#stared at this for so long that I don’t like it anymore but oh well lmao

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Ten

Summary: Azriel and Y/n both are left reeling from the fight and revelations that morning.

Warnings: ANGST!!!! Shes a little spicey, Smut (oral, f receiving), this is probably the longest chapter yet

Series Masterlist

-Part Ten-

Azriel was gone until well after dinner, she’d eaten alone in the dining room when the house had seemed sick of her wallowing and forced a plate of food in front of her. Y/n was half tempted to refuse but she felt the scolding presence and decided arguing wasn’t worth it.

The fight had drained from her in the hours she’d spent in that seat, staring at the wall. She didn’t have it in her, the fire from her argument with Azriel dying out, turning to ice in her chest until she felt nothing at all.

Once she finished every last bite of the meal, the house whisked away the plates and she was left with nothing again, just that cold empty silence. She felt the fire tugging on her, felt it like a faint echo of what she’d felt this morning, begging to be rekindled, to keep fighting until she won, that was her mother’s temper, her father’s resilience. But she wasn’t them, she wasn’t strong enough to be them, her parents had taken on the world and won, fighting for a dream that they got to achieve. Y/n? Y/n had lived through nothing but peace. She was trained as a warrior, she could fight and win, but what was there to fight for? To get home, to fight some faceless god that wanted her dead for a sin that wasn’t her own, to die anyway? What was the damned point of it all.

Alone, she was so fucking alone, and it was eating her alive.

“You’re still up.”

Her heart lurches in her chest, “Gods be damned, don’t do that.”

Azriel glides across the room, in that deadly silent way, spymaster indeed. She hadn’t even felt his approach like she usually did, that heavy feeling of being under his gaze, that feeling in her heart that whispered, he’s close. It was like it was suppressed, submerged under water, still there, but so so faint.

“I’m sorry.” He gives her a small grin that says quite the opposite, “Did I startle you?”

“Not at all,” she says, frowning up at him, “Where have you been? Babysitting not fun enough for you anymore?”

It’s easy to throw on that mask of sarcasm and arrogance, anything to hide the crushing weight on her shoulders.

“It was never fun to begin with.” He shrugs, taking a seat across from her, a glass of deep red wine appearing on the table before him, “I was dealing with court matters.”

She leans across the table and plucks the glass into her own hands, “Sounds riveting.”

The wine is sweet on her tongue as she drinks deeply, her eyes closed and her head tilted back. It soothes some of the rough edges of her, chips away at that ice.

She sighs as she finishes the glass, her eyes finding the male in front of her, who’s hazel gaze is firmly planted on her sighing lips. There’s a darkness in his gaze, different than the usual shadows, it’s deeper, it kindles that fire in her, a singular spark that could turn into a blaze. Maybe, it would be enough to burn away the thoughts that threaten to drag her down, down, down.

“That was mine,” he says quietly.

She smiles sweetly, “Was it? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

His eyes don’t move from her lips, “I’ve had a long day, Princess.”

“Oh do tell.” The glass in her hand fills on its own, a gift from the house, she sips slowly. “I do hope you weren’t sulking all day.”

Azriel leans forward, arms resting on the table between them. Earlier it had felt like the only barrier keeping them from tearing into each other, now, it felt much the same.

“Sulking over what, exactly?” His head tilts to the side, examining her, “Over a stubborn female who’s ready to run head first into her death?”

And just like that the fire turns from a gentle heat to a roaring in her blood, and not in the way she wanted it to. There was something about the way he looked at her, the infuriating way he’d looked all morning during their fight, that has her fire burning again. Fight, fight, fight. She wanted to fight and burn and take all of this storming emotion inside of her out on him, and it would seem he was finally ready to do the same.

“I see you’ve still got your panties in a twist over this,” she grins, showing off her canines, “Did you think you could just kiss me and I’d fall at your feet and let you go over protective fae male on me?”

His eyes drop to her lips, “I’d think you’d have wanted to actually survive long enough to make it home to your family.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she snaps, “But you and your busybody court won’t get out of my way.”

“So you can get yourself killed?” His gaze is darker, filled with that rage and something more, “So you can throw yourself in front of a vengeful god that wants you dead, leaving the portal open to it, get all of us killed in your reckless, idiotic, selfish attempt.”

He’s right, she knows that, whatever god has it out for her won’t stop until she’s dead, and after that, who knows what it will do with the lock. She sees his reasoning, she understands it, but she’s geared for a fight and that fire fuels her.

“If you’d let me try,” she snarls, “give me the damned book and figure out how to open the right gate-“

“No.” His voice is soft, a simmering heat lacing it, “You are not going anywhere near that book, you are not trying that fucking gate again, you are not leaving-“

“Leaving what, who? Leaving you?” There’s a raging fire in her eyes, in her blood, in the pit of her stomach, it begs for her to burn with it, she chases the feeling so she doesn’t feel the emptiness from before. “Was my mouth so good that you can’t stand to let me go?”

That narrow focus on her mouth sends a thrill through her, “Is it so shocking that I actually care about your wellbeing, you absolute fucking brat.”

Her grin is feline, “I have a feeling you like brats, shadowsinger.”

Azriel is standing, leaning over the table, wings flared in the perfect picture of a wrathful god. Her eyes skate over him, down those sculpted arms to the hands that look ready to wring her neck. He could easily wrap one of his large hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her, could make her see stars.

When her eyes travel back up to his, she could melt with the heat in them. This is exactly what she wanted, rile him up, get him to either punch her or fuck her, she didn’t quite care which, only that he made her feel something other than nothing.

“Listen, Princess.” Gods his voice was gravely, laced with anger and something that made her toes curl in her boots. “I see what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”

“And what exactly am I doing, Azriel” she lets her voice drop low when she says his name, lifting that glass of wine to her mouth.

His hand snaps out, practically ripping the glass from her hand, “You think you can get under my skin, make me angry enough, make me want to put you in your damned place.”

She was on fire, burning and burning. A noise almost slips off her tongue as he turns the glass, placing his mouth directly on the spot hers had been, and throws the whole thing back, the strong column of his throat on perfect display to her. A primal part of her wants to sink her teeth into the flesh and leave her mark on him.

Azriel slams the glass down on the table, a crack forming in its stem, “You want me to make you feel something, you want to act like a brat to hide how fucking scared and lonely you feel.”

The heat stops, everything stops as he continues, “You want me to be your gods damned distraction from that fucking void in your chest.

“Fuck you,” she snarls, standing to copy his stance, leaning across that table like she’d jump it and tear his throat out instead of laying her claim, “you’re a piece of shit, shadowsinger.”

He leans in closer, close enough she can smell the wine on his breath, “I’ll take you when you’re done being a coward, Princess.”

And like it meant nothing, that soul baring sentence, he turns and stalks out of the room, shadows trailing behind him like they were trying to stay.

The glass is flying through the air, shattering on the arch of the doorway, and those lingering shadows scatter.

He felt like he was that glass, exploding into a million pieces. It took every ounce of self control to keep walking, to keep dampening that bond he could so strongly feel now that he was aware of it. He could feel her on the other side of that tendril of shadow, raging, desperate, scared, and lonely. So gods damned lonely.

Azriel understood the feeling, he’d felt it all day since the moment Rhys has spoken those words, his mate. He’d collapsed, no longer able to support himself and he’d spent those agonizing hours crying, letting Cassian and Rhys bear his weight. How cruel was fate to bring her to him, this female of pine and snow and fire that reminded him of home, this female that would eventually have to leave him.

His mate, a storm of ice, wind, and fire on the other side of that tendril of shadow that connected them. His mate, the warrior who’d handed him his ass on more than one occasion, who could get beneath his skin more than anyone he’d ever known. His mate, the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

He’d felt her from the River house, the way her thoughts had spiraled out of control, the rage draining into nothingness, it scared the shit out of him, enough that he’d started to pull himself together, using his brothers to haul himself off the floor. It had taken longer than he would’ve liked to make himself presentable, to force his wings to work to take him to her, to dampen that bond so she wouldn’t feel the agony he was in.

When he’d seen her there, broken and lost, he needed to get her back, desperately needed her to come back from that edge. He was willing to shove his own agony into a box and put on a mask. He tugged once on that bond, begging her to fight it. And when she'd started to come back, when she started to play with him, he kept going, stoking that fire anyway he could, he brought back the rage from that morning, the desire in his blood, and they fought and pushed at each other.

He felt that primal urge to claim her right then and there, but he couldn't. He could feel her on the other side, feel the lust and fire, feel the despair hidden beneath. She wanted a distraction, not him, she wanted to hide from everything she was feeling and Azriel desperately wanted to do it, to take her over that table, over and over, to scream that she was his mate, to claim her as his. Instead he’d called her a coward, he really meant it about himself.

Azriel was terrified, to bare his soul only to have it ripped away through a gate across the stars. He would fall at her feet and she would still leave him, he wasn’t enough to make her stay, he knew that. She had a destiny, she would be a Queen in a far away land, and she would one day find a consort who would be able to stay by her side, love her, cherish her.

He felt sick. Barely making it to his room and into the bathroom before he heaved the contents of his stomach into the bowl. Azriel couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the spasms in his abdomen, couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face.

The mother was cruel, so very cruel.

Y/n couldn’t go back to her room, couldn’t be that close to him, she wasn’t sure what she would do if she was. Would she take her dagger to his throat, would she take all the rage in her blood and kill him, or would she cave into the desperate need to kiss him, to turn that anger into passion. Both options were bad ideas, enough that she begged the house to show her to a room as far away as possible.

When she woke with the sunrise, the unfamiliar room nearly sent her into a panic before the night before crashed back into her. All the pain and longing, the fire and rage, the numbness and loneliness. It was to much, these feelings, she felt like she was drowning in them, she needed to get out, get as far away as possible.

She was dressed and out the door, practically running down the halls to the closest balcony. The door was already open for her, the breeze welcoming her as she shifted and leapt of the edge, flying into the sunrise beyond.

She didn’t turn back, didn’t look to see the male who’s gaze she could feel like a brand across her back.

Two days had passed since Azriel watched her take off from the balcony across the house. He’d nearly flown after her, with how fast she was he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to catch her. But instead he just watched, watched as his mate flew as fast and as far away from him as she possibly could.

He’d waited for hours, scanning the skies for that majestic hawk form, but she didn’t come back. The bond grew fainter and fainter as she drifted farther and farther away. That was when the panic had set in. She didn’t know these lands, the creatures within, the fae who lurked in the shadows. Y/n was a warrior, a talented one at that, yet Azriel couldn’t help the fear that she would be hurt.

Cassian had found him on that ledge, had forced him inside, had forced him to eat, to sit down and gods damned breathe for a minute. And he’d stayed with him the rest of the day, through the night and the day after. The only thing that kept Azriel from losing control completely was that thread, no matter how faint, he could still feel her on the other side.

She was alive, burning, those swirling emotions screaming down the bond. Anger, despair, loneliness, longing, fear, so many emotions that mirrored everything Azriel felt. He wondered how much of it was her and how much of it was him.

By the end of the second day, sheer exhaustion had him falling into bed, his brother closing the door behind him to go find his own bed, his mate in it. Azriel was to tired to say anything, even the thank you Cassian deserved for staying with him, for holding him together.

Sleep took him, and he welcomed the blissful darkness.

Wake up, wake, she’s back, wake up, she’s here, outside, back. His body jolts, startled awake by the whispering shadows around his head. Even without them telling him, he knew she was back, could feel her close on the other side of that tether. Closer and closer she grew, coming down the hall towards him. He didn’t think, didn’t stop, just ran to the door, hauling it open to see her standing there, her back turned to him, hand resting on her own door.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

His voice is gravely, still heavy with sleep and lingering emotions that comes to the forefront as soon as her scent hits him.

“None of your business.” It lacks her usual snark, no heat behind it, “It’s late, I’m tired.”

His hand moves on its own, fingers wrapping around her bicep and pulling, rougher than he meant to be but in that moment he didn’t have it in him to care. He’d spent the last two days worrying, scared shitless over where she could be, he couldn’t control the fierce heat that rose in his blood.

She looks up at him, eyes ice cold, “What do you want?”

“Where have you been?” He repeats, each word sharp and short, “You can’t just disappear for two days and expect me to just-“

“Oh fuck off,” she snarls, “I don’t owe you shit, shadowsinger.”

He can feel the spark of anger in her, and it mirrors his own. She’d ran away, flown off to who knows where, and left him. She left him.

“It’s a simple question, Princess.” He pulls her closer to him, looking down at her, “Why do you have to make everything so difficult.”

She gives him one of those sweet little smiles that makes him see red, makes the reins on his control snap. His hand shoots up, wrapping behind her neck and gripping a handful of her hair, pulling so she’s looking up at him. Her mouth opens, most likely to yell at him, to snarl and snap those lethal teeth at his throat, but he doesn’t give her the chance.

Their lips crash together, viciously devouring each other. Azriel pours every emotion he had felt in the past few days into it, the heat and anger, the despair and loneliness, the desire. He decided then that he didn’t care, he would take what she would give him, would be her distraction, would lay his soul bear for her, would let her rip his heart from his chest to bring it with her when she left him behind. He didn’t care that it would kill him to let her leave, to let her leave and never know that he was her mate, he didn’t care, he needed her, needed to feel her, to worship her.

