters, blah blah blah.” He nodded to Ted, whose face was stupidly supportive. “There. Done.”

Nate cleared his throat. “What about you and Coach Buck?”

It was probably the harshest scowl Roy had given in a long time. “What about me and Coach Buck?” His chest felt tight just saying her name out loud.

“Well…” Nate’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I mean, the two of you were getting kind of close, weren’t you? Before all this happened?” He seemed to shrink slightly under Roy’s glare. “Weren’t you?”

“We’re not close,” Roy spat. “So, dunno what there is to talk about.”

Beard sighed and narrowed his eyes at Roy. “How about we talk about how unhappy you’ve been ever since this all went down? How about we talk about the fact that you slept with her- don’t make that face at me, neither of you have denied it- and now you both look like the most miserable people in the world? Let’s talk about that.”

Before Roy could argue, Higgins cleared his throat. “Roy, have you tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?”

Was there a way to renounce his membership from the fucking Diamond Dogs? “As a matter of fact, we have talked. And she wants nothing to do with me. So, again, what’s the point in any of this?”

Ted cleared his throat. “If I may, Coach, it sure didn’t look like she wanted nothing to do with ya when I saw y’all in the parking lot.” His face was soft. “She seemed pretty grateful for your help, actually. Did everything but call you her knight in shining armor when she told me about that paparazzo.”

Roy rolled his eyes, hating the blush on his face for betraying him. “Yeah, well, that’s about all I’m good for probably.” He stared at his shoes for a moment, scrunching his nose. “Just hate seeing her so fucking miserable,” he heard himself admit quietly. “It’s not really fair, this shit. All that ‘takes two to tango’ shit, but no one’s saying a word about me. It’s stupid as hell.” Dammit, he was ranting now. “And I just want to fucking fix everything but I can’t.”

“You could be her friend,” Ted said quietly. “It sounds like she could really use more of those right now.” He cleared his throat. “You know, I told her all about how Henry just really admires her- heck, I think there might be a little crush there too- and let me tell you, she looked so relieved to hear that. We actually FaceTimed him earlier today before he went to school, and man she was almost as jazzed as he was.” Ted shrugged.

Higgins nodded. “I think she just needs to feel supported and respected right now.” He cocked his head at Roy. “Just give her that, Roy. The rest will follow.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘the rest’-?”

The sound of a door opening had the men jumping. Through the window, Roy could see Buck stroll into her office, sipping her water bottle and looking at something on her phone. She froze, as if she could feel the eyes of the Diamond Dogs on her. She blinked several times when she looked up and saw the Greyhounds office filled with men staring. With her eyes on Roy, she gave a small, awkward wave before sitting at her desk and turning to her computer.

Ted smiled at Roy. “Diamond Dogs, dismissed.”

With soft barks and yaps, the men dispersed, ready to call it a day and go home. Roy sat at his desk, staring through that window, watching her type away. He thought about what they’d said; for some reason, he felt struck by Ted’s mention of Henry. Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy stood and approached the door that separated their offices. He opened it softly, raising his eyebrows when she turned around to look at him.

“Knock, knock,” he mumbled stupidly.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Roy would take what he could get. “Hey, Coach.” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck was all that barking?”

“Barking? What barking?” Roy entered the office and perched on Lucas’s desk, feigning ignorance as he stared at the too-pretty manager.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she chuckled with an eyeroll. “Need something? I’m just trying to finish a couple emails before I head out.”

Roy studied her face for a moment. His gaze briefly flickered to her Brandi Chastain poster before returning to those eyes that made his insides squirm. “Would you want to come meet Phoebe’s football team?”

She blinked a few times. “Phoebe’s team?” she echoed.

He nodded, feeling good about himself for once. “Yeah. She asked me a while ago about inviting you, hasn’t shut up about you since the charity game actually.” He shrugged. “I think it’d be… fun.”

The hesitation in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Oh, I don’t know, Roy…” She bit her lip. “What if the parents don’t like me being there?”

Fuck, her voice was tiny. “If they don’t like the idea of a fucking Olympic champion watching their daughter’s football practice, they can deal with me,” he huffed. “What d’you say? Want to make me the coolest uncle in the world?”

“Well, in that case.” A genuine little smile graced her face. “Alright. Fine. I’m there.”

Leaving the Dog Track to go meet Roy and the girls’ team, I felt that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety, the kind I got before games, or before an important meeting. It was a good feeling; I hadn’t had it in a while. My phone vibrating interrupted my reflecting on why this practice had me so wound-up.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” I could hear Geroge’s smile through the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to see if you’d want to grab dinner tonight?”

I cleared my throat as I started my walk towards the address Roy had given me. “Oh, sorry, not tonight, George. I’ve got plans.”

The disappointment in his voice was kind of sweet. “No problem. Anything exciting?”

Why did I feel weird telling him?

“Kent invited me to come meet his niece’s team,” I explained slowly. “So I’m heading on over to the school to go see their practice, say hello to the girls. Should be fun.” I tried to keep my voice light and casual, as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Goerge was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s lovely of you.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky though? Being out like that? Someone might see the two of you, take some pictures…”

I passed a Whippets advertisement, one that had yet to be graffitied. “I mean, it’s a kids’ soccer practice. I doubt the press’ll be there,” I pointed out with a huffy chuckle. “And honestly, I don’t really care if anyone sees. What can they say about me visiting a girls’ team that they didn’t already say about me going into Roy Kent’s house?”

Another silence came, the same one that usually followed references to the fact that I’d slept with Roy; I hadn’t directly told George that I had, he hadn’t directly asked, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was clearly not something George liked thinking about, and it was something I did my best to avoid bringing up. But for some reason, it slipped out now.

“Well,” he finally murmured. “I think you’ll have a good time. Should be a fun little evening with the kids… and Kent.” He paused. “Call me later?”

“Sure,” I hummed, hating the sinking feeling that I’d done something wrong. “Talk to you later.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and continued my walk, trying to ignore whatever that phone call was and focus instead on the evening ahead of me.

When I finally arrived at the school field, I realized my heart was hammering. It was kind of ridiculous; I’d done school visits and things like that. I’d spoken in front of crowds of students and young athletes. But for some reason, visiting one little girls’ soccer team had me feeling the way I did before stepping onto the field for the World Cup: anxious, unable to breathe.

But a high-pitched squeal immediately brought a smile to my face.

“Coach Buck!”

With a small wave, I approached the group of girls that were passing and warming up; immediately, I was tackled by a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Pheobe,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “How’ve you been?”

She beamed up at me. “Good! I’m so glad you came. I’ve been asking and asking Uncle Roy to invite you. And-”

“And she’s fucking here, ain’t she?” Roy wrapped an arm around Phoebe and shoved her aside. “Go warm up, you.” As Phoebe scampered away, he nodded to me. “Coach.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Coach.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly the picture of nervousness. “Right. So, I was thinking, I’d introduce you to the team, you could say a few words if you want, and maybe you could help run training? Unless you’d rather just watch. Either way’s fine with me.”

“I’d love to help.”

His face turned relieved. “Great.” He turned towards the group of girls, who were more interested in us than in their warmup. “Oi! Huddle up!” As soon as the girls were gathered around, Roy nodded curtly at me. “This here’s Coach Buck. She manages the Richmond Whippets. And, in case Phoebe here hasn’t already told you, she’s a World Cup champion and has an Olympic gold medal.” The excited buzzing from the girls had me fighting a smile- and it looked like Roy was fighting one too. “She wanted to come say hello to you all and help with practice. Sound good?”

“Yes, Coach!”

Roy raised an eyebrow at me. “Coach?”

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, willing myself to gaze at the little faces staring back with solemn expressions of excitement and awe. “Hello, ladies,” I greeted, putting on my best smile. “Roy- Coach Kent- has told me that you are probably the best team he coaches.” Their little giggles began to put me at ease. “And I am so excited to get to hang out with you today and see what you’ve got!”

The next hour was the best one I’d had since I moved to England- probably one of the best hours of my entire life. The girls were more than talented- they were enthusiastic, fierce, passionate, determined, fearless, everything I remembered being at their age. They played as if there was no such thing as losing or getting hurt. Every mistake was an opportunity to get better, every success was meant to be exceeded. By the end of practice, I knew every girl’s name and felt a tug in my heart when they called me “Coach”.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe hummed as he gathered the team at the end of practice. “Can we try to get past you?”

Roy glanced in my direction before shrugging. “You girls really want to play?”

The resounding YES had me wondering what ‘getting past’ Roy meant. As if she could sense my curiosity, Phoebe tugged my hand.

“You’re going to love this, Coach Buck,” she gushed. “It’s our favorite!”

The girls lined up, bouncing with excitement, while Roy grabbed a ball and jogged towards one of the goals made of a couple of cones. With the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times, he rolled the ball to Kokoruda, who was first in line. She immediately began dribbling towards Roy and made a respectable attempt to score on the experienced player.

“Next!” he barked after kicking the ball out of bounds.

One by one, the girls tried to score on Roy; and each one failed.

“You don’t go easy on them?” I probed as I trotted over to Roy to return another ball to him.

He caught the ball with ease. “Fuck no,” he chuckled. “Their opponents won’t ever go easy on ‘em, will they? Why should I?”

Before I could concede that he had a point, Phoebe called out, “Coach Bucky! You should try!”

With a smirk, Roy tossed the ball back to me. “Yeah, Coach Bucky. You should try.”

Maybe it was being around the girls, maybe it was the cockiness on Roy Kent’s face. Maybe it was something else. “Fine, I’ll try,” I shot back, taking my place at the front of the line. I looked at the girls. “Any of you ever get it past him?” When they all shook their heads, my grin grew. “Well, guess he’s due for a loss then.”

I stood with my foot on top of the ball for a moment, just staring down Roy Kent. He narrowed his eyes playfully, a smile almost breaking through his serious glare. With a deep breath, I began dribbling, wondering when I had last just played like this. Roy jogged out to meet me, expertly trying to get the ball out of my control. We moved this way, that way; I was a bit surprised how well I was doing against him, if I was being honest.

“Not going easy on me, are you Kent?” I huffed, very aware of the way his body pressed against mine as he tried to steal the ball from behind me.

“Not a fucking chance,” he assured me, his breath tickling my neck.

With what I hoped was a casual chuckle, I found my opening, evading Roy and making my way towards the goal, a smaller target than I was used to. As I inched forward, I felt a pair of hands brush my sides, warm and playful.

Phoebe’s giggling voice interrupted the reeling in my head. “Uncle Roy, that’s a foul!”

“Right!” came a gruff voice behind me, laughing as the hands disappeared.

Able to return my focus to the ball at my feet, I sprinted forward, ankle be damned, and broke away from Roy; the ball sailed between the cones with ease, giving me that old, thrilling feeling of scoring a goal. When I turned around, the girls were cheering- and Roy was smiling at me.

“My knee’s fucked,” he huffed jokingly between breaths, hands on his hips as he approached. “That was hardly fair.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as we started to walk back towards the team. “Oh, and what would you call my ankle?”

His smile widened. “Also fucked.”

Before I could snark back, the girls tackled me with hugs and shouts, clearly impressed that anyone could get past their burly coach. Roy eyed me over their heads, his face soft, reminding me of the night of the gala. All I could do was grin back at him, wondering if he felt the same warmth in his chest that I felt.

Roy dismissed his team, reminding them about their upcoming game, one they begged me to come watch. To my shock, a few parents stopped me to shake my hand and ask if they could get a picture of me with their daughter; that warm feeling in my chest grew with each “My daughter adores you!” or “It’s so cool that you came!” The whole time, Roy and Phoebe collected the equipment, with Phoebe watching me with great interest.

As the last of the girls left, I meandered over to the coach and his niece, stopping when I found myself looking into those brown eyes.

“Thanks, Kent,” I said, wondering if he could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “This… this was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes sparkled. “What, a bunch of little girls worshipping you?”

A snort escaped when I tried to hold back my laughter. “They didn’t worship-”

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, giving me a soft punch in the arm. “They fucking adored you. You’re their queen or some shit. Seriously-” He bobbled his head playfully. “-they’re probably planning a coup to get rid of me so you can be their coach.” He pointed to Pheobe, who was hovering nearby, obviously anxious to interrupt our conversation. “And that little traitor will be leading the fucking cavalry.” He waved her over. “Come say goodnight, Phoebe.”

Phoebe wrapped her arms around me, giving a squeeze. “Thank you for coming,” she gushed before letting go. “You know I have your poster in my room?” Her smile was full of pride. “I told Uncle Roy I wanted one, so he got one for me. It’s right above my dresser, so I can see it when I get ready for football.”

My jaw dropped slightly as my gaze shifted between Phoebe and Roy, who shrugged at me. Before I could think of something to say, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pheebs,” he started, eyes fixated on me. “You score in our next match, I’ll take you to see the Whippets, and we can ask very nicely if Coach Buck here will sign your poster.”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw the delight on Phoebe’s face. “Yeah,” I managed to choke out as I blinked back tears. “I could do that.”

There was a dull ache in Roy’s knee when he arrived at the Dog Track early the next morning, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sharp pain in his chest that seemed to be slowly disappearing. He figured he’d pop into the treatment room, grab some ice and baby his knee before getting ready for training.

When he walked through the door, he realized he wasn’t the only one that needed some tending to.

There she was, leg propped up on a chair, ice on her ankle as she scrolled on her phone. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and her face broke into one of those perfect smiles when she saw it was Roy. Without a word, they both started chuckling, almost relieved to see that the other had also overdone it the night before.

“Guess you meant it when you said you weren’t going easy on me,” she mused, watching Roy grab himself an ice pack.

He chuckled and rolled up his trackpants to expose his knee, flinching slightly as the cold touched his bare skin. “You’d fucking kill me if I did,” he pointed out. “It’d be fucking insulting.” After a moment of silence, staring at each other’s injuries, Roy opened his mouth again. “I’ll be at your game tonight,” he murmured, hoping he sounded casual.

Instead of the surprised look he expected, he swore he saw pleasure on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes linger on her face. “I know the guys’ve been trying to go to as many matches as possible to show their support. Told Sam and Jamie I’d be joining them tonight. Richmond til we die, right?”

“Richmond til we die,” she repeated, her soft smile nearly stopping Roy’s heart.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the door opening again. Rebecca stood with her hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised at the sight of her two managers grinning at each other and icing their injuries.

“Good morning, coaches,” she greeted in a light voice, eyebrows raising slightly higher when she locked eyes with Roy before turning to the Whippets manager. “Just wanted to check in, I know you’ve got a long day. Match is at six, I believe some of the Greyhounds will be there again-”

Roy couldn’t resist piping up. “We will be.”

Rebecca didn’t bother hiding her smile as she went on. “After the match, Keeley will take Lucas to the press room, and you and I can-”

This time, the other manager interrupted her. “No.”

“No?” Rebecca blinked.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, sitting up and tossing her ice pack aside. “This is my team, right? I’m doing the press conference. Luke has covered for me long enough.”

Rebecca tilted her head sympathetically. “Are you sure?”

For a moment, those eyes turned to Roy, silently asking for his thoughts, as though his opinion mattered to her. When he gave her the tiniest, almost unnoticeable nod, she looked back at Rebecca, head held high. “Hell yeah.”

Roy had chosen the right match to come to, he realized. A 4-0 win to move into first place had him grinning with the Greyhounds as they cheered on the Whippets before they disappeared back into the tunnel. For a moment, he locked eyes with Buck, who tapped her fingers to her temple, giving Roy’s signature little salute. He saluted back, ignoring the grin on Jamie’s face. Maybe, just maybe, the two managers could grab a drink together to celebrate her win. Roy’s treat, of course. She’d more than earned it.

But first, she had a press conference to give. The Whippets and Greyhounds, intent on celebrating together, assembled in the weight room and gathered around the televisions on the wall. Roy stood right in front, Jamie by his side, eyes glued to the screen as she took her seat, red lips curled into a perfect smile.

Initially, the questions were typical post-match queries: how did she feel about the performance, what did she have to say about this error, how thrilling was that goal. And she handled them all with ease, reminding Roy of that first press conference he’d watched, where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. But now, instead of a scowl, he almost wore a smile watching her, and he finally understood why his heart was hammering so hard. Yeah, this was good. She was good.

Until the questions weren’t good.

“Roy Kent was in the stands today,” one reporter called out. “Any thoughts on that?”

Her smile faltered as her eyes shifted away from the crowd in front of her. “Oh. Yes, the Greyhounds have been great in showing their support for the Whippets.” Her smile returned, though not as confident as before. “We’re overdue to cheer them on, so keep an eye out for us at their next match!”

Another question came at her. “What is your relationship with Roy now?”

She cleared her throat. “All the coaches here at Richmond have a great respect and fondness for one another. We’re lucky to have two great staffs that work together so well. It’s how we get wins like the one we had today, on both the men’s and women’s sides.”

Roy felt his face burn, along with several pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t care that she avoided the question; it was the same non-answer Keeley had given him to spout out whenever he got asked the same thing. It was the way the question came out, accusatory and aggressive, that had him frowning.

“Does your dominant personality play a role in your relationship with Roy Kent?”

There was no denying the way she scrunched her nose, fully understanding the implication. “Again, all of us coaches hold each other in high regard and have great professional relationships. Now, if you want to talk dominance, out there on the field today, Kira-”

“Speaking of Kira Malone,” a gruff voice interrupted. “She was recently seen at a pub with Jamie Tartt. Do you think your affair with Roy Kent has made the Whippets think it’s okay to run around with the Greyhounds? Is that professional?”

She began sputtering for the first time. “I would hardly call it an affair- But honestly, they’re adults, they’re professionals, I honestly-”

“And you were spotted with Ted Lasso recently,” another voice called out. “Can we assume you’ve moved on from Roy Kent?”

Her eyes widened, but she tried to recover her cool. “Coach Lasso’s a great coach. I-”

A harsh laugh rang out of the speakers. “Yeah, what does Kent think of your relationship with his ex-manager?”

Roy took a step towards the door; he knew that running into that press room would make things worse, would be a headline every paper would be running in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck. His whole body was burning with fury as he listened to them challenge and fucking laugh at her.

A hand clasped his shoulder; Jamie was shaking his head, eyes full of sympathy, as if he too wanted to rush in and rescue her. But they both knew that she needed to do this on her own.

“Oi, is Roy why you always wear that red lipstick? Should we expect to see it on his collar sometime?”

She looked small, so impossibly small, not at all like the woman Roy had been fighting with and falling for all these months. Her defiance disappeared under their demeaning questions, her fierceness was stolen by their laughter, her cockiness was stifled by their mockery.

“What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the girls of Richmond? Sleeping with Roy Kent and all?”

That seemed to be the question that knocked the fight out of her.

“Oh, fuck this,” Roy growled, tugging out his phone. He quickly typed six little words, the first text message he’d ever sent her.

Don’t you fucking dare play nice.

Her eyes flickered to her phone, eyebrows raising; Roy knew she’d gotten his message. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting them continue to shout and shame her. Finally, she sat up tall, jaw set, and stared down the crowd in front of her.

“You know what?” she asked, her voice low and gravely. “Fuck these questions you keep asking me.” Roy was sure he heard Keeley squeak on the television. “You’re not asking Roy Kent these questions. You’re not asking if he’s a good role model. You’re not questioning his ability to manage his team.” She shook her head. “What message am I sending to young girls? Really? How about what message are you sending?”

Roy was sure it was Kira Malone’s voice behind him calling out, “Fuck yeah, Buck!”

She sat up taller now. “I am a fucking Olympian. I am a champion coach. I have won more titles and trophies and medals than this entire building combined.”

“Tell ‘em, Coach!” Jamie laughed, nodding up at her face onscreen.

Roy’s mind wandered, of all places, to his niece. To the way she adored that loud, abrasive woman, a woman who was standing up for girls like Phoebe. A lump formed in his throat as he listened; fuck, he might actually fucking cry. And he didn’t care if the Greyhounds saw the tears in his eyes. He didn’t even care about the way Jamie was staring at him; he was too enraptured by the scene unfolding on the television.

“I chose to sleep with a nice man one time, and suddenly all my accomplishments don’t matter? Who cares about Olympic gold when you’ve gone to bed with Roy Kent? What defines me is who I go home with? What message is that for the daughters of Richmond? You’re telling your girls that their accomplishments and dreams are nothing compared with what they do in the bedroom. No.” Her eyes were hard and steely as she shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m done. If I wanted to go and sleep with Roy Kent tonight, that’s my own damn business. If I wanted to sleep with any other man, or woman, or whoever, that’s my business.”

Shouts of agreement echoed through the weight room, from both Whippets and Greyhounds. A smile crept across Roy’s lips; fuck, she was incredible. If he wasn’t in love before, he definitely was now.

“What example am I setting for the girls of Richmond?” she asked with a dry laugh. “Not letting jackasses like you question our worth because of a man. That’s the example I’m setting. So if you’re here to ask about my sex life, you can fuck right off. It’s not up for debate, not anymore. It’s not what we’re talking about, now or ever. What I’m here to talk about is the fact that the Whippets are in first place and are expected to finish in the top three in our first damn season. How about you ask me about that?”

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I stood up, only vaguely registering the female reporters and handful of men who also stood, clapping and calling out words of support. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the press room, not bothering to look at Keeley and Rebecca; I’d apologize to them later. I’d do whatever Keeley needed me to do to spin this. I’d offer to do whatever public appearances Rebecca demanded.

But first, I needed to get to my office to hyperventilate in peace.

As my feet did their job, carrying me down the halls, I became aware of the sound of… clapping? Cheering?

When I turned the last corner that would take me to the changing room, I finally stopped in my tracks.

Lining the hall were both Richmond teams, a beautiful jumble of smiles and applause and cheers, all watching me with affection. Suddenly, I found myself smothered with hugs and kisses and handshakes. Kira held me close, whispering in my ear about how proud she was to play for me; Jamie Tartt kissed my forehead and called me a bad-ass; over and over, Greyhounds and Whippets embraced me and offered their love and support.

By the time I reached the locker room, tears were freely streaming down my face, releasing all the emotion I’d been holding back in the press room; hell, all the emotion I’d been holding back since Keeley first showed me the photos of me and Roy.

The Greyhounds coaches stood in front of the locker room, pride shining on their faces. Beard and Nate each held me tight, murmuring about how amazed they were. Finally, Roy stood in front of me, his eyes watery as he gazed down at me.

“Welcome back, Coach,” he hummed, sticking out his hand.

I grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, unable to hold back my tearful smile. “Good to be back, Coach,” I murmured. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “And thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head softly. “Anytime.”

A pair of arms wrapped around me; Lucas was hugging me, tighter than anyone else had. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out, crying almost as hard as I was. “So fucking proud, kid.”

With one last look at Roy, I let Lucas steer me into our office, listening to him chatter about how much he loved my little speech. I collapsed in my chair and laughed, from disbelief that I had just done that. My phone went off; George.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, wiping my face. “Did ya see me?”

“What the hell, Buck?” he hissed. “You just made things so much harder on yourself. They’re not going to forgive you for this. They’re not going to like you after this. Trust me, I know these people.”

When Lucas saw the way my face fell, he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, figuring I needed some privacy.

I hunched over my desk and clutched my phone to my face. “To be honest, George, I don’t think I care if they like me. They don’t respect me, so why do I care if they think I’m nice?” I shook my head. “I’m proud of myself, actually. And so is my team. And so are the Greyhounds.” And so is Roy Kent, a little voice in the back of my head whispered.

He paused. “It was good,” he sighed. “You sounded great. Honestly, it was a great ‘girl power’ moment.” There was another moment of quiet on his end before his voice turned thoughtful. “You know, I bet we could do a great article about this. Give your side of things, talk all about the slut-shaming and double standards-”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said?” I scoffed, sensing someone approaching my office. “I’m fucking done talking about this. I’m not answering questions about this, ever again. Everyone knows I had sex with Roy Kent, that’s more than they need to know. I don’t owe anyone anything else.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we grab a late dinner? Could, I dunno, celebrate your win or something.”

For the first time since we met, I had no interest in seeing George Willows. “Not tonight,” I muttered. “I just… want to go home. Sleep. Avoid Twitter.” I finally turned, realizing it was, of all people, Roy hovering in my doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, I hung up, tossing my phone on my desk before turning my chair around, raising my eyebrows teasingly at Roy. “Need something? Or are you going to send me another inspiring text message?”

He stared at me, mouth open like he was about to speak. Finally, he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck,” he breathed, stepping further into my office. “You… you were fucking something today, you know that?”

I shook my head and stood up, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Kent-”

“No.” He smirked at me. “Take the fucking compliment.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you I was… really impressed today.” He cleared his throat. “On the field. In the press room. You’re a fucking great manager.” He let out a deep breath, eyes shifting around the office. “Don’t think I’ve told you that, and I’m sorry I haven’t.” He met my gaze, his smirk becoming a smile. “And I am very glad Phoebe has someone like you to look up to. So… that’s it, I guess.”

Roy Kent was looking at me with admiration. Roy Kent, who’d hated me and screamed at me. Roy Kent, who’d slept with me. Roy Kent, who asked me to speak to a girls’ soccer team. Roy Kent.

Roy Kent, who I wrapped my arms around and pulled into a hug. Not giving a shit about anything outside my tiny office, I pressed my body close to his, squeezing him tight. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tear-stained face dampen his Greyhounds shirt. His words, the look on his face, they were exactly what I needed.

His hands hovered over my hips, not returning the embrace, and I could hear him clear his throat, the vibration rumbling against my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately regretting my impulsive action, I pulled back, positive my face was bright red. “Shit,” I mumbled, my mind reeling from the roller coaster of emotions I was having tonight. “Sorry, I-”

Suddenly, I was pulled back to Roy’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I swore he sighed when my arms returned to his neck, and when my head hit his chest, I could hear his heart pounding, just as hard as I knew mine was. We stood there, hugging, wrapped up in whatever little world we were in, away from the press and the rumors and the judgement.

Just me and Roy.

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#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic

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markresonates · 2 years

Text

FASTER

summary: you catch a ride to a party with Haechan after your date stands you up, but eventually ditch when drama ensues

pairing: rich stoner frat boy!Haechan x fem!reader

genre: porn w plot, angst, tiny fluff bc i'm soft

au/tropes: university, beach town, stupid bets, best friends to lovers

word count: +4.5k

a/n: oh hey tumblr! long time, no see...let's pretend i posted this last week, okay? okay

warnings: public high sex, oral (fem), squirting, tiny humiliation, lil manhandling, me *unsurprisingly* pushing the haechan big dick agenda, drinking & smoking, semi hard dom!Haechan, sub!reader

In your mind, you envisioned tonight going down a bit differently. You should be a few drinks into the first party of the school year at the biggest frat house on campus, body buzzing from cheap booze, drunk on your youth and the fallacy you’ll live forever. You were excited for the events that lie ahead, yet unbeknownst to you, what you imagined would never pan out. The guy who asked you out at club cornucopia last week was supposed to pick you up a half hour ago, and he’s failed to answer a single call of yours.