He holds her to him, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other gripping her hair to keep her exactly where he wants her. Her hand grips his arm, nails digging into the flesh, her other grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him impossibly closer.

There was no softness, no gentle touch and soft passion, it was hard and painful. Her teeth drawing blood from his lip where she bites him, his hand bruising her sides where he holds her.

“You’re a fucking prick,” she snarls against him, pulling away just enough that he can still feel her lips against his.

The hand in her hair roughly pulls, forcing her back so that he can look her in the eyes, he notes the small moan that she tries to hold back, “You’re infuriating, Princess.”

She presses closer to him and he almost hisses at the contact, “I can feel just how infuriated you are, shadowsinger.”

He lets go of her hair, reaching down to her thighs to hoist her up. Her legs wrap around his hips as he presses her body into the door behind her. The sound she makes almost brings him to his knees. He can feel her pressed against him, his cock straining in his leathers.

“I can’t stand you.” Her head falls back against the door, letting him trail his lips and tongue down her throat, “You insufferable male."

He finds her pulse and nips at the sensitive spot. It draws a heady sigh from her lips, he does it again just so he can hear that sweet sound. She claws at his back as he wraps is lips around that spot, writhing against him as he leaves a deep purple mark. Azriel has to grip her thighs even harder to keep her still, or he’d lose his mind completely and take her against the wall.

“Gods,” she pants, “Azriel please.”

He kisses that claiming mark, “Please what, Princess?”

She lets out a soft growl, pushing his face away from her neck. Her lips find his again, her nails digging painfully into his cheek. He groans into it and holds her up with one arm, using the other to unlatch the door. It swings open and he takes them inside, slamming it shut behind him. Only the soft moon light illuminates the space, Azriel doesn’t need it to find her bed.

He practically throws her onto the center of it, grinning at the feral hiss she lets out, “I’m not a damned rag doll, you bastard.”

Y/n props herself up on her elbows, looking up at him with those eyes on fire. She looks delicious in the soft light, hair a mess, lips swollen, that mark on her neck a deep dark purple. A sick sense of purely male pride overwhelms him, she would walk around with that bruise for days, and everyone would know she belonged to him.

“No of course not,” he smirks, slowly crawling onto the bed, over her, caging her in, “A rag doll wouldn’t talk back this much.”

“I hate you,” she sighs, glaring up at him.

“That’s fine.” It wasn’t, it was the opposite of fine. “You can hate me all you want.”

He doesn’t let her respond, doesn’t let her wield that poison tipped tongue to open the wound in his heart anymore. Instead, his scarred hands grip the soft material of her shirt and rips.

Azriel groans at the sight, and Y/n gasps as the chilled air drifts across her exposed chest. Soft and perfect, large and heavy, Azriel takes her in, the valley between that leads down to her belly, the curve of her waist, he devours her with his eyes. Her arms lift to cover herself but his fingers wrap around her wrists and pins them roughly above her head. He wouldn’t let her hide from him.

“Beautiful, so gods damned perfect,” he growls, leaning down to capture one of the peaks in his mouth.

Her back arches off the bed, pressing closer to his tongue, to his teeth that pinch the little bud, drawing a sharp gasp from her. He keeps her wrists in one hand, the other trailing down to her chest, gripping the soft flesh in his palm and squeezing. He groans against her, keeping his hold on her wrist despite the way she writhes and pulls against him. The most devastatingly melodic sounds fall from her lips, moans and pleading sighs.

“What do you want, Princess?” He asks, trailing kisses across her soft skin, leaving those claiming bruises as he goes, “Tell me what you want.”

“More,” she groans, hissing when he takes a nipple between his fingers, squeezing and rolling it without mercy, “More, I need more, I need to touch you.”

He grins, “Don’t be greedy, Princess.”

She growls and pulls against the hold on her wrists, desperately trying to break free of his iron grip. Of course she’d fight him, even now when he was ready to lay the world at her feet, she would fight him. He lets her win, lets her rip her hands from his, lets her use those claws to rip at his shirt, tearing it from his body like he’d done to her.

“Did that make you feel better?” He taunts, smirking at the way her eyes take him in.

“Shut up.”

Her hands trace the tattoos across his chest, nails dragging across him with just enough pressure to draw a hiss from his lips. Violent, wicked, beautiful. She was perfect, so damned perfect.

He drops his lips to the valley between her breasts, kissing down the plane of her stomach while his fingers deftly work at the ties of her leathers. Her hands drag through his hair, tugging at the strands as she gasps and moans at every touch.

Azriel makes quick work of her leathers, roughly tugging them down her thighs, throwing them behind them without care. Her scent washes over him, sweet arousal that has him growling low in his chest. The delicate black fabric covering her center is easy to tear off her body, revealing all of her to him.

“Look at you,” he groans, sitting back on his heels so he could see all of her, “Perfect, absolutely perfect.”

“I told you I was your type,” she breathes, that saccharine on her lips.

Azriel shifts, placing himself directly between her legs, his scarred hands pushing apart her thighs so he could see her dripping for him. His fingers dig into her strong thighs, more bruises for her to wear.

“Az,” she whines, glaring through her heavy lidded eyes, “don’t just stare, do some-“

Her pleas turn into desperate moans as he drops his head to her, laying down between her thighs so he can properly worship her. He runs is tongue directly over her center, tasting her like she was his last meal to savor. So impossibly sweet, her taste has him growling against her.

“Fuck, Az,” Y/n practically screams, rolling her hips as his tongue circles the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

He could do this for hours, flattening his tongue against her, sucking, biting, bringing out those noises that sound like music to his ears. The hands in his hair pull and push like she can’t tell if she needs him closer or to stop, he has to pin her to the bed with his arm to stop her from writhing away.

He can feel her on the other side of the bond no matter how hard he tries to dampen in, can feel the intense pleasure, it ripples through him, making him strain against his leathers uncomfortably. He has to press his hips into the bed to relieve some of the pain of it.

“Gods damnit,” she gasps, “Az, I- fuck.”

He’s half tempted to taunt her for the way she stumbles over the words, but to do that he’d have to take his mouth off of her and he wasn’t willing to do that. Instead, he takes is free hand, softly tracing it up her thigh, until it’s posed at her entrance. He uses a single scarred finger, dragging it through her wetness. Her hips desperately try to chase the digit and he laughs against her, sending a shiver through her at the vibration.

“Please,” she begs, and it’s the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, “Az, please.”

Azriel doesn’t hesitate to plunge into her, groaning at the feeling, grinding his cock into the bed. She’s moaning and cursing as he curls his finger to find that spot inside that would make her see stars, that would have her coming undone on his tongue. When she screams his name, he knows he’s found it and he keeps brushing the spot over and over as his mouth devours her clit. He adds a second finger, the tight stretch around them nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“Az, don’t stop,” Y/n gasps, head thrown back in pleasure, “please I-“

There on the other side of that tendril of shadow he feels the band in the pit of her stomach tighten and tighten. His tongue flattens against her, his fingers curl, and that band snaps.

He doesn’t stop, keeps rolling his tongue over her, keeps moving his fingers as the shocks run through her, his arm pinning her down as she writhes beneath him. Wave after wave after wave until she’s pulling away from him, trying to escape the pleasure that slowly turns into delicious pain.

“Az, please,” Y/n sobs, “I can’t, fuck, please.”

It takes more effort than he’s willing to admit to pry himself away, the way she gasps as his fingers pull out of her makes him want to go right back in. Addictive, she is absolutely addictive.

Y/n goes limp beneath him, panting like she’d ran a marathon, he’s half tempted to tease her for that too if she didn’t look so tired. Eyes heavy like she was fighting to stay awake.

It only hits him then that she had been out, Mother knows where, for days, flying far enough away that he could barely feel her through the bond. She had to be exhausted, and Azriel had throughly worn out any energy she might have had left.

He pulls away, tugging down the rumpled sheets. She doesn’t acknowledge what he’s doing, not until he’s carefully wrapping his arms around her, one behind her back the other below her legs. She’s almost limp in his arm as he gently lays her at the head of the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asks, voice hoarse, “What about you?”

His cock was begging for attention, begging for her hand, for her mouth, for her cunt. He’d need to take care of himself to get rid of the aching need.

Azriel brings the duvet up to her chin, “I’m fine, Princess. You need to sleep.”

“But-“

He grins down at her, leaning down to brush his lips across her cheek, “Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet. I have a whole list of ways to ravish you. You’ll be begging me to let you sleep.”

A soft whine, “Az, I want-“

“Sleep, Princess.” He stands, moving towards the door, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Azriel has to force himself to take each step away from her when everything in him is screaming for him to turn around and take everything she had to offer. His shadows plead with him to stop, to do just that, pulling back towards her against the tight reins he keeps on them.

“Az.” The softest whisper, he almost doesn’t hear it, “Stay, please.”

Y/n looks at him, those eyes still heavy with sleep and an emotion so raw, so open, that he can’t help it when he says, “Of course, Princess.”

Tag list

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#these two have zero idea how to properly communicate #gone is that soft early morning talk #we’re here for the pure horniness #also I have written smut like once before so let me know if this is trash or not #you cannot convince me that Azriel is not a brat tamer #Rhys was wrong when he said Az is not the ravishing type #acotar #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin #not again

[gothushi]

pressure

pairing: rob x photographer!reader

warnings: none

note: welcome to my rob mini series!! i’ll update parts as they come

this is part 1! | part 2 (not out yet)

———————♡

Setting up camp is.. interesting to say the least. Michelle and James are arguing. About what? You’re not sure. Their words are a quiet background noise as you set up your own tent, on the edge of camp, whilst the others do the same. John is getting a table set up, his research items and different notes being scattered around as he begins to document some things.

The distant arguing continues whilst you grab your camera, attaching a different lens and putting your bag into your tent, walking to the outer edge of camp by the treeline. Lifting it to your face, you begin to get a few shots of your acquaintances. Some of John writing in his notebook, of Lisa and Tim setting up the tent they’ll share, Rob getting a small fire started, taking way too many just to get the right shot. It’ll take hours to go through them all once back at the hotel.

Focused on a shot of the treeline, just getting the edge of a few tents in the shot, you pan back around. Your feet stretch with the way you’re crouched, muscles tired after long hours of hiking, when you notice you don’t see Rob by the fire anymore, just John. Camera being pulled from your face, the looming figure beside you makes your heart jolt.

“Christ, make some damn noise next time.” You startle, huffing a breath of air, tilting your head up to look at Rob. A small laugh breaks out of him, sending butterflies fluttering in your gut.

“I thought it would be funny to sneak up on you.” The sound of James and Michelle arguing gets a bit louder, and it seems as though Rob was searching for an escape from their tension. “I couldn’t be over there another minute listening to those two. How’s the photos coming?”

You falter for just a moment, glancing at your camera before craning your neck back up to him, “Oh um- they’re coming good, the company wants me to get plenty of shots of everyone and where we camp.”

“I bet they do,” Rob’s blues take a glance at the argument further away, before back down to you as he fights the grin forming on his face, “how many pictures do you need of them bitching at each other?” The comment pulls another laugh out of you as you lift your camera again, zooming in and focusing on John as he’s jotting down some notes, bent over his table.

“I’d like to keep it at zero. But if they’re like this the entire trip..” Michelle has been on James’ ass since you all met up, nitpicking the way he acts, the questions he asks. Granted, sometimes he isn’t very professional but this is a new experience for him and personally you enjoy his enthusiasm compared to Michelle’s bluntness. Rob gives a rare chuckle, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you.

“I’m sure James will forget about this in like.. ten minutes.” He observes you for a moment before talking again, “You’re always taking so many pictures. Why so many? Why not just get a few of the entire group?”

“Why so- well, I have to be picky. I snap like ten photos of a singular moment but they’re still all- different.” You look up at him, neck craning at you explain, “Nothing can be captured twice, whether it’s a specific position, feeling, the lighting, so I take a lot when I do capture stuff and once I go through them all I can hand pick the ones that-..” You pause, face beginning to flush when you realize you started to word vomit, “Sorry. Basically, I’m picky.”

“No it’s okay.” Rob assures, the smile on his face still there, those butterflies in your belly still there. “It’s just-.. Interesting you find the value in capturing those individual moments- capturing time.” He shifts his weight on his feet, hip cocked out to one side, arms crossed but he seems.. relaxed.

Standing to your full height, staring down at you camera, you continue, “You like experiencing the moments. I like experiencing them as well, don’t get me wrong, but I like capturing them too. Having physical proof of that moment or time.. is nice.”

“You like documenting things.” Rob muses aloud. He’s still a bit withdrawn, but this is the most he’s engaged with any of the group when it wasn’t necessary besides John. He seems to be thinking about your words, “You like having physical proof of things that are gone otherwise?”

A huff of a laugh escapes your lips, “If you’re making fun of me now, then you’d faint if you seen the bookshelf in my living room. Half of it is photo albums.” You play on the screen of your camera, adjusting some lighting settings.

“Why so attached to the past?” He asks. His attention wanes to the other two still being snappy with each other, struggling to put up their tent as John steps in to help. “I get having momentos sure, but why the obsession with documenting everything?” His words aren’t harsh, just merely curious. It’s obvious to him that this job, the act of photography itself, means a lot to you.

“Not really obsessed but-..” You think for a moment, eyes squinting in the sunlight as you lift your camera up again, “more like.. I want the physical memories. Everything’s become so digital that… I mean if I have kids in the future and then they have kids, I want to have things to pass down to them, and when I’m older I’ll want this proof of everything I’ve experienced.” Rob turns toward you, his eyes squinting from the same ray of setting sunlight, seeming genuinely intrigued.

“So you’re a romantic?” The words leave him with a little smile over his pretty lips. “You know, I can’t say I’ve ever thought about how I’d like to prove my time in this world. I’ve always tried to live more in the present.”

Color blooms on your cheeks as he hits the nail on the head, you are very much a romantic. “Sometimes what I do is just capturing the moment, taking a simple photo to be used for stock or something.” Your shoulders shrug, eyes narrowing overtop your camera as Michelle seems to still be arguing with James whilst John sets their tent up.

A few paces away, their little argument is continuing on, but Rob seems eager to just not pay much attention to it. “I guess I can see the appeal.” He muses, eyes trained on you, “So you keep albums with these photos? Do you frame them?”

You nod, pulling the camera away from your face. No use taking photos of them fighting. “I frame some. Only really special ones. But I have albums for different jobs or trips, family stuff.”

The sun is setting, just barely peeking through the trees and lighting up the clearing the group settled to camp in. “Makes sense, how many albums do you have?”

Letting out a heavy breath, a hint of a laugh on it, you shrug, “God I dunno, I don’t think I’ve ever counted.”

“Over ten?”

“Definitely.” Another nod and laugh from you, turning to look up at him. He stands at least a foot taller.

“You realized that’s abnormal, right? Most people don’t even think about keeping one physical album.”

“That’s the point!” You defend, “No one really keeps physical photos anymore! It’s all digital. And, while digital is great and all, it takes one mistake for it all to be gone in an instant.”

His eyebrows raise, really listening, actually interested, “So you’re stockpiling photos because you’re.. afraid of breaking your laptop?”

A deadpan look crosses your face, staring up at him, “Yes, that’s the entire reason I went to college and studied for this to be my job for the rest of my life.” The words leave you sarcastically as you power off your camera.

“That’s one way to look at it.” A chuckle leaves Rob, arms still crossed over his broad chest. His eyes glance back to the others to find all tents up, everyone beginning to gather around the fire he started before, “Ready to join the others?”

With a glance up at him, he gestures for you to go first, and follows behind as you go to join the rest of the group. It’s been a long day, between finding out the area you were meant to camp and survey had been totally deforested, finding one of the men from the logging company, to getting ditched by one of the guides, Carlos, you’re all definitely tired. James films some more whilst you all sit around the fire and have something to eat, making low conversation between mainly James and whoever he asks a question to. Bidding everyone goodnight as they scatter to their tents, fire dulled down to just hot embers, you go to sleep.

—

A low growling wakes you, your watch says 3:27AM, and the nightlife of the jungle is just as loud as it is in the daytime. Shuffling around in your sleeping bag, groggy, your ears strain to listen. Something’s stomping around the camp, sniffing, huffing, growling even, and it doesn’t sound familiar to any larger predators you’ve heard before. It sets your nerves alight, some instinctive feeling of fear building in your gut. But thankfully, it goes away quickly. The footsteps and clattering of it knocking some of the metal camping items fades away to the usual jungle life noises, animals chattering or sounding out different calls. The day was tiring enough that it lulls you back to sleep quite quickly.

—

Morning comes soon enough, the sun rising and everyone waking naturally to the sound of different animal calls and the noise of John and Rob rousing first. It’s an uneventful morning, someone brewing a little pot of coffee over the fire which you are so thankful for when Rob fills your thermos. A quiet thanks is said before you just observe the others, watching John pick up the small table that was knocked over last night. You want to ask about the animal, ask if either John or Rob know what it was exactly, but it doesn’t seem like the right moment. Everyone’s groggy, quiet, getting coffee in their thermos’, short words exchanged as they all wake up. John wastes no time in gathering everyone up though, ready for a few hours of hiking and exploring.

—

A couple of hours of hiking warrants a break, stopping by the river crowded by rocks and a waterfall no taller than you. Everyone scatters around, Maria by herself, John and Rob sat together exchanging some words and getting some water, Lisa collecting some more moss in her little tubes. This is the perfect opportunity to get some landscape shots, collecting your camera and sitting down at the edge of the water.

Eyes are on you though, Rob’s deep blues unable to stop from wandering to you as you just.. simply do your job. His thoughts are interrupted when John speaks, “Enjoying the view?”

“Shut up.” The quip leaves Rob’s lips as he averts his eyes away, making John laugh.

“Okay.” He sees how his best friend acts around you, understands that there’s something more there than just friendly, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet?”

Rob gawks for a moment before schooling his expression and clearing his throat, “We’re- colleagues John, it’s-”

“Not technically. She’s just contracted on this job. Not like she works with us all the time.”

“It’s still different.” Rob argues back softly. He’s avoiding the point, because he knows deep down he just doesn’t have the courage to ask you out yet. It’s just not a risk he’s willing to take.

“Coward.” John mutters, fishing his water bottle from his pack and taking a sip. Rob ignores him, watches as you step from the edge of the small hill to look down at your camera. Something spurs him to his feet, moving towards you. “Go get ‘em tiger.” A smack lands on the back of Rob’s leg from John, making him scowl as the other laughs at him, loving that he’s aggravating him.

A flash of a middle finger makes John crack up again, before Rob appears by your side, “Hey,”

Flicking your gaze up to him, you greet back with a smile, “Hi.”

Just that single word makes his heart pound a bit, lifts his mood just a little, “Getting some good photos?”

A nod, “Yeah, they wanted me to get a lot of landscape photos but.. probably won’t even use half of what I submit. They always do that..” Your attention is focused on the screen of your camera, flicking through the various snapshots you just got of the river and small waterfall.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Rob leans in just a hair more, smelling your natural scent and something faint like a sweet shampoo. It sends his nerves alight, making him swallow. Despite that dull feeling that swirls in his gut, he really is curious about your pictures. Never having a reason to deny him, you shake your head and step closer to him, tilting the camera screen towards him so he can hopefully see well despite the rays of sun peeking through the treetops. He really can’t tell the difference between them… maybe the rushing water or the physical angle you used.. but his inexperienced eye can’t tell much other than they’re pretty photos.

His hand moves, some instinctive action to rest on the small of your back, since you’re both stood by the edge of the hill. He’s so hyper aware of how close you are, how good you smell, it’s clouding his brain in the worst way possible. How much larger he is than you, his hand splays over your back nearly covering the width of it.. God.

“I probably got my feet wet for nothing, I bet they won’t even use the ones from in the water.” Your voice snaps him out of it, eyes focusing back on the camera. Then he notices your shoes and bottom of your cargos are wet, you must’ve stepped into the river when he wasn’t looking, too occupied being teased by John. He swallows again, staring as you flick through a few more before his eyes flit to your face.

“Even if that’s the case- I mean- they’re still really good.” He’s struggling to find the right words, actually stumbling over his sentence and that makes some embarrassed heat rise to his face. It’s easy to excuse it on the humidity though.

Your shoulder brushes against his chest when you glance up at him, sending a ripple of electricity up his spine, flashing your cute smile up at him, “Thanks, if anything I’ll pick out a few and they’ll go into the album for this trip.”

“Maybe you could send them to me sometime.” He offers, the words leaving his mouth before his brain even comprehends them. It causes you to falter, not expecting him to suggest that, before your smile grows and so does the size of his heart.

“Yeah? I mean- yeah I can, if you’d like. Just remind me when we get back.”

The butterflies in his gut are going insane, normally he can control himself but.. maybe it’s the closer proximity, your scent, maybe it’s even just the moment itself. His eyes dart from your own to your lips, back and forth, doing a shitty job at hiding it. Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for you, or maybe the other way around, you’re a terrible flirt, so you don’t really notice.

The distant raising of Maria’s voice pulls you both from the moment, looking over towards the edge of the trail where both Maria and Michelle, with James filming per usual, are stood, “No you don’t get it! You don’t want to know what it was!” The raised tone of her thick accent catches everyone else's attention as you both move over, and John is also joining in to try and separate them, but Maria keeps going, “There are thing’s here you couldn’t even begin to comprehend! You treat this jungle with no respect.” She sidesteps John and he goes between the two women, trying to calm them down.

John tries to de-escalate, speaking to Maria whilst glancing between her and James who’s still filming, “I can promise you that we are treating this area with the utmost respect, okay? Okay?” Maria ignores him and moves towards the trail, clearly ready to move on as John turns to James and Michelle to scold them both.

“We just wanna know what was in camp last night!” James defends, but it only aggravates John further.

“Listen- I will look at the tracks when we get back, okay? I’m sure I can figure out what they are. But for now, stop. You're making this harder than it needs to be.” He turns towards the group as they’re gathered on the trail, eager to move on from this moment.

“Well..” You start, muttering quietly mainly to Rob beside you. He was waiting to see if he needed to step in, now watching as James and Michelle grab their bags. “I was curious about whatever animal it was too but.. guess I’m glad I wasn’t the first to ask.” There’s a dry amusement to your tone that makes Rob give a small chuckle.

Your group carries on, a tense quiet besides some muttering between the pairs, and eventually Rob catches up to John with the intent on asking him a question, but the latter speaks first, “That was painful to watch.”

A hum of agreement escapes the taller one accompanied by a nod, “Mm.. things are tense enough since Carlos left us.”

“I’m talking about your shit attempt at flirting.”

That same aggravation rises in Rob again, “Shut it.”

John snorts a laugh, giving him a nudge on the arm, “I just like pushing your buttons mate, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“And you never will again.” He retorts back. John knows Rob, and his teasing is making him suddenly feel self conscious over this entire thing. “Just shut up before I shove you off this trail.”

There’s the Rob he knows, making John laugh and raise his hands in defense, falling into conversation about the trail up ahead.

—

A couple of tense hours pass before the group decides to rest again to eat some lunch, whatever dried foods and non perishable items that have been packed, most of the food was in the car Carlos left in..

Everyone scatters into their usual pairs, sat eating jerky or other items and having some water. You’re munching on some trail mix, picking out the good bits, wired earbuds in your ears connected to your iPod. Rob sees you alone, feels this.. odd sense of protection, wanting to be close, so he goes with it, walking over with his water, “Mind if I join you?”

Grinning up as he approached, you muse softly as you pat the ground beside you, “Awfully chatty today, am I your favorite?” As he grins down at you, you hold your trail mix bag out as an offering.

He smirks a bit, watching as you pull an earbud from your right ear as he sits next to you, long legs stretching out alongside yours, scooping out a small handful of trail mix, “Oh absolutely, you’re the highlight of my life.” His tone is laced with amusement and a hint of sarcasm. His tone makes you snort a laugh, taking a sip of water whilst your other hand lifts your camera up, as you were in the middle of looking through some things, lifting it to take some photos of everyone resting. “Do you actually keep most of these photos, or do you just take them so you have an excuse to not socialize with everyone else?”

“You caught me,” the amusing accusation pulls a small laugh from you, giving him a glance before looking back through your camera, “I don’t keep every photo, but I’ll keep one or two from each group. So, a couple of the water from earlier, one of these now.”

“I figured as much,” He hums, fishing out a little bag of jerky from his pack, “How much are they willing to pay for those anyway?”

“You’d probably faint if I told you.” Pulling your camera down, you look at the few you just snapped, “Is Michelle still scowling?”

That question turns Rob’s attention to said woman, seeing her with.. indeed quite a sour look on her face. “Like she’s trying to shoot daggers with her eyes.” He confirms.

“She’s ruining the damn pictures,” You complain softly, glancing at Rob as he chews. Scooting a few inches away to twist towards him, you lift your camera again and snap some photos. It catches him off guard when he glances at you, a slight heat forming on his face.

“Hey, what’re you-”

“Shh shh, just look the other direction.” Your hand waves a little, wanting him to turn his head towards the group rather than look directly at you. He gets a slightly indifferent look on his face, almost like he doesn’t wanna listen, but he has no reason not to, so he turns the way he was again. Grinning behind your camera, you snap a few and then lower it to look at them. One of them caught that look on his face, like he wanted to frown or pout, and it’s so cute you feel your heart do a little flip. Scooting back next to him, you speak again, “Much better.”

He laughs along with your little chuckle, finishing chewing his bite of jerky, “So, how do I fare in your professional opinion?”

“Quite nice,” You muse, smiling as you tilt the camera so he can see, “much better than Michelle’s scowl.” The photos are simple, they’re.. him. He doesn’t see the appeal really but they are a nice quality. He thinks they’re okay, he just isn’t used to his photo being taken. Still, there’s a small smile on his lips that prompts you to speak again, “I can send these to you too, if you’d like.”

His smile widens even by just a bit, nodding, “Mm, yeah.”

“Is she still scowling?”

Another soft huff of laughter, “Yeah, guess she didn’t like being told off.”

You groan a little, lifting your camera to get some photos of Lisa scraping up some moss at the base of a tree, “Would it be mean to go tell her to fix her face so I can do my job?”