After reviewing your options, you decide to go to the party anyways. You’ll be damned before you waste your first opportunity of the year to party like your actions have no consequences. Collecting your things, you walk through the front door with determination.

A set of white headlights approach you from behind as you lock up the place, and the new silver Porsche they belong to cruises to a stop, parallel the driveway.

“Hey, babe,” a smooth voice calls out to you from the passenger seat window. “Looks like you need a ride.”

You tense up before peering through the vehicle and recognizing the driver – even in the dark you’d recognize Haechan’s smirk and that attempted wink he throws in any day. “Hm, depends. Are you going to drive the speed limit?”

“Ha, not a chance,” Haechan says, unlocking the doors, anticipating you’ll cave regardless. The handle on the outside pops out from where it was previously flat against the Porsche door.

You mull it over for a moment, then sigh and hop in the pricey sports car. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

As soon as he hears you buckle up safely, the car takes off at a not so safe speed. “So, y/n, why are you late to my party?”

“I could ask you the same question. Why are you late to your frat’s party?”

“I’m on-time, actually,” he reports, very matter-of-factly.

You snort. “This is what on-time looks like for you? You know, you’re good at a lot of things but time management is not one of them.”

Haechan chuckles, dryly. “This is what doing an alcohol run looks like, sweetheart.”

He pulls up to a stop sign, hitting the brakes suddenly and making you grab for the railing on the car door. From tall paper grocery bags in the backseat, you hear glass bottles bump against each other, clinking loudly.

“You ran out of alcohol that quickly?”

He cracks a cocky half grin. “What can I say? I throw great parties,” he compliments himself, changing gear shifts and hitting the gas pedal. “And thank you for acknowledging I’m great at nearly everything.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “I mean like, that’s not what I said but-”

“I could show you a few other things I’m great at too…if you’re ever down, y/n,” he proposes and shoots a knowing glance your way.

Your cheeks heat up, his words compelling a fluttering sensation deep inside. It’s a familiar feeling when it comes to being within close proximity of Haechan. “Hey, eyes on the road,” you reply, directing his head forward with two fingers to his chin.

For as long as you can remember in your friendship, Haechan has been a shameless flirt. Nevertheless, after all these years of suggestive comments here and there, you’ve never taken them seriously. There was a point in high school where you had tried to distance yourself from him, at least until your tiny crush went away, but it was too hard to maintain radio silence with Haechan. Especially because he continued to bug you about hanging out and asking why you were avoiding “the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for" – his words, not yours.

The only reason you two stopped talking as much recently was that he got heavily involved with his fraternity business (and the wild shenanigans that accompanied it). It’s been a few weeks since you’ve spent more than 10 minutes with him.

“When did you get-” you begin before his abrupt parking.

“Here!” he announces. He kills the engine, getting out around the corner from Greek row. You disappointingly snap your tongue but follow his lead a second later. “Sorry, what was that again?”

“Haechan! Took you long enough!” Johnny shouts from across the street.

You take a deep breath. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.”

“No, what were you saying?”

“I was saying it took you long enough!” Johnny repeats, jokingly. “What’s up, y/n? Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Hey! Well, I’d be around more if I was invited to.” You give Haechan a pointed look.

“Why don’t you have her over more? Scared someone is gonna steal your girl?” The fraternity alumnus’ eyes ping pong between you two, attempting to gauge reactions.

He doesn’t give him much of an opportunity to read his face, instead ducking into the car again to retrieve hard liquor from the backseat. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be DJing?” Haechan deflects.

“I left TY Track on duty right now. I was about ready to come looking for you because you volunteered to swing by the liquor store on your way here an hour ago.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “Oh, so you weren’t actually on-time to the party like you told me.”

"HA, Haechan? On-time?"

“Actually, um, I never said I was on-time to the party. I was perfectly on-time to pick you up where you were so you didn’t have to walk the entire way!” Haechan tries to clarify his vague assertion from earlier. He holds out two heavy bottles for you to take. "Here."

“I got those for you, y/n, don’t worry.” Johnny collects the two from your grasp. You grab the third from Haechan’s extended hand a moment later.

In total, your trio enters the rager through the backdoor with five bottles of the good stuff. You unload in the kitchen, where you find a tipsy Mark attending to a thoroughly shit-faced Jungwoo at their long rectangular table.

“y-y/n!” Mark hiccups. He gets to his feet, taking a few wobbly steps towards you to throw his arms around your shoulders . “I missed you!”

“Sorry, he’s clingy when he’s drunk,” Haechan apologizes for some reason.

You giggle at the cuddly boy’s inconsistent affectionate side. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Mork, get off of her, she doesn’t want you.” He enunciates his words as if explaining something to a child.

“How do you know wha- I mean WHO, she wants, huh?” Johnny teases with a suspicious expression. He strolls out of the kitchen, returning to his shared turntables.

Annoyed, Haechan sticks his tongue into his cheek and his head twitches to the side. “Ugh. I need a drink.”

The kitchen isn’t terribly well-lit but it is bright enough that you notice a light purple patch on his neck. If you had to guess, based on the yellowish color around it, you would say someone’s mouth left that mark on him a week ago.

“Are you, like, jealous or something?” Mark blurts out. He squeezes your body tighter.

You avert your gaze from the hickey, blinking a handful of times. “I, um-”

“Why would I be jealous?” Haechan snaps. He hops on the kitchen counter, sitting relatively close to you, and screws the cap off of the vodka bottle you brought in. “Like I haven’t hugged my own best friend before? Come on.”

Bingo. There’s that reminder you needed: best F-R-I-E-N-D.

You can stare at his neck all you want but nothing is going to change the fact that your lips will never be in the same place.

“Is that all you’ve done? Hug?” Jaehyun interjects from behind you. He joins your small kitchen crowd, minorly buzzed with a red solo cup of beer in hand. Mark detaches his body from yours to cling to him and weirdly rub his ears instead.

“Yeah? So?” Haechan answers, begrudgingly.

“Hm, how do you guys feel about a friendly game of spin the bottle? Or is that too much for you to handle as friends?”

“If you wanna m-make out with y/n, you don’t neeeed to play a game,” Jungwoo mumbles, every syllable of his speech slurred to the point where you can barely understand him. “She’s p-probably easy enough to get on her knees r-ight now.”

The kitchen is dead silent as all eyes turn from the drunken individual to you. Haechan puts down the bottle before taking a single swig, jumping down from the counter a second later. Your heart begins to race as adrenaline floods your system.

“What did you just fucking say?” he challenges, venomously.

Jungwoo clears his throat nervously, perking up a bit hearing the distinctive threatening tone. “Er, I didn’t say that. S-someone…someone told me that.”

He lays his hands on the kitchen table, leaning halfway over it. “Who?”

“Oh my gawd,” Mark gasps dramatically. “The bet…”

“The bet?” Haechan whips in his direction. “Whose bet?”

You remember Haechan telling you that it’s a fraternity tradition for the members to carry out a bet the first week of school every year, and you have a feeling you know who Jungwoo is hinting towards – the particular someone who was supposed to pick you up earlier.

The guy who asked you out at club cornucopia, and hooked up with on your first date the day after that. He was so persistent to get you to third base, but you turned him down that night because you didn’t want to rush into things with a person you could genuinely see yourself growing to like.

You couldn't wait for Haechan forever. You knew you had to move on – or at least try to move on.

Mark gulps guiltily, before providing context. “His bet was that he couldn’t get someone he asked out at club cornucopia to, you know–” Mark bobs his head with his mouth open. “–on a first date…and an hour ago, he told everyone he did...with y/n.”

Your best friend clenches his jaw. “Who?”

“Sungchan.”

“Yeah?” he answers, right on cue. Sunchan stops in the doorway when he meets your livid eyes. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh!” you spit. “So you really fucking lied and told everyone I sucked your dick? What the f-!”

Haechan cuts you off, socking their younger frat brother in the jaw.

You wouldn’t describe Haechan as the most athletic person in the world, but you heard from Jeno that he’s been hitting the gym more and more lately, evident by the fact he can do five full pull ups now. Much to the kitchen crowd’s surprise – yours included – his fist collides with Sungchan’s face hard enough to send him to the ground.

"Ow!" Haechan caresses his sore hand.

Having no desire to wait around and see what happens next, you grab his unharmed hand and drag him out the back door. You march him back to his car. Not a sound leaves your mouth until you are both in your seats.

“That was…” you trail off, cringing.

“y/n, I’m sorry that I-”

“No, no, it’s not you.” Receiving a call from Mark, he fishes his phone out of his pocket. He declines the call and patiently waits for you to continue speaking. “Ugh, I wish I could forget this whole night ever happened.” You bury your face in your hands for a moment.

“Hey, let’s go get high like old times,” Haechan suggests, nudging your arm softly after a moment of silence. “We can forget all about it, sweetheart.”

You give him a weak smile and hum approvingly. He smiles back at you. “There’s that smile of yours I love.”

He doesn’t stall for your input on location, inserting the key into the ignition, with a new – or should I say your old – destination in mind. It’s a 30 minute drive with no traffic but it doesn’t take long before you recognize the roads he is taking to the beach. You’re driving down memory lane, picturing the moments you shared with Haechan – you experiencing your first almost kiss with him in middle school; him sharing in great detail his first time with some hot girl you didn’t know personally but were envious of; you crying over your first heartbreak; him high blabbing all the secrets he knows about his frat brothers when he first joined and making you promise not to tell another soul.

This will just be another sour memory attributed to your favorite secret smoke sesh spot and remedied by his presence.

For once, he lets you pick the music. You keep the volume on low for him to share what he’s been up to most of the summer and you gladly listen. You’ve always been easily distracted by Haechan, and even if the party tonight was a monumental waste of your time, this moment is no exception to his captivating charm stealing your attention.

Haechan was the epitome of cool. Watching him drive, you’re convinced that he has never looked so hot. Every so often, he runs his fingers through his soft, dark magenta hair and you feel tempted to do the same. He leans back in his seat, his ripped black jean clad thighs spread wide open, right foot flooring the gas pedal. His hurt hand loosely grips the bottom of the steering wheel while the other is rested on the gear shift.

Your surroundings pass by in a blur since he speeds there nearly the entire way. You are in the middle of talking (and overanalyzing) your date with Sungchan when he pulls up to a stop light. He shifts the position of his hand to cup your thigh. It’s supposed to be comforting but, if anything, it feels more intimate and possessive than he initially intended.

He half expects you to pull away from his touch, but you wouldn’t dare move a muscle. Testing the waters, he slowly rubs his thumb back and forth on your warm thigh. It’s a delicate feeling that makes you feel like your skin is on fire. If it wasn’t for the traffic light turning green, he would have explored your body further.

He pulls into the small, empty dirt lot. Very few people know that behind a large boulder in the very corner of the lot, there is a large enough space to fit one car. He parks his Porsche but leaves it on to play music. You pick your favorite high playlist to play on warm nights like these. He retrieves the necessities from the trunk and readies things up so you don’t have to do any of the work. He takes the first hit from his ruby red bong, blowing clouds of white smoke into the air.

“You wanna be a big girl and light it yourself?” He playfully wiggles his eyebrows and waves the lighter around.

“I can do things by myself. You don’t always need to take care of me.”

“I don’t mind taking care of you, but okaaay, if you say so sweetheart,” he sing-songs.

Overestimating your abilities, you take a sharp hit and almost immediately cough. The stinging sensation prickles in your throat and lungs, while the euphoric haze punctures reality as you know it. You two go back and forth, taking turns until you’re both high as a kite.

You close your eyes and melt into the moment as Frank Ocean’s “Skyline To” flows from the car speakers.

Solstice ain't as far as it used to be,

It begins to blur, we get older.

Summer's not as long as it used to be,

Everyday counts like crazy.

Smoke, haze

The atmosphere is calming, a peaceful serenity in the silence. Rolling waves and soft melodies lull your mind into the clouds, though your despondent consciousness descends from the high quicker than you’re used to as the reality of the situation awakens an excitement only Haechan can invigorate. Where you lack vocal communication, the energy between you two buzzes and crackles as tension thickens in the humid air.

To diffuse some tension, you settle on asking about something you know he would love to brag about. “So, when’d you get this one?”

“What, the car? Last month. Isn’t she pretty?” he responds with a wide smile. He rubs the dashboard fondly. “I’ve always dreamed of having a Porsche.”

You giggle at his enthusiasm. “I guess dreams come true, huh?”

“Well…not all dreams. But maybe someday,” Haechan says, cryptically.

“I hope you get everything you could ever wish for.” You pat his knee with sincerity. “What else have you been doing since school started?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Nothing really. I basically spend all my time with the boys and my baby.”

“Um, oh,” you reply.

He gets out of the car to put away his bong and its corresponding accessories in the trunk. While he’s taking care of business, you struggle to hide your emotions to the news of a relationship you weren’t aware existed.

Maybe it’s better to know you have no chance. Almost reassuring that you can give up on your dream where you could have a life with him. At least now you know where it is he got that hickey on his neck – from somebody luckier than you are, sadly.

He gets back in the car and takes over as DJ. You wipe the built up condensation off the foggy window with the back of your hand, failing to take into account that the droplets could soak into your long-sleeved, crop top shirt if you weren’t paying attention. You regret wearing it anyways due to the fact that tonight turned out to be much warmer than the weather app on your phone said it would be.

“Ugh, fuck. Just what I needed – a wet wrist,” you grumble.