That pulls an unexpected laugh from Rob, louder than the other softer huffs before, and it makes something flip-flop in your stomach. You have to look over at him, because that might be the loudest thing you’ve heard from him when he isn’t yelling at someone. “Shut up, I’m serious!”

He laughs a little more, nodding like he believes you, “I think she’d eat you alive before that happens.” Looking through your camera again, you see her sour expression as she’s even glancing over at the two of you, curious as to what’s so funny.

It pulls a giggle out of you as you nod to him, “Yeah, she might kill me.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“Yeah, okay, you’d grab some popcorn and sit back.”

He laughs again, watching as you start to put your camera back into its little bag, “Mm, I could do that. Who needs entertainment when you’re on the trail with a couple of ladies getting into a cat fight?”

“Give me that, I’m done sharing with you.” You playfully grab your trail mix back, the bag having been in between the two of you. He plays along and huffs like he’s annoyed.

“Oh c’mon, y’want me to starve?”

“I think you’ll live.” You start to fish out some of the m&m’s from the mix, the half melted candy smearing colors onto your fingertips.

“Those are my favorite y’know.” He hums, trying to push your buttons on purpose. He likes playing around with you, he doesn’t do this with anyone else.

You give him a look, like are you serious? before looking back down at the bag of assorted nuts and dried fruits, picking out some more of the candy. You know he’s just playing, but you speak anyway, “Hold out your hand.”

Rob stares for a second, almost not listening but something in him is compelled to, so he does. His hand flattens out, palm up, watching as you drop the candies into his hand. His heart does a little flip, grinning before popping the m&m’s into his mouth in one go, the half melted chocolate almost as sweet as you. “I knew you really liked me.” He murmurs, voice laced with a teasing tone.

“Oh shut up.” You laugh it off, but the moment between you two has your heart pounding a bit harder, skin tingling where it had met his larger hand when you gave him the candy.

———————♡

#neil newbon #neil newbon x reader #extinction rob #rob extinction #extinction rob x reader #rob mini series

[sznofthesticks]

thanks for the tag @vineofroses!

Rules: Post your favorite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

shaking my fist at you rose because being proud of my work is my enemy, but i also can't pass up a tag game!

i miss you in the mornings when i see the sun (this one is quite short, and depressing, but im so so proud of it)

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get up. It might have been 3 a.m. but laying there was making his skin itch. He headed to the shower and turned the water on as hot as it could go. He felt so numb, he just needed to feel something, and it couldn’t be a needle prick. The urge was screaming inside of him for that needle. He undressed out of his white t-shirt and blue boxers and stepped into the shower. He winced in pain at the blazing hot stream of water running down his back. He stood there, under the waterfall, breathing in the steam, starting to stare off into the grout in the tile. He wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed when he heard the shower curtain being pulled back.

as long as i'm with you (a more upbeat fic. tk's birthday with lots of dates <3 )

It was a blue envelope with “Tyler Kennedy” in silver metallic writing on it. TK gave Carlos a ‘what did you do?’ look and proceeded to open it, inside was a printout of their game tickets. TK yelled “OH MY GOD!” and jumped up and kissed his husband. Carlos still felt weird kissing him in front of friends and his mom, but he was slowly becoming more okay with it. He knew they were all supportive of them, but he still felt strange about it, especially in front of parent-like figures like Owen, Andrea, and Tommy.

soulmates aren't just lovers (pre-canon nancy and carlos friendship fic)

“There’s something I need to tell you before we make the popcorn or turn on the movie. It may make you change your mind on if you want to stay.”  “Okay … It seems serious.” Carlos sat down on the bed next to her.  “I don’t even know how to say this, but I feel so suffocated keeping it bottled in.” Nancy looked down at her feet that were dangling off the bed. “So, I’ve been seeing someone.”  “And you didn’t tell me? Why?” Carlos looked surprised.  “Well, it’s complicated. We haven’t been seeing each other long but we’re having fun and I like being with them.”  Carlos rubbed her shoulder. “That’s amazing. Why would that make me want to leave?”  “Well, they’re a girl. I’m seeing a woman. And I’m still doing a lot of discovery about myself, I still like men too … really everyone ... I don’t like the labels of bisexual, lesbian, or straight … I think if I were to call myself something, I would say I’m queer, I’m just me who happens to like girls too.”  “Oh, Nancy.” Carlos pulled her in for a big bear hug. They stayed there for a moment, then Carlos whispered in her ear. “Since we’re sharing, I’m gay. Like super gay.” 

like a bird set free - (because i never got the moment of buck putting his fingers to his lips in disbelief so i wrote it)

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.  Buck reached two fingers up to his lips, still in disbelief. He was starting to panic. He started to pace in his kitchen. Ten minutes ago, he was sorting out his tax documents and now he’d kissed a man, and he liked it.  He knew everyone at the 118 would be supportive,  but he can’t talk to them about this. They all know him. He can’t risk that. He needed to talk to someone, someone who would get it and didn’t know Tommy. Then he thought of the perfect person. He pulled out his phone.

no pressure tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom @chicgeekgirl89 @literateowl @bonheur-cafe

and cheating and adding an extra tag just for you @zitasempri <3

#fic pride friday #911 abc #911 lone star #tw addiction #tw self harm #tw needle mention

[pallases]

ourgejjg

#i am feeling so ill rn for no reason and i need to shower and wash my hair so bad but i can tell if i do it rn it’ll make the #lightheadedness ten times worse and there is a nonzero chance i will just pass out in there 😭 #best guess is bc my period started today and yeah the first two days suck but they’re not usually This bad #personal #also this is the last thing i need rn it’s tech week and all rehearsals lately have been going/are going to go till 10 pm and i have no tim #to do all my assignments and my probability prof assigned a lab today that’s due TMRW AT MIDNIGHT? <- we usually get a class period btwn #it being assigned and the deadline and he’s not even giving us until the next class period to do it now like why is it due at midnight #instead of noon the next day… also i have not one but two exams immediately following this weekend and i really want to see my family for #easter but that sounds like such a bad idea im so unproductive at home and i’ll be busier than usual when i go home on top of that bc easte #and one of the exams is circuits for which exams are worth 90% of our grade and im averaging a 74% at the moment which is NOT #promising and. AAAAA #also have an exam this thursday which imnot nearly as worried abt but still. and i have to meet w someone abt a scholarship tmrw during my #free period so i Still can’t work on that stupid lab due tmrw night like. this sucks okay ‼️ #the engineering chronicles #the music chronicles #i know it was only a matter of time before musical started stressing me out but 😭 please give me back the joys of saturday’s rehearsal… #oh also there’s ANOTHER probability lab due day after easter and same day as circuits exam and the prof is the same so he knows full well #what he’s doing like. why are you not giving us the usual period in btwn for these anymore fuck you <3 #OH ALSO soldering qualification i need to do for like 3 hours wednesday the night before my thursday exam. nearly forgot abt that one i hat #it hereeee #soldering i could reschedule tho which i might do. but ive already pushed it back once so im like :/ do i really wanna do that #idk. still feel sick as fuck and still need to do physics prelab tonight 😭 it shouldn’t take long but i really don’t want to get up and #stare at my computer even more ifeel so awful rn #ANYWAY. sorry that was oversharing even for me i am just 😐 you know.

[saetoru]

Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹

part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed

imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).

“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.

“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”

you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.

it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.

but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.

you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.

you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.

“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)

“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)

“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”

almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”

“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?

“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.

this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.

“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”

“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”

and then you really do see him around.

sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.

and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.

today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.

i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.

today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.

and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.

and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.

except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.

“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”

“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”

he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.

“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.

“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”

“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”

“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”

you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.

“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.

“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.

“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.

“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”

somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he���s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.

i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.

you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.

you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.

it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.

does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?

and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.

but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.

evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.

but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.

yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.

they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.

and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.

it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.

sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.

you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.

or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.

that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.

like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.

and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.

it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.

and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.

you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.

it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.

he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.

you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.

when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.

“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.

satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.

“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”

“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.

you can’t have that.

“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.

“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”

his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.

“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”

for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.

it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.

“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”

“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”

there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.

you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.

you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.

“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”

“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.

“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”

“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”

“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”

“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.

something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.

“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.

maybe he does.

“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”

“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.

well….maybe he’s already succeeded.

#i wasn’t gonna tag this buuuuuuuut….its kinda long so #i was like eh why not #but i’m not like tagging every tag just the main few #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #bully! gojo tag

[kissitbttr]

“my baby” you murmur softly against his skin. hands cradling both side of his face gently. “my sweet, sweet baby”

toji hates to admit how that makes his heart tremble with pure love, and how the simple act is the sole reason for the crimson color risen within his cheeks,

“that, i am” he mutters with a small smile playing on his lips, tugging you close by the waist. “you love me?”

a small gasp escapes your lips, as if you’re offended by that question. “i can’t believe you have to ask! of course i do” another kiss presses against his temple and down to his cheek bone,

he suppresses a cute giggle from it, not wanting to be embarrassed if you ever caught him letting out such sound. it’s quite fascinating how you are the only person who has a way to make him feeling flustered. as if you’re looking at a teenage boy who finally scored a date with his first high school crush,

“just making sure” toji finds comfort against your naked chest, feeling himself melt under your touch while your fingers toy with his raven haired. he frowns and lets out a boyish groan when you pull away,

“noo, noo” he whines, taking your hand before plopping it back down on top of his hair. “don’t stop. keep playing it”

a confused yet amused frown make its way towards your face, a small giggle heaves out of your mouth,

“look at you. my big boy” the nickname just sends shivers down his spine, causing his grip around your waist to tighten. he loves it when you call him that. “touchy today aren’t you?”

he responds with a hum, letting his eyes close for a while as you continue to play with his loose strands of hair. he’s so comfortable like this. being with you is his favorite place. no large house nor king sized bed could ever compare if there’s no you in it.

he’s dreamed of this for far too long. when his wife was taken away from him years ago, he didn’t think that he could find a solace in someone else’s arm anymore. he had given up on love and pour his frustrations out in a very toxic way. drowning himself in alcohol and getting into fights was his way of coping.

then you came a long,

with your pretty smile, pretty aura, pretty hair, pretty voice… pretty everything. knocked the wind out of the man, he couldn’t even form the right words when you stood in front of him.

‘s-shit—wh-what were you saying?’ he laughed nervously when he realized he was staring at you for far too long,

it was an adorable sight. you really did have some sort of power to make men weak in their knees

his heart bloomed when he heard you giggle, ‘i said… did you come here with someone?’

‘oh! n-no! not at all’ he scratched the back of his neck while looking down on his drink, ‘all alone’

‘oh—well then’ you took a seat beside him at the bar, his eyes didn’t move an inch from you. ‘guess we can be alone together’

“my sweet big boy—wouldn’t even dreamed about leaving you”

and that’s enough to make him feel at ease. to let go of the fears he had been holding back. to let go of the past that had corrupted him in more ways than one. to finally say goodbye to his long gone wife and say thank you to you instead for being here. for being so patient. for being so stubborn despite the times he had pushed you away. for not backing down because he knew how much he needed you, he just didn’t have the guts to tell you.

what’s that saying about the song you had shown him? if life is a movie, then you’re the best part?

yeah. that’s the one. but he knows deep down that you’re better than a movie.

because after all these years, toji fushiguro had finally found you peace,

and may lord helps anyone to those who will try to take you away from him,

maybe toji will remove fushiguro from his last name and take yours instead in the near future

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro fluff

[tender-rosiey]

your heart — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: @callmemirro mentioned gojo holding his little baby girl once and it never got out of my head since then so here you go <33

after hours of going through a torturing labor, you can finally rest.

satoru has been by your side all of the time and his hand never left your own. he wipes the sweat off your face and brushes the hair away from eyes. he presses a kiss to your forehead, “you did so well.”

“of course, I did,” you say, out of breath then you raise your fist in victory, “I am…the strongest.”

he laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, “yeah, you’re and you’re going to be a wonderful mom too.”

“would you like to hold your daughter, miss gojo?” the nurse says when she enters, holding a small bundle that without a doubt has your little baby girl.

you nod as eagerly as you can and she hands her to you with a chuckle. you don't notice satoru tensing up as she nestles in your arms.

she is resting so contently. the moment you hold her, she almost instantly snuggles into your chest.

both of you are staring at her in wonder. her every little move a sight to be seen.

satoru calms down a bit and he just seems so captivated by her and his eyes trace her every feature.

he whispers softly, “she’s so pretty.”

you hum, “she has your hair,” your hold is already so protective of her and it tugs on satoru’s heart in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“and she has your nose,” he murmurs as his finger reaches to lightly touch her nose. she scrunches her nose softly and turns away from his finger and satoru gasps in awe.

his eyes wander to your face, “you’re holding her like it’s second nature,” he laughs lightly as he caresses your face.

you lean into his touch with a tired smile, “I am sure you will do better than me.”

satoru pulls back slightly and he looks at her then at you, “don’t be silly,” he laughs but it’s nervous almost scared.

you quirk an eyebrow, “what’re you so scared of, ‘toru? “ you chuckle fondly, “she won’t bite you.”

he rolls his eyes and his hand grazes her chubby cheek, “so funny,” he sighs, troubled as he looks at her, “I don’t want to…hurt her.”

you huff, signalling for him to be ready, “don’t be silly,” you slowly place her in his arms.

he panics at first and he would shout about your betrayal if it weren’t for her sleeping. then she is in his hold and he takes a moment to think: she fits perfectly in his arms.

your eyes soften at the sight. she is already small, but she somehow looks even tinier in his arms. you almost squeal at how content she looks as she also snuggles into him.

smart girl already knows her parents, “see, ‘toru? she loves you and you aren’t hurting her.”