Haechan rolls down your window for you, lightly snickering at your misfortune. You hold your arms out the window and try to squeeze water from the sweater material. “Oh, so you think this is funny? Now I’m going to be annoyed by it all night.”

“Hey, it’ll dry way sooner than you think.” He rubs your leg reassuringly.

You snap your tongue and sigh heavily. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“You’re cute when you complain, y/n,” Haechan says out of the blue. “Pretty cute when you’re wet too.”

You’re facing away from him, staring out at the black water as if you didn’t hear him. Despite the booming waves crashing against the shore, he hears you gulp. You nearly choke on your saliva, which leaves the impression that when you’re high, your body can’t physically function if you’re simultaneously devoting all of your brain power to the meaning behind his provocative compliments. Then again, even if you weren’t high at the moment, you’re convinced something similar would happen regardless of sobriety.

Looking at the clock, you’re surprised by how much time has passed. Your high is a faint shadow of floaty lightheadedness by this point. You basically have no excuse to feel at a loss for words other than feeling naturally flustered by Haechan – your best friend with a girlfriend of his own now.

“Aren’t you going to say thank you, y/n?” he teases.

“Th-thank you."

“You’re wel-”

“I need some air.” Before he can react, you abruptly get out of the car.

He quickly joins your side and you flinch from how close he is. “Okay, what is it? Why are you being like this?” Haechan questions, reaching for your hand.

You pull away and cross your arms. “I just don’t think we should be so close if you have a girlfriend!”

His face scrunches up. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend!”

“You just-? You just said you spend all your time with the boys and your baby.”

“God! Are you serious? Is that what this is about?” Haechan frustratingly runs his hand through his hair. “I was talking about my fucking car!”

“But-” You pause for a moment, processing his words. “But what about your hickey?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Jaemin and I had bets for the new school year where he had to give me a hickey and I had to wear it the whole first week of classes!”

"Jaemin?" Hiding your shocked expression, you look at the ground, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Your plan works for 0.2 seconds before he lifts your chin up.

“Why did it matter so much to you?”

You gulp. “It didn’t.”

“Liar.” He moves his hand to cup your cheek. “Were you jealous, sweetheart?”

With both hands on his chest, you try to push away from him. He wraps his free arm around your body to hold you in place, causing you to gasp. Arousal instantly rushes through your lower half.

He directs your head back to stare into your soul again. “Answer the question, y/n,” he whispers with chilling intensity.

“I…maybe.” Your eyes flick down to his mouth where he wears a devilish smirk.

He shifts his hand again, this time holding under your chin but with his thumb lightly rubbing along your bottom lip. “Then I guess I have Jaemin to partially thank for making my other dream come true.”

Haechan doesn’t waste a single second diving in for a kiss. His unharmed hand slides down to squeeze your ass while the other loosely holds your lower back. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss by parting your lips for his eager tongue to slip inside your mouth. He wobbles you towards the car, skillfully unbuttons and unzips your jeans, and flips your body around. From behind, he rips your jeans down your legs and gets on his knees, without a care in the world that his own will get dusty. He kisses your pussy over your panties and you mewl.

Noticing the wet patch, he chuckles. “Already wet for me, hm?”

“You've always made me wet,” you answer breathlessly.

He hums, content with your response. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He thumbs your panties to the side and connects his mouth to your folds. You lean against the car, moaning his name and inflating his ego. Haechan eats you out until you’re seconds away from coming. He rocks back on his feet and opens the car door. He pushes the button in the center console to open the hood, pushes both front seats forward and flips the back seats over to give you two more space. You kick your pants off your ankles as he gets in the back. He removes his throbbing erection from his jeans and gives it a few jerks.

“Fuck, y/n. You see what you do to me?” he rasps. You nod repeatedly, refusing to look away from his precum-slick tip.

He slides a condom on and you climb on top of him, straddling his lap. You hover over his large cock for a moment before he lowers your body down. Once his whole length has disappeared inside of your pussy, you're completely full to the point where you have tears in your eyes. He wipes a tear from your cheek and waits for you to roll your hips first. Soon enough, your bodies are molding together and you’re bouncing on his cock mindlessly.

You roll your head to the side to give his mouth access to your neck. He intermittently plants wet sensual kisses, taking years worth of pent up lust out on your sensitive skin. You can feel the satisfied smile on Haechan’s lips growing wider as you moan.

“I’ve been dying to hear your pretty moans for years now.”

“Yeah? Why didn’t you d-do something about it then?”

He scoffs. “God, what did you think I meant by ‘show you a few other things I’m good at,’ huh? Hasn’t it been fucking obvious I'm crazy about you?”

Haechan manhandles your body around so you’re facing away from him. No one would know he has a hurt hand by the way he digs his fingers into your skin. He fucks you nice and hard, turning you into a whimpering mess. You might as well be high based on the out of body experience after a handful of minutes.

“F-faster,” you whine.

“Alright, sweetheart. If you think you can take it…”

He increases his speed and loops a hand around your body to rub your clit. His fingers move rapidly, the pressure in your core increasingly mounting until the sensation teeters on the edge of overwhelming. You try to fight it and last longer than your body is realistically capable of.

Haechan senses your impending orgasm. “It’s okay, baby. Be a good girl and come for me. You know you want to.”

You come on his cock with a broken sob. As his pace accelerates, you regrettably start to squirt all over the back of his front seat. You watch your juices flow out of your body, squeezing your eyes shut, humiliated you can’t get a handle on your body’s reflexes to the pleasure.

“That’s it, y/n. Let it allll out, it’s okay. Don’t hold back,” he encourages you, surprisingly not caring about the mess you’re making in his precious car.

You roll your head to rest on his shoulder and drool drips from the corner of your mouth. Your body quivers through the entire high. When his fingers continue to rub your clit, you twitch wildly. Your hot walls pulse around his cock, finally triggering his own orgasm. Haechan shoots his load inside you while a rich, deep groan falls from his lips. The rhythm of his thrusting slows to a crawl before stopping entirely.

He lifts you off of his lap when both of you have finished panting and caught your breath. He rolls the condom off and puts it in a plastic bag he keeps in the back seat for collecting trash. Leaning forward, he presses the button to close the top of the car. It’s just you, him, and the sound of the ocean again.

He hands you the panties that were discarded in the front seat and you slip them back on. Haechan sits back, pulling your body close to his side. You throw your legs over his lap and snuggle into him comfortably.

“Dreams really do come true,” you mumble, lethargically.

"I guess so." He kisses the top of your head. "Or at least mine do."

You bury your face into his chest. “Sorry about your car.”

Haechan sighs. “It’s okay, really. I can always get it cleaned. And on the bright side, every time I get in my car, I’ll always remember how I made you come in the backseat.” He squeezes you tighter and you giggle at his optimism.

You're moments away from sleep when a lightbulb goes off in his head. "Hey, sweetheart, how about you give me a hickey on the other side of my neck?"

A bolt of excitement zaps you wide awake. You look up at him, eyeing a blank space with your name on it and smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

hiii ik 2 baddies is supposed to be about a 3some but how the fuck are 3 people supposed to fuck in a car?? exactly. i watched a video tour of the 2021 Porsche 911 (what i learned to be the newest model that actually has a trunk) for this and there's like barely any space for 2 people, let alone 3...

so it's been almost 6 months since i've posted and this is something i wrote real quick in honor of 2 baddies and to feed yall a bit. originally, i intended on posting this last week (when it was still the season of summer) but i was too anxious about my own school year starting this past week to proofread. 00 liner's watch me and mark's show off are still wips bc my thoughts are all over the place with both of them.

i feel like i've developed a love-hate relationship with writing over the last 10 months and it's hard to want to do it. i feel like it makes me happy while also making me anxious. the thing is, not posting also makes me anxious. same with anon mail. i love hearing from readers but i also know that before i closed my mailbox to anon mail, i started getting a lot of hate anons again, and it didn't really seem worth it. basically, it's a lose-lose situation in both regards. i'm going to turn on anons for a little and see how it goes...

i think most of my anxiety around tumblr now is that i know people expect things from me, and i want to do so well on those things that i don't do anything at all bc i don't want to let anyone down. i'm going to be more active on tumblr again but readers need to understand i'm a person. i have a life and i have too many feelings. i don't want to leave tumblr completely but if things get to be as bad as they were in the first few months of the year in terms of feedback, i might have to reevaluate my time here. i would greatly appreciate your patience with me posting those two fics and i thank you for reading this one!

okay, tis all! and again, i sincerely thank you for reading!

stream *2 Baddies!!*

➾my masterlist

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codfanficedits · 7 months

Text

Don't fall in love - Part two.

Summary:

You get warned not to fall in love with Ghost, but you did anyways. Turning this into a little series!

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 916 | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: a little bit of angst - swearing

Part One here

‘Don’t fall in love with him.’

And you can’t fall in love with something you can’t see, at least that is what you’re telling yourself as you avoid him. Memorizing how his footsteps sound like so you know when to slip out of rooms, to leave gatherings whenever your ears pick up the heavy steps. But you can’t avoid him forever, not matter how hard you try. The most hypocritical part? You’re hurt when he doesn’t look at you during a mission briefing. And now you understand the women you’ve seen crying about him before, because it seems like Ghost hold your whole being in the palm of his hand, only to crush it when he refuses to acknowledge you’re even there. Why are you craving his validation so much while you’re the person who turned him down, who left first? Why do these feelings have to be so complicated?

It isn’t until the briefing is dismissed that he finally looks at you and again you don’t know how to handle it, why do you want him to look at you and why do you want to look away at the same time. The cold air that he leaves behind when he walks past you without giving you a crumb of attention hurts into the core of your soul and you can feel the hot tears burn behind your eyes, but you refuse it. You refuse to become one of the women who were stupid enough to fall in love with him and cry about it, after all, you did get warned about it.

You feel regret whenever you remind yourself that you were the one who left him that night, because now your mind can torture you with things that could’ve been, but never happened because you decided to leave. You’re so lost in thought that you nearly bump into a large back. One you could recognize from afar.

Ghost turns around, those beautiful brown eyes are cold, harsh behind his mask.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Am not.” You protest, although the both of you know it’s a blatant lie.

His eyes narrow, before he shakes his head. “Was it something I did?”

It’s a question that caught you off guard. The vulnerability in his voice wasn’t something you expected to hear, you had expected anger, coldness, hate maybe even, but not this. The man who you were warned about, stood before you, a strain on his voice as he asked you the question that had been haunting his heart for days now.

Ghost wanted to pull up the walls again, shut you out, move on to the next. But Simon needed to know, Simon couldn’t take your silence, a rejection that stabbed him through his heart. Because there were two longings inside of him, and one was fighting with the other. Simon wanted to be loved and Ghost wanted to be always alone.

Because Simon dreams of conversations Ghost never get to have. He is unable to take the silence anymore, the guilt growing rapid in him.

“Please. God, don’t tell me I did do anything you didn’t want.”

What? You’re confused. Is that what he is thinking? Now it’s your turn to feel the guilt inside of you grow. You were so caught up with your own feelings, you never took his feelings into account, after all, you were warned about him, to not fall in love with him.

He takes off his mask, the balaclava following after. A look of distress on his face as he runs a hand through that dirty blonde hair.

“Because if I did, I’m so sorry. I really thought you were into it too, and I never meant to push you over any of your boundaries.” The words spill out of him as water spills out of a breaking dam.

“Stop.”

Silence

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.” You reassure him.

“Then why?” The same strain on his voice again, a look of hurt on his face. But how can you tell him how you feel without giving him the ability to completely destroy you?

“Why do you avoid me?” He asks again, because Simon wanted to know what made him so unlovable.

“They told me not to fall in love with you.”

“Why?” The look of hurt changes to one of disbelief.

“Because you break hearts!” A reproach towards him.

“I’m the one breaking hearts? I had to wake up in an empty bed while you promised to stay the night!”

Why did it bother him so much? You had heard the stories about him kicking women out right after he had reached his orgasm. He shouldn’t care at all.

“Why do you even care at all?” You snap back at him, trying to keep your own feelings hidden by going for the attack.

“Because I wanted you to be different.”

Silence.

You don’t know what to say, you’ve been so keen on telling yourself you couldn’t fall in love with him, that you never ever saw the opportunity that the feelings could be mutual.

“Fuck.” His voice is strained at all. “Say something.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I’m sorry I left that night.”

A pained laugh escapes him. “Fuck. That’s not what this is about.” He shakes his head. “You know what? Forget I said a fucking thing.” He hisses before he turns around on his heels, leaving you behind. And you can’t help but feel as if you showed that you cared too late.

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illusioninfnty · 6 months

Text

Outlast: Chapter Seven (Sam Giddings x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2K

3:02

You only had a few moments of quiet to yourself before Mike went and disrupted it.

He was never good with silence in a room, always having to be the one to break it. You should’ve known he’d open his mouth before you even had a chance to clear your own thoughts.

“So, we’re still not going to address the giant elephant in the room?” he asks you, peering around your shoulder and looking up at you.

You stare straight ahead, avoiding his eyes as to not give him any tell to what you’re feeling at the moment. You were still frustrated with his persistence in knowing the truth. But it was too dangerous for him to know, and you still stood by that decision. You were confident in your ability to handle this on your own. There was no need to put your friends in any more unnecessary danger than they were already in.

“I’m not, but you can do whatever the hell you want, I guess.” You brush him off and push on past him, careful to not make your footsteps too loud while traveling through the tunnels. Anything could be lurking in the shadows, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

You hear him sigh from behind you. “Dude, come on. You’re hiding all this big shit from me and you expect me to not be curious? Yeah fucking right.”