“if you ask me,” you lay your head on his shoulder, noting how relaxed it has become, “I would say the safest place in the world for her is in your arms.”

you thank the heavens that you can see satoru’s eyes clearly, blindfold long forgotten. you’re able to instantly reach to wipe the tears streaming down his face.

he looks at you with a smile, amidst all the tears, “she is so tiny. I can fit her in just my hands.”

his gaze is full of adoration as he looks at her. the little life he is holding in his arms. the little life he created with you. to think that such a small thing will have him wrapped around her tiny finger oh so quickly.

he can’t help the joy he feels anymore.

a laugh escapes your lips when he starts cooing at his little girl, “papa is going to protect you, baby,” you pet his hair while he continues speaking to her, “I’ve been waiting for you, pretty.”

the both of you gasp when she stirs and her hand reaches for his finger, grabbing it like it’s her anchor. he looks at you, excitement brimming in his eyes as he whispers, “y/n! she is holding my finger!”

you nod and gently kiss her forehead, “and it’s barely enough to cover the top of your finger.”

you lay back down and with a content smile, you close your eyes. the fatigue of everything that happened is finally catching up to you. your eyes barely catch satoru nodding at you and kissing your forehead before you finally succumb to the slumber.

after making sure you're asleep, satoru starts rocking her gently, “mama is all tired, huh?”

he can’t get rid of the smile on his face, “we have to let her rest, right, baby?”

she stirs and satoru freezes. his breath is caught in his throat as she finally opens her eyes to the world. she takes her time as she slowly gazes around before she finally looks at her papa’s face.

a small content smile appears on her face as she coos at him, blue eyes like his own staring right at him. his eyes brighten as he watches her with a big smile, “you have my eyes, huh?”

he bends down a bit to be closer to her, “your mama is going to be so mad,” he lets out a watery laugh as he tries to compose himself. though, it’s all in vain when she reaches for his face.

it clicks in satoru’s head: she wants to wipe his tears.

he slowly pulls her into his chest once again and the tears finally freely fall to the ground. he lets out a shaky breath as light laughter tumble out of his lips, “not even ten minutes old and you are already so compassionate,” he hums quietly.

satoru wipes his tears with his sleeves, “you have your mama’s heart,” then his gaze drifts to you and he smiles, “that’s good.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @jisbizarre @kunikida-simp @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk gojo x y/n

[slut4jeon]

Closer to You (jjk)

Jk x fem reader

Summary- Jungkook’s early morning gym session leaves you feeling a whole lot of things

Warnings: smut, age gap idk by how much I’ll just leave it to your imagination, older jk, degradation, shower sex, pet names, the word daddy, breading kink, slapping, rough sex, everything’s consensual ofc, fictional!!!, etc idrk

The gasp I let out when he posted this on weverse+*%€#!^~*% (closer to you best b side on golden, fight me)

-

Turning on your side, drowsy and looking for a more comfortable position you notice how your boyfriends side of the bed was cold.

Assuming he had already gone on his early morning gym session, you waited patiently for his arrival.

You finally hear the sound of the front door closing, footsteps coming closer and closer to your shared bedroom. You take in your boyfriends appearance once he stepped into the room.

Your core sparked in need as you felt yourself heating up.

His skin and hair were damp due to the sweaty workout he had just completed. Oh how you wish you had gotten up from your sleep to admire his godly body as he worked out his muscular physique.

“Morning sweetheart, did my pretty girl sleep well?”, he said as he approached you, caressing your cheek with his manly hand.

“Yes, missed you while you were gone”, you said as he cooed you.

“Missed you more baby, I’ll go take a shower and be back alright?”, he said as he began heading to your bathroom with a reassuring nod.

You huffed in boredom as you heard the shower turn on. Suddenly a whole bunch of menacing things came up into your mind.

Entering the bathroom, mirrors fogged up due to the temperature of the water, it felt like a sauna. Slipping out of your silk nightgown now completely bare, you enter the shower with your boyfriend taking him by surprise.

He takes in your appearance, admiring your body from head to toe. A gulp ran through his throat as he craved for you.

“Not tired anymore, baby?”, he said as he embraced you in his muscular tatted arms.

“No, felt lonely and bored. Wanted to be closer to you”, you said with a hint of neediness in your tone.

He caught on to your fake act. He knew you like the back of his palm. Being attentive and aware to your needs. How could he ever say no to a pretty thing like you?

“You little minx, does baby want something, hm?”, two can play at one game he thought, he needed you to share your naughty thoughts with him before proceeding.

“Yes, you.”, giving your best doe eyed stare as you batted your pretty lashes.

That’s all it took for Jungkook to latch his pinky soft lips with yours, eloping the two of you. He kissed you with a sense of hunger, caressing your sides with his strong hands. Gripping onto your plump cheeks as he gave them a firm stinging slap. Causing you to jump and whine in surprise.

You felt his hardening member touching your upper thigh. His hands left your ass as he groped your full breasts, rubbing and pinching on your buds. He teared his hungry lips away from yours as he latched them onto your hardening buds. He was so rough you loved it, loving the way he manhandled you.

You whined in sensitivity of his skillful mouth as you then firmly gripped with your palm onto his length. An up and down motion from base to tip making sure to rub the slit on the tip as well. He grunted in response which only made you wetter.

“ah fuck, mhm” you squealed out in surprise as he began rubbing in between your plumpy folds.

This only caused him to react in a rough manner, gripping onto your hairs roots.

“Language, watch your mouth. Don’t wanna hear any bad words coming outta your pretty mouth.”, he said with seriousness. Jungkook never liked when you cursed.

His authoritative tone always sent sparks to your already dripping core.

He plunged his long fingers into your cunt, provoking you to release a sweet melodic moan.

“You’re that needy? Desperately needed a good morning fuck, hm?”, he spewed as he pumped his fingers into your raw cunt.

In ecstasy you nodded your head frantically. This causing the excitement to rush into his already hard cock enjoying the submissiveness of your voice.

He slipped his fingers out of your heat causing you to whine in complaint. He slapped a firm slap onto your plump ass.

“Be patient slut”, shoving his fingers coated in your juices to your mouth causing you to suddenly gag.

You cleaned off his fingers as he watched. Roughly turning you around so your bent against the cold bathroom tile wall as your ass sticked out onto his hard on aching to be filled up by his thick cock.

You turned your head towards his direction, locking eyes with him as you mentally begged to be filled by him, expression wise.

“Baby desperately wants my cock, too dumb you don’t even know what you want.”, he complied on what you were asking for, after all you were the one begging.

Stubbornly you retorted back, “I do! w-want your cock, daddy please! want it s-so bad!”

Griping onto your wet hair and pulling it toward to his chest, leaning into your ear “Since your begging like a pathetic slut then you’re gonna take it like one”, he whisper-gritted out as he pushed his entire length in you.

Your full-throated moans were music to his ears. Igniting his excitement and provoking him to pump animalistic til your pussy was raw and red.

“s-shit you’re so fucking tight” he said as you cried.

“s good!“ you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence with how stupid dumb he was pounding into you right now.

All that was heard was both your melodic moans in harmony as his ball frantically slapped onto your ass.

You were in daze. Your thoughts suddenly being cut off by his large palm gripped onto your nape pulling you upwards into his chest.

This erupted a whole new sensation, your current position brushing onto your g spot deliciously.

You cried and whined

“s too much! s-sensitive!”

He loud out a dry chuckle, “Yea? Well too bad baby, you’re gonna take it. You wanted this.”

“daddy gonna c-cum!” You cried as his fingers reached to your lower bud and began abusing it, spasm coming closer.

“Shit me too baby, gonna fill you up real good with my babies. You want that sweetheart? Want to be bred with my babies? Make you a mama, hm?

You stupidly nodded your head eagerly, the words “yes!”, frantically spilling out of your mouth along with your cried moans.

Both cuming together on time, your staggering breathes and cum leaking abused cunt being the after math of your steamy sesh. Jungkook back-hugged you as he repeated what was said earlier on, “do you really want to have babies with me?”, glistening eyes reappearing.

“Yes , I really wanna have children with you kook.”, you said

Reacting in excitement, turning you around so you now are both face to face. He elopes both of your lips together.

“Guess we better start practicing.”

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #bts jungkook #jungkook #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

[boneblushed]

Labyrinth

Uh oh, I’m falling in love / Oh no, I’m falling in love again

synopsis you’re reunited with your ex-boyfriend, Rafe, at an Outer Banks wedding.

tags Rafe Cameron x fem!reader, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slowburn-ish, A LOT of angst, an equal amount of pining, an awful breakup but a wonderful reconciliation 💓

wc ~11k

“You look,” you murmur, squeezing Brooklyn’s shoulder gently, “perfect.”

She’s sitting in front of a round, gold-rimmed mirror, the windows on either side of her painting her skin a warm aureate. You stand in shadow behind her, the sunbeams unable to reach your pretty features. There’s a wistfulness to them that’s almost imperceptible.

Almost. If she weren’t your best friend, someone you’ve known since forever, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the way you were hiding from them. The smile on her face falters as she looks up at you through the mirror.

“Look,” she begins tentatively, frowning, “if this is too hard —”

“Do not,” you interrupt. You try for an encouraging smile; what you hope is an encouraging smile. “I’m totally fine, okay? I’m over it.”

A pause. Brooklyn’s reflection sends you a long, hard look. “No one would blame you if you weren’t.”

You know what that means, the insinuation behind her words: you were supposed to be the first one. It’s all anyone in the Figure Eight was saying when they first found out about your break-up: you’re meant for each other, though, we can’t imagine you not being a couple!

Well, neither could you, not that it really mattered. Six months on with half a heart and pulseless motive, you’ve come to realise that wretched pining comes at a costly price.

You can’t afford it anymore.

“I know,” you reply quietly.

The spaghetti strap of your cowl neck falls as you straighten, the periwinkle fabric shimmering forebodingly. An image of the Rafe you knew flashes in your mind, slipping it down to press a kiss on your skin. Your stomach drops.

“But I am,” you add, louder. As though you’re trying to convince yourself more than you are her. “I promise.”

Brooklyn stares at you for a long time before her gaze falls, acquiescing with a sigh. “I hate that you still don’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“That he could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you.”

You bite back another wince, the fresh sting of forgotten feelings pricking at your eyelids. “I do believe it,” you say quietly. “I do. That’s what makes all of this so fucking hard — that I know we’re never getting a second chance. That he chose to throw all of it away and I’m never going to be able to forgive him for it.”

“You shouldn’t have to, though!”

“We were together for half our lives, Brooke!” You turn away from the mirror, taking in a jagged breath. “We — his mom had promised me her ring before she died, for God’s sake. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk away from what we had?”

A long pause. Brooke’s voice is gentle, but her words cut like a knife. “It’s not as though you had a choice, Y/N/N. He didn’t give you one.”

You look around at her, unshed tears making your pretty eyes shine. “What does it say about me that I’m no closer to accepting that than I was six months ago?”

“Babe.” A tear falls. Brooke’s features soften, and she pulls you into a tight hug, enough pressure to wring out the melancholy in your chest. “It says that you’re human.”

She rocks you for a moment before you’re forced to pull apart, a knock on the door breaking your reverie. “God,” you self-reproach, sending Brooklyn a watery smile. “I would find a way to make your day about me, wouldn’t I?”

“Maybe I should ditch Kelce,” Brooklyn replies faux-seriously, catching the stray tears wetting your lower lids. “We can elope or something.”

As though on queue, the Universe intervenes before she can go through with this idea. Perhaps it knows, having watched the pair of grow close throughout college, that there’s a part of her that really would call this all off if you asked her to.

“Sweetheart!” Comes Brooklyn’s father’s voice from behind the door, punctuated by the sharp rap of his knuckles. “It’s nearly time!”

The tension ebbs. Suddenly, everything about this wedding—the same one you’ve been helping her plan forever—becomes entirely too real. Your melancholia is a tide in this way, flowing forth and receding as its surroundings permit. Never fading away; ever-present. Though it may not be as unbearable now as it was when you first broke up, it lingers.

You’re afraid that it always will. You push down this fear like you’ve done every other.

Focus. Your eyes widen in anticipation, mirroring Brooklyn’s as they transform into nervous excitement.

“Come in!” Brooklyn calls anxiously, biting back a squeal. You’re grateful for the fact that you haven’t ruined her mood completely. “Oh my god. Oh my god!”

She stands up and turns around just as her father enters the room, his lined face shining with a wistful sense of happiness. As the atmosphere in the room shifts, she glances back at you, and your insides twist in cruel mocking. More repentant than jealous. I was supposed to be the first one.

You don’t let your expression falter. The first few chords of the processional float into the room through the ajar door, and you spring into action, smoothing out your dress and readjusting your bouquet of flowers.

“That’s my queue,” you say, squeezing her arm once more before slipping past her and her father.

In true Kook fashion, Brooklyn’s wedding ceremony is taking place on the Island Club green. Upon exiting the storage room you’ve transformed into a vanity, you find yourself in the entranceway that leads to the venue, the set-up just visible beyond its oak doors.

Benches of beige driftwood sit on either side of the aisle, twined with buttery white lilies and ivy-like viridescence. They face a brilliant floral wedding arch, where the officiant and Kelce stand talking in hushed whispers. And the sky above you is a vibrant, cloudless blue, golden sunlight fanning down upon the crowd, bathing them aureate.

In the beat that passes, you search for someone you shouldn’t.

The last time that you saw him, he was hunched over his father’s office desk. His eyes were bloodshot and his tired gaze dull; half-finished documents stared up at him in mocking, and a nagging ache was making home in his chest.

The week prior, you hadn’t seen much of each other. And it wasn’t as though he’d requested this space—he rarely did, rarely asked you for anything—you’d just taken it upon yourself to give it to him. Stay in control. If you proposed time apart before he did, maybe it would feel more deliberate; hurt less.

You were dead wrong.

“Look,” he sighs, this cruel, heavy sound that splices right through your chest, “I realise I’ve been neglecting our relationship a lot recently.”

“Yes,” you respond tentatively. “But you’ve been under a lot of pressure recently. I get it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He glances up at you through red-rimmed irises. “I… I don’t know how long it’ll be like this. With everything that’s happened… my dad dying, and me taking over the firm —”

“I’ve seen you through all of it,” you interrupt quietly, your voice cracking. “I’ve — no questions asked, I’ve done it. I get it, Rafe, you’ve got different priorities at the moment. But we’ve loved each other for so long now that I —”

“But that’s the thing,” he says then, swallowing hard, “I just don’t know if I do anymore. Not as much as I used to.”

The silence that follows feels as though it’s suffocating you. You haven’t said a word, and Rafe’s said plenty, but it’s you with the lungs that heave for loveless oxygen.

“Oh.”

Rafe’s Adam’s apple jumps again, and he breaks eye contact as unshed tears brim to the surface. “I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t make any sense.

“Maybe,” you try, grappling hard for a logical explanation, “maybe your grief’s fucking with your ability to feel anything.”

Rafe’s gaze lifts to your face again, teardrop tracks making your pretty cheeks shine. His heart aches, hard, and he finds it difficult to catch his breath. “But… I’ve dealt with it,” he says quietly. “I’ve had to.”

“How can you have?” You throw back, exasperated. “Rafe you — you haven’t had a moment to yourself since his funeral last month, you’ve holed yourself up in his office and acted like everything’s fucking okay!”

“Because it is!” He replies, his face hardening momentarily. “I’m — I’m fucking fine, alright? I just need to be alone right now.”

“Because you don’t love me anymore.”

Rafe winces. Your lower lip trembles. “Yeah. Because something’s missing… the — the fucking spark, or whatever… and right now, I can’t give you the sort of love you deserve.”

He was tired of hurting you through his abjection, he’d said. As if breaking things off wasn’t the most hurtful thing he ever did.

Thankfully, you aren’t able to spot him in the crowd; if you had, walking down the aisle would have been infinitely more difficult. Out of courtesy to you—and Brooke forcing his hand, of course—he hadn’t asked Rafe to be a groomsman either, so you were well safe from an untimely encounter at pre-wedding festivities. And from standing opposite him in front of the altar. You aren’t sure such close proximity in holy matrimony would be healthy for either of you.

It’s unfair on him though, you know it is. He has as much a right being best man as you do maid of honour — the four of you were thick as thieves once upon a time; in fact, it was you that’d introduced Kelce to Brooklyn.

It feels like so long ago when you think back on it now, being nineteen-years-old with a naïve heart and nothing to lose.

You and Rafe had seemed invincible then, high-school sweethearts that were somehow surviving college-borne distance. Forever, that’s the word that ended every drunk call or late night text; forever, and the promise of a proposal and beach-side villa.

“Shi—did you not see the sock on the door, Smith?” Rafe groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder in defeat. He’s spent the past half hour getting you into a compromising position, his rough hands awry and his wet mouth on your soft skin. The amaranthine imprint of his kisses have made home on your neck. You’re straddling him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he really doesn’t want to sacrifice any amount of closeness.

Kelce enters the room tentatively, his hand firmly pressed over his eyes. “Hard to miss. You two decent or what?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You let out a peal of laughter as Rafe glowers at his roommate, his calloused palms dropping from your hips to your thighs. You push the fabric of your dress over his hands, but he kneads the flesh anyway, the skin on skin like spare oxygen.

Kelce peeks at you from between his fingers before pulling them away, an unimpressed look on his face. “C’mon, surely you’re done with her Cameron. I’ve given you guys the entire fucking day together.”

“Half an hour,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes narrowing.

“As if you need more than five minutes,” Kelce snorts, plopping down on the bed opposite Rafe’s.

“Oh fuck—” Rafe’s large hands circle your thighs and tighten, standing up and advancing toward Kelce with you in his arms, “—right off—”

“Rafe!” You gasp, suppressing another surprised laugh. “Put me down, you asshole.”

“No way, Y/N/N,” Kelce says then, raising his arms in preemptive surrender. “Your PDA’s the only reason he hasn’t given me a shiner yet.”

Rafe affirms this sentiment by pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, his eyes still narrowed as he glares at Kelce. “You’re lucky I love my girlfriend more than I do my fucking reputation.”

Kelce makes a face, keeling over and mock-gagging. “Yeah, yeah, you guys have been bethrothed since fucking pre-K, I get it. Now will you stop being so possessive and let me have a conversation with her?”

You look over your shoulder at him, untangling your arms from Rafe’s neck so he can let you down gently. When he does so, it’s with great reluctance, and he doesn’t hesitate to circle your chest so he can pull you back against him. His strong bicep is warm against your neck, solid pressure.

“What’s up, Kelcey?” You ask, surveying him with interest.

“Ghosted,” he says gloomily, falling back against his duvet, “again.”

Rafe glances down at you at the same time you look up at him, a sage, sympathetic emotion passing between you. In the weeks after your break-up, you’ll come to yearn for this emotion more than anything else — that feeling of being immune to inadequacy, of having found the love of your life so effortlessly.

“You’ve gotta stop coming on so hard, bro,” Rafe says, resting his chin on your forehead. “These sorority chicks are probably all looking for something casual.”

“He can’t help the fact that he’s a lover boy, Rafe,” you defend, frowning. “You’ve just gotta find a girl that wants what you want, Kelce.”

Kelce raises his head hopefully. “Know anyone like that, Y/N/N?”

“Well,” you pause, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully, “I am thinking of inviting my roommate Brooklyn to the Bahamas over summer break —”

“To Rafe’s?” This piques Kelce’s interest. He props himself up onto his elbows, a hopeful grin transforming his features. “Sold.”

How times change.

Today, Kelce stands at the other end of the aisle, waiting for the same Brooklyn that was once your roommate, now his almost wife. He’s wearing an elegant black tuxedo with a lily tucked into the breast pocket, its buttery white petals shining in the sun. He looks so, unimaginably, happy. It should’ve been you and Rafe. Your heartstrings twinge.

“You’re not ready,” you murmur as you pass him on the altar, finding your place opposite his best man, Topper.

Kelce smiles at you, a little nervous, a little unshed. “Will I ever be?”

You shake your head, smiling in tandem.

The wedding procession is a brilliant display of love, and you find a way to make it about your lack thereof. Seconds blur, minutes melt into each other, and your poor mind strays to when things were far simpler. The Island Club was your date night spot, once upon a time. It’s where you’d envisioned you’d get proposed to; where you would get married one day, too. Just like this.

You’re happy for them, you swear it. It’s just a difficult emotion to maintain when the opposite comes so naturally.

Rafe doesn’t arrive until the reception itself.

He wants to believe that this is entirely accidental — he’s had a long day at the office, filled with several meetings with prospective clients. He can’t though, his wretched conscience won’t let him. He chose to go to work today, chose to schedule important meetings at the same time as Kelce’s nuptials.

He thinks he knows why this is, and isn’t sure whether he can handle the why in a satin slip and strappy heels. He wants to believe that he meant everything he said to you six months prior, but the dreadful ache in his chest crescendos in mocking every time he tries this.

He’s made a mistake. He won’t admit this if it killed him. But he knows, deep down, that something isn’t right about all of this.

If he really didn’t love you anymore, if that fucking spark was missing, there shouldn’t have been anything to move on from—the ship should have already departed. But he’s struggling, hard, and his thoughts juxtapose his actions. Despite telling you that he needs to be alone for the time being, you remain unmoored in his mind, rocking back and forth but never sinking.

He’s done his fair share of fucking up over the past few months. Got into something else too quickly, tried that no contact thing and failed miserably. There’s no going back after everything that’s happened. And yet…

“Hello?” He greets you like it’s a question; like greeting you isn’t second nature anymore. Your stomach turns.

When you respond, your voice comes out jagged, pained. “Look. I get that you’re doing this ‘no contact’ thing, or whatever, but Sarah told me something pretty fucked up and I think you owe me an explanation.” Your voice is far weaker.

Rafe winces, a familiar ache pulling through his chest. “If this is about Elle —”

“It’s been a month, Rafe. You may as well have cheated.”

…that fucking hug.

After you’d confronted him about shamelessly flirting with Sarah’s friend, Elle—in front of Sarah, no less, who told you the second it happened—he’d asked to meet up in person and explain himself.

You weren’t quite sure what to make of it all, which is probably why you’d foolishly agreed to hear him out. Ward had hired Elle as an intern before his death; she’d been around a while, long enough for an affair.

It shifted bile into your throat.

And when you’d met him, the exact opposite of what you’d hoped had happened. He’d had the gall to tell you that he thinks something’s there, that he feels that bullshit spark that he swore was missing in your relationship.

What were you meant to say?

But then he’d apologised, recognised it was too soon, begged to stay friends. Friends—like a platonic relationship is in any way gift receipt redeemable. And ironically, hearing him out wasn’t even your biggest mistake, it was that wretched hug goodbye that you’d permitted you get.

It was as though that hug held everything unsaid. Your figure had moulded against his quite perfectly, and why wouldn’t it? He’s the only romantic embrace you’d known since you were a teenager.

And when you’d finally pulled away, separated the pieces of your heart that were finally greeting his again, you hadn’t realised that he’d think about that hug for weeks gone by, just like you.

All the way up until Christmas, which occurred two months after your sudden break-up.

It was the last time you saw him under the pretence of amicability, when you came by Tannyhill to drop off presents and see his family. Mostly him. It felt pathetic, even then; for all you knew, Elle was on his mind and you were somewhere insignificant.

Rafe’s pretty sure he’s fucking doomed.

Your laugh reverberates through Tannyhill like a siren song, and he’s pretty sure he’ll never not recognise the sound of it. It’s as though every bone in his body vibrates in tune to it—so unabashed, so freeing. Far more painful now than it used to be.

You’ve become so many Taylor Swift songs and none of them end happy.

He follows your sweet timbre to the hallway before he can help himself. Once upon a time—God, it feels so long ago now—he’d have been the first person you’d have texted before dropping by the house. Instead, as he stands paralysed at the foot of the stairs, it’s Sarah who’s hugging you, who gets to hold you in her arms.

Luckily for him, your eyes are closed in the embrace, and he’s afforded a second to recalibrate after taking you in. He’s known that you’re beautiful like his first memory on Earth, but that doesn’t mean your proximity leaves him any less winded. You’re fresh-faced with limbs that have an untouchable quality to them; you aren’t his to mark anymore, no longer his to ruin.

He can’t remember the last time he kissed you. He wants to remember so fucking bad. You’re slipping through his calloused fingers and fragments of you are all he has.

“You didn’t have to get us anything!” Sarah exclaims, pulling away faux-disprovingly.

“Hey, don’t do that, of course I did.” Your arms fall back to your side, and you open your eyes in tandem. When they flit past Sarah’s face and find Rafe’s instead, it feels as though someone has tipped ice-cold water down your singlet. A pause. “You’re family.”

Sarah notes the change in your tone with a frown, turning to look over her shoulder. “Oh,” she says, her expression hardening. “Sorry, Y/N/N. I didn’t know he was home.”

You swallow. “It’s no big,” you reply, forcing yourself to look back at her. “We’re alright, really. But I should go, I have a few more presents to drop off.”

Sarah frowns harder. “You sure you don’t want to stay a bit? I know Rose’d love to see you, we’ve all really missed having you around —”

“I’m sure,” you interrupt, handing her the bag of presents you’ve wrapped. “I’ll send her a text, okay? And listen,” you pause, your expression softening a little, “I know this holiday season’s going to be hard without your dad, and I want you to know that I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

Sarah’s eyes well with tears. “It’s going to be hard without you too, Y/N,” she murmurs. “You’re my sister.”

Your features sadden in tandem, and you give her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And I always will be. You know that.”

“You should come to Christmas, then,” she says hopefully.

“I —” you falter as your voice cracks, grimacing slightly, “— I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.”

When you turn around, something in Rafe’s chest cracks too. He’s still hanging on to that expression-softening catalyst from a moment prior, yearning hard for the feeling of being on the receiving end of your love.

“Why the fuck,” Sarah fumes, rounding on him once you’re out of earshot, “do you have to ruin everything you touch?”