He bumps your shoulder and you shake your head in warning. “It’s really complicated, alright? And besides, it would probably be better to talk about this when everyone is here. I don’t want to be repeating myself.”

It was an excuse, but a damn good one that you came up with on the spot. You weren’t planning on telling any of them, especially Mike. You didn’t want him to get an even bigger hero complex than he already has. It would only lead him into more danger.

“So you’re telling me that you already know—”

You cut him off. “Look, let’s just focus on finding the others right now, okay? We can get back to this later.”

Mike eyes you warily, as if he already knows you’re lying to him. “I won’t drop this, you know.” “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Do you really—”

“Yes, Mike, I will answer all of the burning questions you have for me, eventually.”

He barely had time to reply before you two made it to a familiar place—the lodge. But you weren’t at the normal entrance. Instead it looked as though you had come from a back way, and were heading right towards the basement.

“Someone may be in there. Be careful not to spook them,” you warned Mike.

“I’m not stupid, Tex.” You could practically hear him roll his eyes. But the way he lightened up his footsteps ever so slightly had you smirking in victory.

When the two of you made it to the tiny grate that was the basement window, Mike stepped in front of you. He slowed down, then came to a stop, causing you to peek out from behind to check what made him pause.

And then you hear your name being called out by a voice you knew all too well. Sam.

3:10

Hearing Sam’s voice was like breathing in a breath of fresh air that you didn’t know that you needed until that very moment.

“Sam!” You push Mike out of your way, hearing a slight hey! from him. But you ignore his complaints, instead immediately running towards your girlfriend who is bound to a chair, wearing nothing but a towel.

Your jaw clenches as you grasp onto the bars of the window, trying to pull them loose but to no avail.

“Who did this to you?”

Sam looks disoriented, rapidly blinking as she takes in her surroundings. “I-I’m not entirely sure. I was in the bath and then there was this man chasing me and—”

“Okay, okay just,” Mike begins to calm her down, holding his hand out to shush her. “Just relax. We’ll get you out of there and then we can regroup and figure out what the hell is going on.”

You were never a patient person, and you sure as hell weren’t going to wait for Mike to come up with a solution when you had an easier one on hand.

Whipping out the machete, you search for an entrance, finding one around the corner and you take your weapon to the wooden door.

“Woah, Tex! You’re going to alert someone!” The banging of your machete drowns out Mike’s exclamations. You’re laser-focused on getting Sam out of the basement.

“Oh fuck off! We don’t have any better ideas!”

The door finally splinters away enough where you can bust through it. You shoulder your way in and are finally able to see Sam.

You didn’t realize how long it had actually been since you last saw your girlfriend. She looked utterly exhausted, deep bags having formed under her eyes and her skin looking paler than usual. She’s practically slumped in the chair she’s tied to, and there’s a nasty bruise forming on her temple.

You rush over to her and swiftly cut her free, scooping her up in your arms tightly. Your arms quiver, a combination of the cold and the relief of seeing her alive and safe.

“Oh my god, you don’t know how glad I am to see you alone in a creepy basement.”

Sam laughs at your comment and grabs your forearms to steady herself as you pull back, leaning up to kiss you.

You press yourself into her, missing the feeling of her touch against you. Her lips are cold and chapped, but you couldn’t care less about that. Sam’s body melts into your hold, and you run your hands through your fingers as you deepen the kiss, a soft moan leaving your girlfriend’s lips as you do so.

A superficial cough breaks you out of your kiss.

You swivel your head towards Mike, giving him your middle finger for the interruption. His eyes shift everywhere but to your own, and he rocks on the balls of his feet awkwardly.

“Fuck off, man,” you growl out, “I’ve been worrying about her since I fucking left. Give me a break.”

Sam sighs, patting your chest gently. “It’s fine, babe. I need to get dressed anyway.”

You grab her backpack for her and usher her over to an isolated corner of the room to give her some semblance of privacy.

You turn back and see that Mike hasn’t moved from his position. You send him the iciest glare you can muster.

“Do you mind?”

He jumps a bit. “Oh. Right. My bad.” And then he finally turns around.

You tut and roll your eyes. “Fucking men,” you grumble under your breath.

Sam only takes a quick minute to change into her clothes, donning a red zip-up hoodie and some light gray athletic leggings.

You let out a teasing low whistle when she bends down to close her bag, admiring your girlfriend’s beautiful assets.

The tinge of red that you see covering the tips of her ears has you laughing as she finishes tying her shoes, and you give her another kiss as the three of you regroup and figure out what the fuck has been going on.

“So, what happened?” Sam speaks first. “Where the hell have you guys been?”

You share a glance with Mike. You both hesitate to answer.

“Did you see any others?” Sam continues. “The house was empty when he attacked me. I couldn’t find Chris or Ashley. Did you see them on your way here?”

You and Mike exchange a look. Sam was stuck in the lodge this whole entire time. She knew absolutely nothing about what had conspired.

Sam rolls her eyes. “C’mon guys. Spill.”

You didn’t want Mike to have to spend any more time than he had to thinking about his girlfriend’s death, so you spoke up instead.

“Jess…” You grab onto Sam’s hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it. “Jess didn’t make it. She was attacked.” You can hear the hitch in her breath and the way she subtly squeezes your hand tighter. You open your mouth to continue, but Mike beats you to it, now pacing back and forth.

“He killed her, Sam. There's some maniac on the mountain who is trying to kill us. All of us. And I swear to God, when everyone is safe and accounted for I am gonna hunt that fucker down and rip his nuts off one at a goddamn time.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “Whoa.”

You don’t want him to get even more riled up, so you interrupt his tirade.

“We couldn’t reach her in time...” You trail off as you see the way Sam’s reaction changes ever so slightly with the news.

“What?” You grab onto her shoulders. You knew that look on her face, the way her eyebrows furrow and she bit her lip that was quivering ever-so-slightly. It meant that something bad had happened. Real bad. “What is it, Sam?” You ask her, concerned.

She looks up at you and guilt shines in her eyes. “Babe,” she begins, “Something else happened.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?” You start inspecting her, looking for any more injuries she may be hiding from you.

“What’s going on?” Mike asks hurriedly, seeing the way your body tenses up from Sam’s reaction.

“No, no—” She gently pushes you away, grabbing your hands and making eye contact with you. “It’s not me. Baby, it’s-it’s Josh. There was this video, and…” she teeters off, biting her lip, her eyes now downcast. “He’s dead.”

You freeze.

Josh? One of your childhood best friends? The guy you were just joking around with only a couple hours ago?

You try to maintain your composure as you take in the news. Sam’s hand acts like your anchor, and you're happy she never let go of it.

Your mind drifts back to her words. There was a video. Which meant she had to watch him die. The thought fills you with rage. She didn’t deserve to see something so traumatizing as her friend’s death.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you say to her gently, pulling her head closer to you and stroking her hair. “How did all of this happen? You said there was a man?”

Her head lowers, no doubt sorting through all of the memories in her head. “I got out of the bath, and I couldn't find Chris, Ashley, or Josh. There was this man, he had on a weird mask. I ran into the theater room, and on the screen,” her voice quivers and your heart clenches in your chest. “The video. Josh was chained up, and there was this giant saw,” she takes a deep breath. “The man was chasing me around the house. I tried to hide, but he knocked me out. I was only awake for a bit before you guys found me.”

You hide your shudder of disgust. Not even a quick death. You instead nod, focusing in on Sam and listening to her every word intently. “And you’re sure you’re alright?” you ask her gently.

She kisses the crevice between your shoulder and neck. “I’m alright. I’ve had some time to process it.” She takes a few more seconds to bask in your hold and then she stands up, rubbing her hands together. “We need a plan for what the hell we’re going to do now.”

“Right,” Mike sighs out.

Suddenly, you hear faint screams in the room next to you. All three of you swivel your heads to the noise.

“Is that…” he starts.

“Please!” A voice screams out. There’s no doubt that the voice belongs to Ashley.

“Fuck,” you grumble, and you rush over to unlock the door where it’s coming from. You can hear Sam and Mike’s footsteps as they come up behind you.

You won’t let another friend die tonight.

Character Traits:

Honest: 4/10 ↓

Charitable: 9/10

Funny: 4/10

Brave: 10/10

Romantic: 7/10 ↑

Curious: 5/10

Relationship Status:

Ashley: 6/10

Chris: 8/10

Emily: 5/10

Jess: 3/10

Josh: 9/10

Matt: 7/10

Mike: 5/10 ↓

Sam: 10/10

Chapter Six || Chapter Eight

#until dawn x reader #sam giddings x reader #samantha giddings x reader #until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn sam #sam giddings #samantha giddings #wlw

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reneeluv154 · 5 months

Text

Dance

Hi! I hope you enjoy <3 <3

In this imagine you and Newt dance together. I wasn’t sure if this one was any good so I might do a pt 2, I’m not sure. Depends on the response it get’s.

If you like this imagine I have a few more on my profile.🫶🏼

<3 <3 <3 <3

I sat with my back against the log in front of the fire, watching the glade. The boy’s had far too much to drink tonight and it was quite obvious. “Come on y/n” Minho waved me over trying not to fall while doing what looked like the Irish jig. “I think I’m gonna sit this one out Min.” I chuckled. “Whatever.” He shrugged, bumping into Thomas, spilling the drink in his hand down Thomas’ shirt. “What the shuck man!” Thomas slurred being drunk himself.

Minho slowly backed away while Thomas looked down at his shirt, eventually deciding to just pull it off and throw it to the ground. I could tell he thought he was hot when he winked at me fixing his hair. I choked on my own drink trying to hold back my laugh, “Hey.” I recognized that smooth accent and turned to face Newt who jumped over the log sitting down beside me leaving a little bit of room between us.

“Hi.” I smiled, I love Newt. I love him more than I would like too but a girl can’t help when she’s in love. “I think we might be the only two who aren’t drunk.” He chuckled looking around at the boy’s. “I know right, I've been asked to dance five times now.” I smiled. “Can you blame em? Not everyday they can dance with a beautiful girl like you.” I shook my head letting out a small laugh allowing my hair to hide my blush. “What?” He asked, bumping my shoulder. “Nothin.”

After a few minutes of sitting in comfortable silence I couldn’t help but ask. “Would…you like to dance Newt?” He looked confused and my heart skipped a beat. “You know what, that's such a stupid question. I don’t know what I was thinking.” As I said this he sat down his drink standing to offer me a hand.

“I would love to dance with you Y/n.” I smiled, grabbing his shockingly strong calloused hand not even trying to hide my excitement.

We walked further out the way of the others. Immediately I rested my arms around his neck, his on my waist. I tried looking into his eyes but ended up blushing, hiding my face in his chest. He laughed, pulling me into more of a hug. “You're lovely y/n.” He whispered, still swaying us gently back and forth.

“Woah, what the hell!” It was Thomas. “So you won’t dance with any of us but you’ll dance with Newt?” I looked at them and smiled slightly, my head still against Newt’s chest.

They stormed off pouting, I giggled looking up at Newt. “I think they're sleepy.” Newt nodded, letting go of me and walking back to where we were sitting before. “Speaking of being sleepy, you little missy need to get to bed.” I frowned. “I was having a good time though.” He shook his head while watching the fire. “Go to bed Y/n.”

“Make me.” I giggled running away as he took off after me.

Part 2 is on my profile! <3

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rubin-therubix-loverofblorbos · 30 days

Text

CARMEN SANDIEGO INCORRECT QUOTES ULTIMATE EDITION! {WARNING! THERE ARE SHIPS. NO ELABORATION}

Shadowsan: I didn't drink that much last night. Carmen: You were flirting with Chase. Shadowsan: So what? They're my partner. Carmen: You asked if they were single. Carmen: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

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Zack: Hey, Carmen you're smart, tell me what would happen if I chugged 3 gallons of chloroform. Carmen: Have you ever been to a mortuary? Zack: Yea, my grandma lives there. Julia: That is the worst response to that question.

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Zack: I may be stupid. The Squad: … Zack: Oh, did you think I was going to finish that sentence?

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Hideo: Suhara, what are you doing? Shadowsan: Making chocolate pudding. Hideo: It's four in the morning, why are you making chocolate pudding? Shadowsan: Because I've lost control of my life. Shadowsan: Here's your pudding, Julia. Julia: Oh that's okay, I'm not hungry anymore.

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Hideo: Do you ever get pre-annoyed? Like you already know someone is going to piss you off? Carmen: What? No, I�� Chase: enters room Hideo: jaw clenches

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Carmen: Go on, give Zack a compliment. Ivy: How do you expect me to do that? Player: Just say something that you wish someone would say to you. Ivy: Uhh… You are now unbanned from Free Ham Sandwich Day! Zack, sobbing: Nobody’s ever said that to me before!

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Chase: holding a salt packet It’s just a little sodium chloride. Julia: Actually Chase, it’s salt. Chase: That’s what I said, sodium chloride. Julia: Uh Chase, that would be salt. Julia: takes salt packer from Chase This is iodized table salt, which in addition to sodium chloride contains anti-caking agents and potassium iodate, which is added to prevent iodine deficiency. So not only are you being overly pretentious by insisting on using scientific terminology for everyday items, you are factually wrong. Your arrogance is your downfall, you annoying little shit.

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Shadowsan, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? Zack: grabs and chugs the entire bottle Zack: Zack: It's perfume.

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Chase: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos. Julia: Was that place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

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Professor Maelstrom: Dr. Bellum, are you drinking… drinking hydrogen peroxide?! Dr. Bellum: It says H2O2! That means it’s the sequel to water!

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Brunt: You disgust me. Cleo: eating a kitkat sideways I realize this and don’t care.