Rafe doesn’t even have it in him to wince. “I don’t know,” he responds quietly, with an honesty that aches. “If I did, maybe I’d have found a way to fix it.”

Sarah takes pause. Slight disbelief transforms her features. “You have to still love her. How can’t you?”

“I don’t know, alright?” Rafe runs his hand through his hair slovenly. “I just — I’m not happy anymore. It’s not fucking there… I don’t know if it’ll ever come back.”

“What isn’t?”

“The… the spark.”

“Bullshit,” Sarah spits out, accusatory. “The ‘spark’ is fucking bullshit, Rafe. You’re telling me you’ve felt it the entire time you’ve known her? You’re telling me this doesn’t have anything to do with dad’s death?”

Rafe swallows thickly, discomfort coating his throat. “I don’t, alright? All I know is I can’t give her what she needs right now; I don’t know if I ever will.”

To this day, he doesn’t know about your detour that evening — how instead of driving home, you took a left to the look-out where you shared your first kiss. He doesn’t know that the waves crashing ashore bore witness to your heartbreak; that sunset orange painted your tear-streaked cheeks a gentler amber. Caressed them, subdued them, where he no longer could. He doesn’t know you agonised over how much his hair had grown in your absence, the subtle stubble on his jaw, the stark outline of his biceps.

The him that’s foreign to you, now; the him that’s Elle’s and not yours.

At twenty-four years old, Rafe Cameron doesn’t know fucking anything.

Of course, once he does eventually recognise that his ‘something there’ with Elle is a rebound, it’s too late to entertain returning to you with his tail between his legs.

He can’t. Not after everything he’s put you through in the past. So he allows regret to caulk his limbs and bitterness to coat his insides, and Rafe Cameron does what he does best — pushes it down and ignores it.

Which brings him here, a non-attendee to his best friend’s wedding and an hour late to his reception.

He sidles into the venue through a pair of double doors, and the first thing he notices is the dimmed sconces and muted fairy lights. It’s the first thing, because perplexingly, the crowd is hard to discern but you glow anyway. A spotlight illuminates the centre of the room where Brooklyn and Kelce share their first dance, but they don’t draw his gaze, your beautiful features do.

Of course you do, in your strappy cowl neck slip. There’s less periwinkle fabric than he’d anticipated, more exposed limbs, and Rafe feels like he’s run a fucking marathon as he takes you in. And your pretty eyes and glossy lips cascade into a bare neck; soft skin that’s forgotten his rough touch, his bruising kisses.

It’s momentary lust that his regret promptly squashes. He can’t think those thoughts about you anymore, even if they’re almost second nature. Even if he’s spent more tangible years of his life as your boyfriend than he has a fucking stranger.

That’s what you guys are meant to be right now: strangers. His stomach coils. His tired eyes search for the open bar on instinct.

Once he’s acquired a whiskey neat and a glass of champagne, he pulls through the crowd and makes toward your figure.

You aren’t as lucky as he is to mentally prepare for a reunion. When he holds out the shimmering flute and prompts your gaze toward him, there’s a split-second of slack-jawed diffidence before you find your common sense.

God, you wish he wasn’t so easy to stare at.

He’s wearing an expression that isn’t yours anymore, with his thick brows furrowed and lips slightly parted. Yearning, but he can’t be. His blue eyes make your heart leap. Your gaze lifts before it falls, taking in his damp hair, his larger than ever frame. Both feel unfamiliar; he’s shed the skin and aureate curls your fingers once traced. Same notes of patchouli on his neck, though you note the absence of the silver chain you once bought him for Christmas.

Does he still have it, somewhere, hidden in a shoebox under his bed? (His hand is so close to your chest, it feels like you’re dying.) Is it as painful for him to see you like this after months and months of no contact?

Can’t be. Shouldn’t be. The ache may linger, agonisingly, but you’re stronger now than you were when he first ended things.

“Oh,” is all you can muster, accepting the flute of champagne. When your fingers brush, you reprimand the jolt of static. Lust may be hard to shake, but you resolve to let logic prevail. “Thanks.”

Rafe feels it too, harder, more unbearable. “Don’t mention it.”

You break eye contact to look out into the crowd, though it’s a struggle finding anything to focus on. “When’d you arrive?”

“Five minutes ago,” he admits, staring at your side profile for a second longer than he probably should. He analyses the glittery stuff on your cheekbones—highlighter?—for traces of a familiar feeling. “Work shit.”

“Ah,” you reply, raising your eyebrows at him. “Some things never change, huh?”

Rafe winces. “Look, Y/N, I —”

“I’m kidding, Rafe, relax,” you interrupt, sending him a small smile. It makes his stomach turn. “It’s all going well, I hope?”

“It is, yeah,” he responds, smiling in tandem. “Ish. Still doing a fuck tonne of late nights and weekends.”

“Bummer.” It feels strange, making small talk in this way. Strange, though not particularly as awful as you’d predicted. “How’re Rose and your sisters?”

“Yeah, they’re good,” they miss you, “Sarah’s going to UCLA in the fall.”

You nod. “She told me.”

Something in Rafe’s chest drops. He turns to you, his piercing gaze making your skin burn. “I didn’t realise you guys kept in touch.”

“We’ve always been really close. You know that.”

Because of me. “Right.” His eyes fall to your throat as you take another pull of champagne, smooth and unblemished and painfully foreign. “I’m glad.”

You turn to him then, an unreadable expression on your face. “Me too.”

A beat. The pair of you stare at each as the surroundings buzz into static.

“Listen, Rafe, I —”

“Y/N, I’ve been —”

You falter first, scrunching up your face abashedly. “Sorry. You go.”

“I…” Rafe pauses, running his calloused palm through his hair, “I guess I just want to apologise. For everything.”

Your eyes widen, and you turn away from him abruptly. “Rafe, I don’t know if now is the best time to have this conversation.”

“Shit, I know. I know I’m about five months too late and don’t deserve to be heard out.”

“Well,” you pause, chewing on your bottom lip apprehensively. Your voice quietens. “Maybe not at a wedding.”

Or ever. You tip back the rest of your champagne just as the slow dance fades out, breaking away from him. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Rafe fucking hopes so. He needs a clean slate if it’ll kill him. He nods reluctantly, watching you disappear into the crowd in front of him. The ache in his chest crescendos as the physical distance swallows you completely.

—

“We love you,” Brooklyn mouthes, blowing you a kiss through the open window. The limousine she’s in stretches forward with jet-black grandiosity, its ignition blaring alive as you catch it in mid-air.

When you blow one back, Kelce peeks over her shoulder and sends you a wink. The pair of them wave to the wedding-goers surrounding you before the vehicle pulls forward, leaving you in its dust. You watch them exit the Island Club gates, and a sense of bittersweet melancholia finds home in your chest.

That should’ve been you. You turn around as the crowd begins to disperse and find yourself face to face with Rafe once again.

“Oh,” you say, looking up at him in surprise. When your expression relaxes—in recognition—his chest pulls in tandem. “They’re sweet, huh?”

Us; that should’ve been us. Rafe nods, smiling wistfully. “Can you believe you’re the one that set them up?”

“At your holiday house,” you return, smiling in tandem. “This was a two-person wing man job.”

“Nah. You were the one that saw their potential.” A pause. “You’ve always been really good at that.”

Your brow furrows. “At setting people up?”

“At seeing their potential,” Rafe corrects. An unreadable emotion crosses his blue irises. “Even when they don’t deserve it.”

Your expression falters. You aren’t sure what to say to this, so you don’t say anything at all.

“Listen,” Rafe tries again, scratching the back of his neck, “d’you need a ride?”

“Well…”

You hesitate, looking over his shoulder for your parents. When you spot them, they’re in avid conversation with some family friends; they look extremely comfortable, like they’re going to be dawdling until God knows when.

You’re searching for justification even though he doesn’t deserve it. After all the pain he’s caused you, your wretched heart still yearns for more.

Fucking sadist.

“Actually, yeah,” you finish after a beat, bringing your gaze back to him. “That’d be great, thank you.”

His shoulders relax. “Yeah, of course. You have all your things?”

“Uh huh.”

“This way.”

You allow him to guide you to his pick-up trunk, pretend that you didn’t discern it right away. Besides, you were meant to have forgotten the location of his unofficial ‘official’ parking spot. So you follow him toward it, deny the familiarity of its number plate, and act like every dent and wretched scratch isn’t a piece of your heart.

“Shit—ow!” You curse, hurtling forward as you stall, again. “This is fucking impossible, Rafe. I quit.”

Rafe grins perplexedly, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Baby,” he placates, “if Top can learn to drive manual, anyone can.”

You make a frustrated noise, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not me, clearly.”

Rafe lets out a laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt so he can pull you into his lap. “C’mere.”

When he does so—with entirely too much ease—he pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb so he can guide your lips against his. It’s an unhurried kiss, a sure press of emotion, as though he’s rousing the embers that live within your ribcage.

He has this funny way of leaving you out of breath no matter how chaste the embrace. You break away reluctantly, raising your eyebrows at him. “So is this the reward system you used when you were teaching him to drive, hot-shot?”

Rafe makes a face, dipping his head to sponge a kiss to your neck. “Why? You jealous?”

“Never,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. “You wouldn’t dream of leaving me for someone else, Rafe Cameron. The Figure Eight wouldn’t forgive you if you did.”

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did.” Another teeth-scraping kiss. “I’d be crazy to let you go. I’ve been in love with you since we were freshman.”

He doesn’t open the passenger’s side door for you after unlocking his pick-up truck. That isn’t his place anymore.

He wants to, anyway. You want him to, badly. This revelation passes unsaid between the two of you as you climb into the seat yourself, unscathed by chivalry.

Once you’re buckled in, your gaze lifts to the new air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. “Huh,” you say, flicking it absently, “you replaced it.”

He wants to say, you left me no choice. He wants to say, old spice smells like you. “Oh yeah,” he replies instead, clearing his throat. “Rose got me it.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

He shifts into reverse and backs out of the park, and there’s a split second where he almost places his hand on your headrest. He can’t do that anymore. Too close; not close enough. You notice it too. An ache passes from his heart to yours.

“Are you going to take any time off over summer break?” You ask, keeping your gaze on the road ahead.

Rafe pulls out onto the main road before turning to you and responding, “I wasn’t planning on it, but I think I might need some.”

“I think you might need some too,” you agree, sending him a fleeting smile. “Bahamas?”

You don’t expect the tears in his eyes that follow. You straighten abruptly, your eyebrows pulling together. “Sorry, I didn’t mean —”

“No—shit, I just—” he falters as his voice cracks, clearing his throat again, “I don’t think I could go back there any time soon. Too many memories.”

Your expression softens. “Your dad, of course. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about.” He takes in a jagged breath. “Shit, I’m the one that should be apologising. For everything.”

“Rafe —”

“No, listen…”

He pauses as he turns left onto your street, pulling onto the side of the road as soon as he can. He’s still a good mile away from your house, but it feels an injustice to keep you waiting for an explanation. When he turns and angles his body toward you, there’s a brokenness on his face that makes your miserable heart falter.

“I’m… I’m so sorry for everything I put you through after I broke up with you. Even if that was what I needed at the time, even if it was the right decision, I shouldn’t have been so fucking heartless and I regret not reaching out to you more often.”

You swallow thickly. He takes your silence as encouragement to keep going.

“You deserved better than the way I treated you… you’ve always deserved better than me. I didn’t know how to deal with all of my grief and I pushed you away in the process. It was… fuck, it was so selfish of me, and I’m sorry. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t hate myself for it.”

He’s taken all of the oxygen in the car, and you find yourself struggling for air. You turn to him, every drunken rationalisation manifest. “Thank you,” you whisper, “for saying that.”

“And listen, the Elle thing —”

Too much. “Rafe,” you interrupt, swallowing again. “Stop. It’s fine. I accept your apology.”

Rafe frowns, the furrow in his brow painfully evident. “Yeah? Because… because I’d understand if you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you affirm, turning away from him. “Besides, it’s ancient history. I forgave you a long time ago in my head.”

“You did?” Rafe’s asks, searching your features in earnest. “Why?”

The champagne you’ve consumed swirls uncomfortably in your stomach. “I had to,” you say quietly. “It was the only way I was going to be able to move on from the situation.”

Rafe’s stomach drops. “Which you have.”

“Which I have.”

The smokescreen between you smothers any semblance of hope you might’ve shared. He nods, turning on the ignition once again. “I hope that means you’re happy, Y/N.”

“It does,” you reply, “I am.”

“Good.” It doesn’t feel good at all. “Maybe this means we can be friends.”

You turn to him again, raising your eyebrows. “Friends?”

“Like we were before,” he affirms, putting the car into drive. His fingers brush the bare skin of your thigh near the gearshift. A very unfriend-like jolt of static shoots into your chest. “I… I don’t know. Sometimes I think I just miss my best friend.”

Your heart sighs. “Me too.”

“Friends then.”

“Yeah,” you reply, sending him a small smile. “Friends.”

—

You haven’t been to Shake Shack since you broke up with Rafe. You didn’t even realise you’d evaded it so long; perhaps it was a subconscious thing, too many painful memories to bear.

You remember when it first opened up in the Banks, this egalitarian refuge nestled between the Cut and Figure Eight.