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Brunt: looks over Dr. Bellum’s shoulder at their laptop What the fuck? Dr. Bellum: slams screen shut It’s just research! For something I’m writing about! I swear that’s it! Brunt: Why the hell would that involve the breeding habits of frogs? Dr. Bellum: It’s not just “frogs”, it’s the Surinam Toad. And it’s not “breeding habits”, it’s how they raise their young. This is important information my audience needs to know! Brunt: That doesn’t change the fact this is for one line in a fanfiction. Dr. Bellum, offendedly: You don’t know that! Brunt: I hear no denial.

---

Dr. Bellum: This food is too hot… I cant eat it. Cleo: You’re very hot, and I still eat you. Everyone at the table: silence Brunt: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING! Professor Maelstrom: One dinner… I just want ONE DINNER!

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Dr. Bellum: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why Cleo made me get tested.

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Professor Maelstrom: Is Cleo always like this when they lose? Dr. Bellum: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the Great Jenga Tantrum of 2015. Cleo: You bumped that table and you know it!

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Cleo: Love is weakness and an evolutionary mistake. Brunt: You are literally making a Valentine’s day card for Dr. Bellum. Cleo, pointing their hot glue gun towards Brunt: You’re on thin fucking ice.

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Dr. Bellum is shopping with Cleo Dr. Bellum: Can I get a silenced pistol? Cleo: If there’s one on sale.

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Dr. Bellum: I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

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Professor Maelstrom: You use humor to deflect your trauma. Brunt: Awww, thanks- Professor Maelstrom: That’s not a good thing. Brunt: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny.

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Dr. Bellum: How petty can you get? Cleo: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

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Dr. Bellum: I drink to forget but I always remember. Professor Maelstrom: You're drinking orange juice.

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Carmen: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Ivy: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Carmen: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ZACK WITH ME Shadowsan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

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Carmen, setting down a card: Ace of spades Ivy, pulling out an Uno card: +4 Zack, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you Shadowsan, trembling: What are we playing

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Carmen: Dammit, Zack! Zack: What?! It wasn’t me! Carmen: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Ivy! Ivy: Not me either. Carmen: Oh...Then who set the house on fire? Shadowsan: whistles

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Vlad: You should really cover your webcam with something, what if someone's watching? Boris: Huh, really? I probably have a sticker or something if that would do. Vlad: Sure, sure- Vlad: ...Why do you have a sticker of me? Boris: Oh, it's just one of the spares. Vlad: ...Spares?

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Boris: *running towards Vlad with open arms* Vlad: *moves out of the way* Boris: Hey, why'd you move?! Vlad: I thought you were going to attack me. Boris: I was going to hug you! Vlad: Why would you hug me? Boris: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

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Boris: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Vlad: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

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Boris: Cheers to our new "YAKT". Vlad: the "c" is silent. Boris, staring out at the horizon: Yes, it's very tranquil. You're right.

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Vlad: Wow, Boris, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you. Boris: We literally slept together yesterday. Vlad: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

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Hacker: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up! Hacker: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

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Ivy, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK?? Ivy, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

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Zack: Well, needless to say. Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.

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Zack: Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies? Shadowsan: Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials. Carmen: It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby. Ivy: Rock also defeats baby.

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Chase: I am a responsible adult! Julia: raises brow Chase: I am an adult.

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Ivy, grinning: Before you were what? Julia: Before I was- Ivy: What? Julia: Before I was inter- Ivy: Before you were interrupted? Julia: Cut me off one more time and I swear I'll- Ivy: What? Julia: makes frustrated sound Shadowsan, nervously: Stop that. Before they hurt you.

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Ivy: Where are you going? Hideo: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way.

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Shadowsan: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

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Chase: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming? Shadowsan: Can everyone in this godforsaken group please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"? Ivy: Ya know… it might be.

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Zack: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it. Dash Haber: What- how? Zack: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

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Young Shadowsan: I am a ninja. Young Hideo: No, you’re not. Young Shadowsan: Did you see me do that? Young Hideo: Do what? Young Shadowsan: Exactly.

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Young Hideo: Suhara-kun, you're testifying in an aggravated assault case tomorrow, and the D.A. is worried about how you'll present yourself on the stand. Young Shadowsan: Why? I'm fine on the stand! flashback to Testimony #1 Young Shadowsan: Look, I'll make this real simple so even these dumdums can understand. Young Shadowsan, to the jury: MAN DID CRIME. flashback to Testimony #2 Young Shadowsan: I'm sorry, could you make her stop doing that weird thing with her face? Defense Attorney, next to the crying defendant: …Crying? flashback to Testimony #3 Young Shadowsan: And when this is over, I'm gonna find you and I'm gonna break those little fingers. Judge: Could the witness please stop threatening the stenographer?

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Zack: Ivy, I screwed up, big time. Ivy: Zack, given your daily life experiences, you’re gonna have to be more specific.

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Shadowsan: Zack is forbidden from monologuing.

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Shadowsan: Turns on the kitchen light Zack: Sitting at the table, eating bread Shadowsan: It’s four in the morning. Zack: Turn the light back off.

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At a zoo Zack: What are they in for? Player: Zack, this isn't prison. Zack: So they can leave? Player: No, but- Zack, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

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Young Shadowsan: Fight me! Young Hideo, standing behind them and holding a knife: mouths Do not.

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Shadowsan: What’s sexting? Ivy: I'm not having this conversation with you.

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After picking Zack up from Denny's Shadowsan: I should've left you on that street corner where you were standing. Zack: But ya' didn't!

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Shadowsan: Did it hurt when you fell- Chase: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt- Shadowsan: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs. Chase: … Shadowsan: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

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Carmen: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Zack will and will not eat. Player: Grass? Yes! Carmen: Moss? Yes!! Player: Leaves? Ohh, yes! Carmen: Shoelaces? Strange but true! Player: Worms? Sometimes! Carmen: Rocks? Usually nah. Player: Twigs? Usually! Carmen: Ivy's cooking? Inconclusive! Julia: How did you… test this? Carmen: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it. Julia: … I don’t know how to feel about this. Ivy: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

---

Chase: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind. Chase: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. Chase: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year? Shadowsan: This is Monopoly.

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Carmen: Holding up a picture of a seemingly young anime girl WHO IS SHE?! IS SHE TWELVE?! Player: No! She's a thousand years ol- Carmen: Plays the reverse card on Uno Online Player: NO! NOOOOOOOOOO-!

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Zack: There is no i in happyness… Chase: There is if you fucking spell it right.

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Roundabout: That's not funny. Dr Bellum: I thought it was funny. Roundabout: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

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Prof. Maelstrom: What do we say when life disappoints us? Countess Cleo: Called it! Prof. Maelstrom: No.

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Dr Bellum: Can you name a single city in Oklahoma? Coach Brunt: Oklahoma City, bitch!

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Dr Bellum: Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye but— Coach Brunt: That's because you're too short to do so. Dr Bellum: …Listen here you fucking—

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playing twister Coach Brunt: Right hand red. Countess Cleo: ends up on top of Dr Bellum Dr Bellum: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Coach Brunt: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.

---

Prof. Maelstrom: Is it still visible? Where Lady Dokuso slapped me? Roundabout: Your face looks like a don't walk signal. Coach Brunt: Your face looks like a photo negative for the hamburger helper box. Countess Cleo: A palm reader could tell Lady Dokuso's future by looking at your face. Dr Bellum: The phrase 'talk to the hand cause the face ain't listening' doesn't work for you, because the hand is your face. Prof. Maelstrom: …A simple 'yes' would've sufficed.

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Dr Bellum, to Countess Cleo: We had a date! Dr Bellum: aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book

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Roundabout: So, how long have you and Countess Cleo been together? Lady Dokuso: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Countess Cleo and I are not together. No. No. Roundabout: Really? Sixteen ‘nos’? Really?

---

Coach Brunt: Gunnar told me that brown is just navy orange, and I have never been more disappointed with something I agree with.

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Tigress: I know you love them. El Topo: I am not in love with Jean-Paul! Tigress, staring at El Topo: I never said who… El Topo: realizes El Topo: Shit. Well, anyways-

Hacker: Uhh.. Mime Bomb just asked if we want to… Hacker: “Fell the mighty before their time and display their carcasses in our homes?” Neil the Eel, not even looking up from their phone: They’re asking if you wanna cut down Christmas Trees. Hacker: Oh, that makes more sense.

---

Tigress, working at McDonald's: Sorry sir, we don't serve a McFuck here, so either you throw that one slice of pickle out or we're gonna have a McProblem.

---

Paper Star: Hey guys, what are your favorite kinds of pudding? Tigress: Pudding deez nuts in your mouth? Is that what you were about to say? Do you gain joy from tricking your innocent cohorts? What if I actually wanted to tell you about my favorite pudding?

---

Hacker: I have a problem. Tigress: Kill it. Hacker: Can you chill for like, two seconds?

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Paper Star: Why are you wearing glasses? Neil the Eel: Errr…reading…? Paper Star: Reading? Paper Star: I didn’t know you could read.

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El Topo: Can you please just apologize to Neil? Le Chevre: Fine, but I have to warn you that this may make me a nicer, better person and that is not who you feel in love with.

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Carmen: What's an orgasm?

Ivy: When you fold paper to look like birds and shit.

Zack: That's oregano bitch.

---

Player: Sorry I was late I was zoomed in on Google Maps following a river from source to mouth.

---

Player and Carmen are texting

Player: You're only gonna catch feelings and get hurt

Carmen: But she's. So funny

Player: So are clowns. Do you see me texting Chuck E Cheese everyday

---

Shadowsan: OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT?! TIME OUT! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE! GET UP THERE! Carmen: Climbing THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!!

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Zack: I don’t remember that. Chase: Do you remember that night last week when you slept in a revolving door? Zack: …No. Chase: Okay, do you remember when you were chased by those wild dogs for two miles? Zack: Not especially, no. Chase: It was in between those two things.

---

Carmen: Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, but I am also in the house tonight. Ivy: But are you shuffling? Carmen: Everyday. Shadowsan: What language are you two speaking??

---

Brotherly Bickering going on here

Shadowsan: I intend to stay pissed at you forever. Shadowsan: Even if I seem helpful. Hideo: Then you're in luck. Hideo: Because you don't.

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Zack: I love cooking breakfast. It makes the whole house smell like bacon. Shadowsan: That’s true, but it also smells like fire and panic. Zack: You and the smoke detector need to get off my case.

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Zack: Why do you act like we’re three year olds? Shadowsan, exasperated: WHY?!? Shadowsan points at Ivy: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR! Shadowsan points at Chase: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK! Shadowsan points at Zack: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND! Shadowsan: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

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Zack: Reverse tooth fairy where you leave money under your pillow and the tooth fairy comes and leaves you a bunch of teeth. Ivy: Why? Zack, shaking a bag of teeth: Just because.

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Shadowsan: What's this? Chase, hugging Shadowsan: Affection! Shadowsan: Disgusting. Shadowsan: …Do it again.

---

Maelstrom: That's a nice arguement, Brunt. Why don't you back it up with a source? Brunt: My source is that I made it the fuck up!

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Maelstrom: Time sensitive question how flirt boy. Saira: Throw rocks at he. Brunt: Hot Dogs. Cleo: Kill him. Maelstrom: Thanks guys.

---

Boris: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Vlad: I wrote you a poem. Boris, already crying: You did?

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Boris: Wow, they really hate us. Vlad: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic. Boris: But we’re not gay, Vlad. Vlad: Boris: Vlad: We’re not?

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Zack: Two bros! Zack: Chillin' in a hot tub! Zack: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK!

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Dash: I want to kiss you. Zack, not paying attention: What? Dash: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

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Dash walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Zack, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK. Zack, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

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Neil : Mimebomb and I are no longer friends. Mimebomb, Signing: NEIL THAT IS THE WORST WAY TO TELL PEOPLE THAT WE’RE DATING!

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Neil and Mimebomb are in Paris. Neil : I'm…moved. I…I don't know what it is I'm feeling right now. I feel…destiny? Mimebomb, Signing: But… Neil : I don't know what it is. I feel like… I just never thought I'd see it with my own two eyes. And here it is. It's just there. It's right in front of me, and… Mimebomb, Signing: This is what you wanted to see? The bridge from Inception? Neil : Yeah. Mimebomb, Signing: But the Eiffel Tower is behind us, babe. Neil : Yeah, but this is the bridge FROM INCEPTION. Mimebomb, Signing: Okay, alright.

AND THAT''S THE END. Or is it....?

#carmen sandiego #i'm not tagging all of them #rubin report

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crappymixtape · 1 year

Text

you're never far behind • part one

when your dad calls and needs your help at home in hawkins you can't say no, but when you arrive back in town you uncover a friendship you thought you'd lost a long time ago | ( 6.2k, angst, tiny fluffies, best friends to strangers to friends to lovers, steve x reader, steve x you )

Y O U ‘ R E N E V E R F A R B E H I N D 🎶 long time, wild rivers

“Was so good of you to come, hon. It’s a lot for your dad to do on his own, especially on delivery days. Can’t lie, sure is nice to see your face around again too! Need a warm up?”

“Please? Thanks, Georgie.”

“Sure thing, sweets.”

Steam lifted from the mug on the counter in front of you as Georgie filled it with more hot coffee. The diner still looked the same as it had when you’d left four years ago. Black and white checkered tiles, worn red plastic seat tops sparkling dully in the florescent lighting from above, the smell of french fries and Georgie’s perfume mingling in the air.

You’d arrived home, home in Hawkins, the night before and had only been to the diner and the post office, but people were already talking about it. Word got around fast. Your dad had been stubborn about it at first, but after he knocked over a couple of shelves in the shop he knew he was in over his head.

He owned the only bookstore in town, Turn A Page, for the last twenty years and took pride in the fact that he didn’t need any help doing it. But then he broke his leg falling off a ladder in the front yard trying to clean out the gutters and it took him a full week to call you.

“Hello?”

“Hey, scout. It’s me, doin’ okay?”

“Dad, yeah I’m good. Just finishing up a few things for a deadline. Everything okay down there?”

Silence.

Your dad was never quiet, so you knew it wasn’t good.

“Dad,” your tone was flat, firm, uninterested in bullshit and he hummed for a second longer, buying himself a bit more time, but gave in when he heard you suck in an anticipatory breath.

“It’s fine! It was just a little tumble. Cleaning out the damn gutters is a mess, but the x-rays came back showing a clean break, which is great news by the way! And I’ll only need crutches for a couple of months–”

“A clean break? X-Rays? Dad! C’mon, what the hell?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, I’m really fine down here. It’s just that, you know crutches, they’re kind of clumsy and hard to get the hang of and–and I bumped into one of the shelves at the shop and well…”

“And well?” you pushed, heart dropping from your throat after realizing it wasn’t as bad as you’d thought.

“Well, I hate to ask you. To be a burden, your old dad…”

“Dad,” you softened a bit, holding the receiver to your ear as you twisted the cord around your finger, waiting for him to just spit it out.

“Think you could come down for a month? Just to help me around the shop, get things set up for my stupid crutches? Maybe help me interview someone to putter around and do the stuff I can’t do just yet?”

“Yes. Of course I can. Dad, I really wish you’d ask someone else to come do the gutters. It’s not like you’re gonna all of a sudden need hearing aids or a walker just because you’re asking for some help.”

“Hey now, I manage just fine on my own. I raised you by myself, gutters ought to be a damn cake walk.”

You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, leaning against the wall in your kitchen, “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re lucky I never take vacations.”

“And what a trip, huh? Come stay down here in Hawkins for a month and maybe you’ll wanna stay this time,” you could hear his smile on the other end as you let out a small groan.

“I doubt it, but I’ll hear your pitch when I get down there.”

“Perfect. It’ll be good enough you won’t even have any questions at the end.”

“Mmhm.”

Silence again, but this time it was warm. Like you were sitting next to your dad on the old brown couch in the living room back home watching Family Ties and eating microwave whatevers while you laughed so hard you cried. Maybe you did miss it a little.

“Okay, dad. I gotta go, I’ll catch the bus down after I let work know.”

“Thanks, bub. I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s okay, I want to.”

“Alright. You know I love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

“You headed over to the shop? Can I send you with a coffee and cinnamon roll for the boss?” Georgie asked with a sweet smile, her long earrings dangling just below her jawline as she turned toward the pastry case.

“He doesn’t need anymore sugar, Georgie,” you chided, but your tone didn’t hold any heat as the older woman turned back around, cinnamon roll boxed up tidy in one hand and a to-go cup of black coffee in the other.

You leveled her with a look, but the smile tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. “Fine. But maybe make some croissants or something with less–” you waved your hand toward the sticky-sweet-frosting-coated rolls in the case, “–well, just less.” Both of you started laughing and Georgie gave you a wink.

“Okay, sure. I’ll see what I can whip up.”

“His heart thanks you,” you sighed, shaking your head and getting up from the counter. “I’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure,” leaving some cash on the counter you shouldered open the door, bell jingling brightly above you, and stepped out onto main street.

The sun was out, warming everything in the bright early morning light. You could already feel how it wanted to heat up, wanted to make your skin feel too hot and bright. Pink and red like ripe strawberries, wanted to kiss it and dot new freckles along your nose and cheeks. The ones you’d hated when you were younger, but liked now for whatever reason and even though it was September, summer was clinging on a bit longer refusing to let go, and down town was buzzing with activity. People were bustling around getting ready for the day, shops opening and setting out their signs on the sidewalk, pulling people in to browse and seek refuge in the late afternoon heat.

After the old antiques place closed up next to Family Video your dad was quick to jump on it and lease the space, seeing the potential it had and wanting to put action to his passion for books.

He and your mom divorced when you were young, too young to understand or ask questions or get lost in the whys and the only memory you had of her was a glowing, glittering thing. Dark, tight curls and lavender, eyes warm like burnt caramel, hugs pulled close and while you don’t remember you were at least thankful that it was a happy one.

Growing up you swore that love was real, swore you’d find someone to sweep you off your feet like they did in all those Disney movies, but as time spun on you realized that maybe love was a story people told themselves as a distraction. Like looking through magazines full of pictures of places far, far away and telling yourself someday you’d visit when you knew you really wouldn’t. Your dad, despite his own history, felt differently.

He thought love was a wonderful, all-consuming thing that wrapped itself around you like hot cocoa after being out in the snow. A beautiful give and take. Terrifying honesty and openness that would set you free once you surrendered and even though he had remained single after your mom he still believed it.

“Morning, bub! Oh coffee, thank god. And a cinnamon roll? Remind me to stop by the diner on the way home, Georgie’s a sweetheart.”

“Yeah well, I told her you don’t need anymore of this,” you said, shoving the box at him from across the front counter, “Or broken bones won’t be your only worry.”

“Hey, now. Let me have this,” he grumbled back, taking a drink of his coffee, but then his expression softened as realization came over him. “Ah, I forgot to tell you. It’s game night, so we’ll close up shop and just head over to the high school after,” he said casually, opening up the register.

“Game night?” you started, worried there was some weekly canasta game he’d failed to tell you about, but he laughed and waved you off.

“Game night. Basketball. You know, round orange ball? Throw it into a hoop?”

You firmed your lips into a line and rolled your eyes. “Yes. Okay. I get it. Are we cheering on anyone specific?” you asked expectantly, tossing your bag behind the counter, taking your name tag from the drawer and pinning it on your shirt.

“No, but if we didn’t go we’d be a disgrace to the whole community,” he stated very matter-of-factly and you shook your head.

“Okay, okay. Game night. Great, can’t wait.”

“Listen, I’ll buy us popcorn and soda and do the whole thing. Just like you’re back in high school,” he bribed and you looked at him skeptically over your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be back in high school.”

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad was it? Besides, we’ll see a couple of your old friends I’m sure.”

“Friends?” you felt your stomach flip over at the sudden rush of memories that flooded your mind right there on the spot.

Red licorice, filling the van with hazy smoke, juice too sweet and mixed with bad vodka, late nights floating weightless in pools while the moon hung overhead.

“Yeah,” your dad’s face scrunched up in thought, digging for names, and when it finally hit him he jabbed a finger at you. “Eddie Munson for one! He’s around here. And that Buckley girl, she manages Family Video now and…” his eyes lifted to the ceiling, thinking, and then, “Oh! God, I need more coffee. Steve, Steve Harrington. He took the coaching job last year. Best one we’ve had in a long time.”

Steve.

Steve Harrington.

Your brain felt like it had disconnected from reality. Like it was scrambling to try and figure out what exactly your dad had just told you and the look on your face was apparently making that all too obvious.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought you’d like to–”

“No! No that’s great,” you cut him off, trying to give him a big smile and thankfully he took it as you turned around to face the bookshelf again, “Can’t wait to catch up.”

Everything was a mixture of cheers and boos and the clock buzzing and the slap of the ball on the court and you tried to ground yourself in it all, but it felt like you were drowning. It was so familiar, but so foreign and as you watched the kids on the other side of the court you tried to remember what it was like. Laughing with each other or sneaking booze into paper soda cups or not caring at all being attached at the face in the stands.

You might have been able to get a grip on shit, might have waded through the night just fine, but there was something else that held you tight like a vice.

Messy brown hair, moles and freckles like tiny constellations scattered across his skin, the same old dirty pair of Blazers on his feet, the curve of his mouth, the way he propped his hand on his hip.

Steve.

Your best friend.

Was your best friend.

You knew you should’ve been watching the game, should’ve been paying attention so that you could hold at least a semi-decent conversation the next morning in the shop, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

Coach Harrington.

Was he the same as he’d been before you’d left? Smug and cocky, but all warm and soft underneath. Shotgunning a beer one minute and holding your hand tight and close in his the next. Singing loud enough in the car his voice cracked and broke until he fell apart into laughter and looked over at you with those eyes. Burnt caramel, warm honey, flecks of gold and green and deep and–

“Hell of a game! My god, paper’ll have a heck of an article tomorrow,” your dad’s voice shook you back to reality and when you looked back up at the scoreboard the time read 00:00.

“Yeah, yeah damn. Great game,” you laughed weakly and tried to smile at your dad, eyes flicking back over to the sidelines to see Steve and the rest of the team were gone. Because of course they were. The game was over.

“Well. Don’t feel like you gotta come straight home,” your dad said, giving your arm a squeeze, “I know you probably wanna catch up with your friends.”

“Dad–” you started, brows furrowing together as you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “I really don’t feel like we’re friends, it’s been years since–”

“Oh don’t be silly, time doesn’t matter,” he waved a hand dismissively at you and stood from the bench, a crutch under each arm, “Just go say hi already. Scaredy cat.”

“Excuse me–” you protested, offense all over your face as you got ready to dig into him, but it stalled on your lips as you heard the metal slam of a door across the gym. It was a knee jerk reaction to look up and as you did you wished you hadn’t.

Your eyes met Steve’s, his faded navy baseball hat working overtime to contain all that hair, and while it was only for a split second it felt like a lifetime. You’d been thinking all night about what you were going to do, what you’d say, and maybe you secretly hoped he’d give you a smile but you were met with something worse.

Indifference.

Not so much as a smile or a nod or half-hearted wave, his lips in a firm line, or was it a grimace? It couldn’t be, but then he was looking away and shoving open the gym door into the parking lot.

“Excuse you–” your dad retorted, but when you didn’t sass him back he waved a hand across your eye line. “Hey, you in there?”

“What?” fell out lamely and your head whipped back around.

“You were about to take me to school on something, but…” he drifted off, eyes flicking up to the door Steve had just left through.

“Oh, I just mean–it’s just–it’s been so long. You know? They’re probably busy and–”

“Bub, you don’t know until you try. You’re gonna want someone your own age to talk to while you’re in town. Look, I’m already driving you nuts,” he laughed and reached over to give your shoulder a little poke.

Rolling your eyes you jammed your hands into your pockets and jerked your head toward the door, “C’mon old man. You can drive me nuts at home.”

“Alright,” he chuckled and clumsily followed after, still getting the hang of his crutches. “But promise me you’ll get out every now and again while you’re here? Please?”

Looking down at the old gym floor covered in scuffs and dents and dings you sighed. Was this the wrong decision? Should you have stayed home? Just sent someone else to help out? “Okay. Sure. I promise,” you murmured opening the door for your dad and walking out into the night.

The next morning you were up again early, throwing on a pair of jeans and a band tee, Chucks beat up and snug on your feet. The exact opposite of what you were supposed to wear to work back in the city, but it was a surprisingly welcome change. No presentations to creative leadership, no manuscripts to screen, no deadlines and no phone on your desk ringing off the hook. Just the smell of books, the lilt of the bell on the door and too much time to think.

Think about last night. About how you still had nearly a month left in Hawkins. Had no idea how you were going to spend it and no idea why god’s name you were still thinking about him.

About Steve.

About the look, or non-look, he’d given you.

And while you couldn’t blame him, it didn’t make it sting any less.

Hand on your closet door you moved to shut it, but your eyes caught a flash of red. A box on the top shelf. You’d taken most everything with you when you moved to Indianapolis for college, but had apparently missed that.

Pulling it down you blew the dust off the top of it and lifted the lid slowly to find a pile of forgotten memories looking up at you. Throat tightening, a flood of unexpected emotions poured over you, wrapping themselves snug and warm around your heart.

Polaroids of a younger version of yourself grinning up through the frame, joint dangling from your lips, a pair of sunglasses perched on your nose. One of Steve and Eddie mid-jump into the quarry on the hottest day in July. Robin laughing, cheeks stuffed too-full with grapes on a dare to see how many she could fit in her mouth. Nancy’s tiny frame enveloped by Jonathan’s big arms, his hand outstretched to block the lens, both of them grinning like mad.

You felt a small laugh fall from your lips as you gently set the box on your bed, gathering the polaroids up and setting them aside to find more things at the bottom. An old half-smoked joint stub, a lighter, a button with “Nancy for President!” on it, movie tickets and a couple pieces of popcorn, an old Family Video name tag, and something bright hiding under a pair of 3D glasses. Reaching in, your fingers softly lifted it from the box.

Tiny little strings of thread twisted together in a messy braid. Your three favorite colors, purple, green and pink tangled together in a promise you’d made Steve all those summers ago and you felt your chest squeeze. Guilt. Regret.

“God, I’m terrible at this, it looks like shit,” Steve grumbled, tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as he tried to braid his strings together.

Both of you were sat on the floor of your room, knee to knee with your back against your bed, radio playing Pet Shop Boys in the background. The last rays of sunlight fell through your window and danced across the bare skin of your legs, fan on the ceiling pushing too-warm air around the room.

“It doesn’t look like shit, it’s fine–” you tried for reassurance, but the small smile playing on your lips gave you away.

“Fine. That’s not ‘good’ or ‘great’. It makes it sound like–” Steve started to protest, but then he glanced over to see your fingers deftly twisting together his favorite colors – yellow, blue and orange. “Christ, yes it does look like shit! Look at yours, are you kidding me?” he flung a hand out for emphasis and you let out a laugh.

“Shut up! I’ve been doing this since second grade or something stupid, cut yourself a break,” you reached across your lap to shove him, expression softening as he shook his head.

“No, no way. You can’t wear this. People will ask what idiot tried to make you a dumb friendship bracelet in the dark with two left hands,” and he started to ball it up, but your hands covered his, head dipping down to look at him properly.

“Steve, it’s not about what it looks like,” you chided gently and he huffed a sigh, but you gave him a little smile, “Best friends forever, right?”

“Best friends forever,” he mumbled back, your little motto, but when he looked up at you his frown softened.

Silence lingered then for a moment between the two of you, his eyes still looking into yours as you floated in the soft light that filled your room, your hands pressing into each other. The last bits of sun and summer holding you tight in its warmth.

Steve’s lips parted as he stared at you, the look in his eyes making you feel like all the air had been pulled from your lungs, like your room had fallen away and all that existed in that moment was you and Steve.

“D’you have to go?” he murmured.

“I–” you stuttered, suddenly unsure of your answer, waffling on what had been such a sure decision just a few of months ago. To get out of Hawkins. To find something new. Something away from Steve and leave all of this behind.

“Just stay.”

“Steve…” your voice was barely above a whisper, eyes looking and searching his as he untangled a hand from yours and settled it gently on your cheek.

“Stay,” he whispered and as he leaned in slow and steady you swore time stood still, his lips pressing into yours, warm and soft like they held summer and promises of forever.

“Didja fall in up there? Cos if you did, I can’t climb the stairs to help you, bub,” you sucked in a gasp, your dad’s voice pulling you out of the spiral you’d fallen into, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Hastily wiping your arms across your face you tossed the bracelet back into the box and shut the lid, shoving it back up on the shelf you’d found it on.

“Yeah! Sorry, just trying to find my other shoe,” you lied, voice wobbling a little as you hurried over to your dresser mirror to make sure you didn’t look like you’d been crying.

“Alright, meet you at the car!” he called up the stairs and you took in a breath, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s fine. You’re fine,” you whispered to your reflection.

And somehow you’d managed to gather yourself together before hopping into your rental car, driving you and your dad down the road to the diner for coffee before work. The sun was out again, but it didn’t hold as much heat as it had the day before and you opted to open the windows instead of cranking the AC.

“You sure you want it hot?” you asked your dad, shifting into park at the curb.

“Yes, I’m sure. Coffee is brewed hot, why would you cool it down?” he shot back indignantly and you huffed a laugh.

“Alright, no one’s judging, I just–” shutting your door you poked your head in through the window, “–it’s gonna be warm again today. Cold is nice sometimes!”

“Hot, please!” your dad yelled after you as you pulled the diner door open, waving him off with a dismissive hand.

“Mornin’, hon! The usual?” Georgie greeted you warmly, earrings dangling past her jawline and bright in the light from the windows.

“Yes, please, but make mine cold if you can?”

Saddling up at the counter, your fingers idly flipped the plastic pages of one of the menus while you waited, the sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen. It was odd, the comfort this place offered you, but it was needed this morning and you settled into it easily like a warm hug. Like seeing an old friend and you were so content you didn’t hear the bell on the door ring behind you, but the voice that followed was louder than your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Gigi! Need a coffee and bacon, egg on toast to-go this morning.”

You nearly fell off your stool to hide under the bar, but opted instead to be an adult and hide your face behind your arm, propping an elbow on the counter and tossing your gaze off in the opposite direction.

“Stevie! Lord have mercy, that game gave me a couple of new gray hairs,” the older woman teased playfully and the laugh he gave back made your stomach flip over.

“Sorry, we’ll do better next time, promise.”

“Good, you better. S’on me this morning.”

“G, you don’t have to do that–”

“Yes, I do! Don’t you fight me on that, I’ve got a mean south paw.”

Steve laughed again and you wanted to die as he sat on the stool one over from you, drumming his fingers on the counter and shaking his head, “Okay, okay. You win.”

“That’s right. I do,” and Georgie busied herself with getting his coffee, barking back his order to the cooks just as yours came through the bus window.

Shit. No way to leave undetected now.

“Alright, sweets. Here’s your dad’s coffee and I had Hal whip up a little whole wheat toast with scrambled eggs. Better than a cinnamon roll?” Georgie gave you a very pleased look and you felt like you were going to collapse in on yourself as you moved your hand away from your face to take the two coffees and box of food.

“Thanks, Georgie,” you mumbled sheepishly, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but you could feel him looking at you.

Clearing your throat you left a wad of cash on the counter before turning to leave, looking everywhere except that damn stool. You made it halfway to the door before his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Thought that was you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you wished running out of the diner had been an acceptable response to both the panic rising in your chest and Steve’s clipped tone, but you didn’t and instead turned around to finally face him.

“In the flesh,” you joked lamely and immediately wanted to kick yourself.

He was studying you as though he were looking for something. Eyes still warm like honey, mouth firmed in the same line they’d been pursed into the night before, brows unamused and pulled in at the middle. He didn’t laugh.

“Had enough of the ‘big city’?” he mocked, tongue jamming into his cheek as he watched you uncomfortably shift your feet on the checkered tile floor.

“Yeah, smells worse than cow shit if you can believe it,” you were shocked at how quickly you were thinking on your feet and almost grinned at him, but his reply knocked you down a peg or two.

“I could’ve told you that,” he grumbled, turning in his stool to look back at Georgie, the older woman flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. In fact most everyone else in the diner was watching now and you felt heat rise in your cheeks.

“Well, I’ll be here all month, so knock yourself out,” and before he could throw anything back at you, you hurried out the door to the car and didn’t look back.

The conversation with Steve, if you could even call it that, was all you could think about for the rest of the day and your dad knew something was up, but he didn’t push you on it. You had to go back and fix the books you’d put in the wrong place in your mess of distraction after lunch and when you finally came around the back of the counter to get a drink of what was mostly melted ice now than iced coffee, your dad gently prodded.

“Georgie say anything this morning?”

“Yeah. Said she’s only feeding you whole wheat toast from now on, so get used to it,” you grumbled and he smiled, gently grabbing your hand before you could stalk away to hide in the rows of books.

“Did anything else come up?” he fixed you with an expectant look and you frowned.

“No.”

“No?”

Closing your eyes you loosed a sigh and put your face in your hands. “Everyone here hates me,” came out muffled through your fingers and your dad let out a belly laugh.

“Hates you? Says who?”

“Everyone.”

“Bub, no one hates you,” he reached over to yank your hands away from your face and gave you one of his I’m dad, listen to me looks.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one running away from shit,” you argued back, folding your arms tight across your chest and his expression softened.

“Least you came back? I’d say that takes some courage,” he countered, lifting his brows for emphasis and poking you gently with the end of one of his crutches.

You frowned and he laughed again, reaching over to pull you into hug. “Listen. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Most of the time these things are cleared up with a simple conversation,” he said, holding you out at arm’s length.

“Simple conversation? Yeah I don’t think so–”

“You haven’t even tried,” he cut you off and gave you a stern look, “Y’know, I’m not as dumb as I look.”

“I didn’t say that–”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him. Even if it sucks at first, just try it.”

You sharply exhaled a short puff of air through your nose, looking down at the floor not wanting to give in, but you could feel your dad staring holes into you.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll try,” you conceded, kicking a toe into the base of the counter and your dad shoved your shoulder playfully.

“That’s the ticket, and you know I’m always here for advice,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips.

“No offense, but no thanks,” you teased, walking back to keep stocking the shelves and he called after you.

“I’m like, twenty-two years older than you are! I know a lot!”

“Sure you do, dad! I’m sure you do.”

Cleared up with a simple conversation.

Sure. Right. Of course. But where were you supposed to even have said conversation? How were you supposed to ask Steve if he wanted to talk? Just waltz up to him on the street and casually see if he wanted to have a sit down with you? There was no way you were going to be able to muster up the courage to approach him at the diner and after that fated morning you made sure to arrive before or after he grabbed his usual 7:30am pick-up.

It wasn’t until you were closing up shop again on Friday that your dad reminded you of the plans you’d made. Well, that Hawkins had made for you.

“Better giddy up, gonna miss tip off,” your dad was digging around in the counter drawer for the keys as you finished sweeping the entryway.

“Tip off?”

“Yeah,” he stopped his search long enough to give you a look and then went back to digging, “Game night.”

Oh, fuck. Right. Game night. Because all of Hawkins shut down at five on Fridays for basketball and god forbid you miss it.

“Think I’ll stay home,” you mumbled, eyes on the floor, but you could feel the judgement your dad was throwing across the shop at you.

“And miss out on quality time with your old man? Before I’m all wrinkly and need an actual wheel chair?”

“That’s not fair,” you flicked your eyes up to frown at him, pointing a finger for emphasis and he grinned.

“You drive, I’m a little–” he shook a crutch at you and it was like you could physically feel yourself giving in.

“As soon as you get rid of those? I’m gone,” you grumbled and he laughed, an Aha! coming from behind the counter as he finally yanked the keys from the drawer.

“Lock up, I’ll start hobbling,” tossing the keys at you, you barely caught them and as soon as his back was turned you stuck out your tongue. What? Maturity is overrated.

The gym was packed. Your dad had failed to mention Hawkins was playing their rival team from the next town over and you tried to get a grip on shit. It took everything in you to not look at Steve as the starting line up was introduced, and you managed somehow, but once the game started you couldn’t help yourself.

Stealing a glance, you felt your pulse flutter against your neck. God he looked good. Same faded navy baseball cap snug over his mess of brown hair, hand propped on his hip as he yelled plays from the sidelines, jaw clenched on the wad of gum in his mouth and you grumbled under your breath, but your heart told a different story as it hammered against your ribs.

You sat with your arms folded across your chest, determined to be unhappy and miserable for the entirety of the game, but somehow every time Hawkins made a three-pointer or nailed all of their free throws after a foul you felt yourself softening until there were only two minutes left. The game was all tied up and you were a screaming mess.

“C’mon!” you yelled, hands cupped around your mouth as you stood up with the rest of the fans, “I can play better than these guys!”

Your dad had to bite back a laugh as he did his best to ignore you, trying not to bring attention to how invested you’d become. The rival team hit another bucket from the three-point line and you groaned along with everyone else, Hawkins down by two with 0:30 on the clock.

The point guard on the other team called a timeout and usually everyone would sit down, but the entire gym was still on their feet, anxious and watching as time ran out quickly.

Steve huddled his team up, gathering them around his clipboard and you craned your neck to try and see what was jotted down, but it was covered up by all the heads in the way. Watching as he talked to the boys you noticed how he was firm, but still soft. Decided, but encouraging, and when the buzzer went off you could just make out what he yelled at the team.

“Remember, it’s not about what it looks like! Long as you’re trying!”

Your breath caught in your throat.

It’s not about what it looks like.

Your words.

And you were so caught up in it all you didn’t hear the crowd when Hawkins hit the last three-pointer to end the game with a win. Didn’t hear your dad cheering next to you so loudly his voice cracked. Didn’t feel the bleachers shaking with all the jumping and bustling about. All you could see was Steve and as the team rushed him after the win he looked up and met your gaze, a flicker of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“A photo finish, scout!” your dad grabbed your shoulder, other hand throwing a fist into the air, “Good game, boys!”

“Oh,” fell out, the sound of everything rushing back in against your eardrums, and you quickly put your fingers to your mouth to whistle, “Good game, Tigers!”

“Still don’t have to come home right away,” your dad was looking back over at you with a knowing smile on his face, “Georgie’ll give me a ride.”

You bit in your bottom lip, wishing you were unsure of what you wanted, but your eyes looked over at Steve and you knew what your answer was going to be.

Simple conversation.

“Yeah. Alright. I’ll stay, but don’t get too excited,” you grumbled, cramming your hands into the pockets of your jeans as the gym started to clear out.

“Great! I mean–cool,” your dad tried to recover, tried to not sound too excited, but his outburst gave him away. The next look you fixed him with was enough of a cue and he hobbled away after Georgie, making his way out with the rest of the crowd and leaving you there awkwardly in the stands.

Your eyes scanned the gym and couldn’t find Steve, but it was the same as it’d happened last time. He was gone soon as the game finished and then reappeared after a little while. Probably giving the boys a post-game run down or something, so you tried to make yourself look busy.

Reading the plaques on the walls, looking at the Hawkins hall-of-fame jerseys hung up in the rafters, the signed championship balls in cases along the walls, including the one signed by Lucas Sinclair.

A smile pulled at your lips and you put a hand on the glass, reading all the names one at at time, pausing just a little longer at Lucas’ signature. He was always so sweet.

“Taking a stroll down memory lane?” someone spoke up behind you, startling you a bit as you sucked in a gasp, and when you turned around to see who it was you wished you hadn’t.

Steve’s voice was a little less harsh than it’d been earlier in the week, but he still wasn’t smiling as he stood there in the empty gym looking at you like he was trying to dissect things and you felt your chest squeeze.

“High school, the best days of your life,” you mock swooned and he cracked just a tiny bit, the smallest little smirk, and you held onto it. Tucked it into your back pocket and saved it for later.

“Yeah. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” he retorted, feeding off your sarcasm and then turned abruptly and walked out the side door.

You stood there for a minute, confused. Didn’t he just agree with you? But then he was poking his head back in through the doorway, looking expectantly at you with those warm, brown eyes.

“Are you coming or…?”

Shit, you muttered and half-jogged to catch up as he disappeared out of view of the door frame.

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