Rafe Cameron remembers too, remembers bringing you here on your very first date. Roguish at fourteen with endless charm and a handsome face, he had far less creases etched onto his forehead then; far less familial expectations to deal with.

If only you knew he’s evaded it too. When he pulls into the carpark, the aforementioned date comes forth in fragments.

When memories lie dormant so long in one’s head, they tend to lose the stitches that hold them together. Nervousness, excitement, cherry coke and a lilac singlet. The strange feeling of forever before either of you could place it. He doesn’t remember any of your conversation, nor how long the date lasted, but he remembers the cloudless sky, the flutter of new love in his stomach.

The pair of you share a look before exiting his pick-up truck. A look that says: uh oh, and insinuates far more than that.

“So how’s work going, anyway?” Rafe asks, shoving his hands into his front pockets. He’s a beat behind you head toward the entrance, and you can feel your neck burn where his eyes remained trained on you.

“Yeah, alright, same old,” you say, sending him a fleeting smile over your shoulder. His blue irises are dappled golden in sunlight, and their brilliance unsteadies you, the eye-contact like a firestarter. You clear your throat. “Sam quit.”

Rafe’s eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”

“Not kidding,” you shake your head, “he ended things with Peyton and booked a Contiki in South East Asia.”

“Shiiiiiit,” Rafe wolf whistles, shaking his head in tandem. “Is he going through some kind of quarter life crisis?”

You shrug. “Who would let someone like Peyton go, huh?”

Rafe resists the urge to wince. He can think of one person in particular who threw away something far more special. He clears his throat significantly, regret like molasses coating the sides of his windpipe. “Yeah. How’s she doing with it all?”

“Oh you know Peyton, she’s the queen of acting unbothered,” you reply, sounding reproachful. “Even when she’s heartbroken, she refuses to tell me about it.”

Rafe frowns. “Fuck that.”

“Yeah?” You send him a wayward glance, raising your eyebrows knowingly. “Cause to me, it sounds like someone else I used to know.”

There’s a pause as he meets your gaze, a frightening wistfulness passing between you. It lingers.

“Right.” You’re at the entrance to Shake Shack now, and Rafe grapples for purchase on the one thing he can control—friends. He pulls open the door and beckons you forward, “So. Is today the day you branch out and order something new, Y/N?”

When you pass by him, a tendril-like brush of shoulder on chest, the buttery scent of your vanilla perfume lingers. A lot about you does, a lot more than he’d care to admit.

Rafe’s wretched heart cycles between the old and new you like it’s trying to make them both fit within its chambers.

“Don’t think I have a choice,” you reply, sending him a smile over your shoulder. “They’ve completely revamped their menu since the last time we were here.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows at you. “They have?” You checked?

“Uh huh,” you reply, nodding. “I was going to make a reservation here for our anniversary way back when.” You clear your throat. “When I went on their website to do so, I realised that their menu was totally different.”

You leave out the part where you’d stopped by soon after, asked—no, begged—the manager to serve you the originals when you came. You know, when old time’s sake was a sacred concept. When that sweet, lovesick version of you still existed.

“Oh shit,” Rafe says. Though it’s subtle, he catches the smidge of diffidence in your voice, like the ghost of relationship’s past rearing its ugly head. You checked, for him, and you’re so nonchalant about it. Like it may have mattered then, but right now it matters far less.

He feels an awful twinge in his chest. He adds, “That sucks.” He isn’t sure whether he’s referring to the change in menu or the change in your heart’s purpose.

“I know.”

“I was looking forward to ordering the usual.”

“Me too.” You shrug. “We’re just going to have to find a new usual, I guess.”

What you mean is, make new memories that’ll replace the old ones. What you mean is, erase the nostalgia being here brings.

Also, though you’d never willingly admit it, start anew.

Rafe nods, stepping forward and glancing up at the menu. Though it’s different to the one he remembers from his youth, the interior of the diner is comfortingly familiar — same ugly yellow track lights, same checkered linoleum underfoot. Same fingerprint-smudged counter and broken drinks machine, same uniform on the workers, same greasy smell permeating.

And the same booth you were partial to nestled in one corner, it’s retro cushion covers faded as ever.

The menu, and the girl beside him. The only two things that feel different.

“Hm.” You frown, deliberating over the menu. “I’m thinking the ‘classic’. You want to split some curly fries?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, his blue eyes full of mirth. “So the one that’s exactly your old order, minus the pickles. Got it.”

“Yes,” you decide. “Except I’ll ask them to add pickles.”

“Of course you will.” Rafe grins. “I’ll get the same.”

You gasp, faux-scandalised. “Rafe Cameron eating pickles? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “How d’you know I’m not just ordering it to pawn ‘em off to you?”

You balk. “I don’t, I guess.”

“And yes, to the curly fries,” he adds, quick to change the subject. The bashfulness on your features dissipates, but the tension in the room weighs ever-present.

You nod, sliding your wallet out of your back-pocket. “Should we just split the bill, then?”

“No way,” Rafe says, clasping your wrist to hold it in place. Your pulse feels funny. “I got it.”

“Rafe.” You frown, shaking your head. “Look, it really isn’t a big deal —”

It is to me. “Exactly,” he interrupts. “Which is why I got it.”

Maybe you should argue some more, insist on paying until he gives in. But you don’t. Between the pulse-jolting closeness and mocking sense of nostalgia, you aren’t sure you have it in you to retaliate.

Though in an act of rebellion, you avoid your usual booth. Once you’re seated at a new table and separated by your burgers, you re-enter this stupid friendship thing you’ve adopted. The one that boasts no-strings like the red one isn’t obvious.

“So,” you say, popping a curly fry in your mouth. “You remember Maya, right?”

Rafe makes a face. “That psycho roommate you had in senior year? Yeah, pretty hard to forget.”

“Well, she hit me up a month ago to let me know she’d be in the Banks to see her boyfriend.” At his audible gasp, you nod significantly. “I know. Asked if I wanted to catch up while she was here.”

Rafe wolf whistles in amusement. “No fucking way. After the Hell she put you through?”

“I fucking know,” you reply, grimacing in disdain.

Rafe raises his eyebrows, swallowing down a handful of curly fries. “Tell me you said no.”

You raise yours in tandem. “What do you think, casanova?”

“Y/N!” He groans, shaking his head. “Why do you put yourself through this shit?”

You frown, reaching for your soda and sipping stubbornly. Condensation rolls down your palm, the soft skin shining. “C’mon! It was useful, I swear. I got the intel on Maya and her mystery OBX man.”

Rafe leans forward in interest, taking a pull of his soda too. “Go on then.”

“God, I’ve been sitting on this information for ages,” you say, your pretty eyes full of excitement. Rafe’s heart leaps. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out, but we weren’t talking and you were avoiding me and I didn’t know whether I should break no contact.”

It deflates just as quickly, sinking into his stomach like deadweight. “I wasn’t… I don’t know, I thought it’d be best if I kept my distance.” He sighs, sitting back and raking his fingers through his hair. “Clearly that was a mistake. I haven’t been this relaxed in fucking ages.”

You smile small. “Yeah. This is nice.”

“Nice.”

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, this sticky, molasses-like something rising from your chest, “it’s Dylan. Like Dylan fucking Young that had a crush on me in freshman year.”

“Fuck off, seriously?” Rafe replies, mirth evident on his features. “Not kidding, think it’d be grounds for a restraining order if she ever found that out.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You exclaim, raising your eyebrows significantly. “You promise to take this to your grave, Cameron?”

Rafe nods, faux-somber, extending his pinky toward you. “He won’t hear it from me, Y/L/N.”

When your fingers entwine, you wonder whether he feels it too. It’s a jolt of static that leaves your skin warm and your insides funny, and you wonder whether the effect it has on you is endearing or pathetic.

The latter, you conclude. The red string of fate disagrees.

“Good,” you say, retrieving your hand. “Oh, and,” you take a generous bite of your burger, “did you hear that Taylor’s moving to Texas?”

“I did, actually,” Rafe replies. “From Top, funnily enough.”

You frown. “He’s still pining, huh?”

“Unfortunately.” He pulls apart his burger to pick out the green pickles, placing them onto your plate before re-assembling. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. In the offensive, fluorescent lighting, they shine up at you in mocking. “Anyway, I should probably learn to get used to it. I’m moving into Kelce’s room now that he’s happily wed.”

Your jaw slackens in surprise. “You’re moving in with Topper?”

Rafe grins. “I know. Who would’ve thought, huh?”

“But,” you pause, popping another curly fry into your mouth, “why?”

“Needed to get out of Tannyhill, I guess.” He falters, swallowing down the bile-like rise of emotion from his chest. “Too many memories.”

Your expression softens. “That makes sense.”

“Besides, Sarah’s starting college soon, and Wheeze’s off at boarding school for the majority of the year anyway.” He shrugs. “And Rose… well, she’s at the Bahamas house more than she is in the OBX.”

“Too many memories,” you repeat, frowning sadly.

“Yeah. I guess.”

There’s silence then, the comfortable kind. An emotion passes between you that feels both familiar and new at the same time.

It matters less when you finally finish, what you speak about, whether you’ll meet again. All you know is, something feels different now, as though there’s embers that this reunion has reignited in your ribcage. Dormant though they had once been, you’d always hoped that the renewed hope would set them aflame.

The next day, you wake up to a text from Rafe.

thank you for yesterday. It was really nice.

You don’t have it in you to reply; Rafe doesn’t mind. He knows you feel the same way.

—

It’s a few weeks before you see him again, at a farewell party for Brooklyn and Kelce.

Prior to embarking on their honeymoon, they were shifting their lives to Chicago; laying down the foundations of stability so they could return to a clean slate.

It upsets you to no end. You’d always assumed that her marriage to Kelce would guarantee that she settles down in the Banks.

Rafe Cameron must remember this, the way he does everything else. He hands you a beer and clinks his own against it, beads of condensation sliding over his calloused hand.

“Huh,” he murmurs, shaking his head in faux-disappoint, “so much for staying here and ruling the Eight with an iron fist.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You exclaim, taking a generous pull of beer. Rafe’s gaze falls to the bare column of your throat, and he temporarily loses his bearings. “Does loyalty mean absolutely nothing around here?”

Rafe grins appreciatively. “They’re bound to come back, you know.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Because,” Rafe pauses, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “we were all cursed by the hometown witch when we were babies.”

You let out a peal of laughter. “Is that why I came back here after college?”

It isn’t lost on you that Rafe is standing far closer to you than he should. His spicy, cedar-wood cologne presses over your figure in waves. He bows his head to eye level, still grinning his mirth, “It’s why we all did. It’s also why they aren’t going to last more than a year in Chicago, I’m calling it now.”

“Who isn’t going to last more than a year in Chicago?” Comes Brooklyn’s voice from behind him, pulling the pair of you from your reverie.

He breaks away and turns to find her standing behind him, her eyebrows raised accusatorially at your closeness.

You smile guiltily at her, raising your arms in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t deny it either!” Brooklyn reproaches, faux-scandalised. She sends Rafe a playful glare, reaching for your arm and pulling you away. “I’m rescuing her from your bad influence, Cameron.”

Rafe nods sagely, taking a sip of his beer. “I think that’s wise, Astor—” he balks, shaking his head, “—sorry, Smith. Shit, Brooklyn Smith, huh? Guess I can’t do that last name thing ‘round here anymore, can I?”

“Not with us,” she replies, turning the pair of you around. She sends you the ghost of a wink before adding, “Y/N’s fair game, though. You know she’d rather die than take a guy’s last name.”

Something in Rafe’s chest deflates. “Yeah?”

You frown at him over your shoulder, mildly bewildered. “You knew that, Cameron.”

Maybe I thought I was different. “True.” He raises his beer bottle in acknowledgement. “Besides, Y/L/N suits you too much.”

Not as much as Cameron would have, once upon a time. You nod approvingly, the twinge in your heart conveying the exact opposite. “Doesn’t it just?”

Brooklyn steers you to the kitchen under the pretence of grabbing a drink, her true intentions becoming obvious when Kelce pivots into earshot on his barstool.

“So?” She prods, rounding on you once you’ve halted. “What’s the deal?”

“Deal?” You echo, feigning confusion. “What deal?”

“Don’t do that,” she replies, narrowing her eyes accusatorially. “Are you guys seeing each other again?”

You swallow. Your gaze darts to a helpless-looking Kelce. “Why? Has he said something?”

“That’s the thing,” Kelce mutters, shaking his head thoughtfully. “He hasn’t. But he’s… different.”

You frown. “Different how?”

“I don’t know… chiller. Happier. Like he was before Ward passed away.”

“Of course he is,” Brooklyn snorts, not buying it for a second. “He’s finally being absolved of all his guilt!”

“Brooklyn…” you sigh.

“What? It’s true!” She asserts, crossing her arms across her chest. “He’s… listen, Y/N, whatever you think this is, you need to snap out of it. He’s proved time and time again that he doesn’t have the emotional capability to deal with his shit, and you’ve been made collateral too many times to forgive him this quick.”

“Quick?” Your chest feels on fire. Isn’t seven months of torture enough exoneration?

“C’mon baby, you’ve gotta cut him some slack,” Kelce assuages, gentle but firm. “He fucked up, sure, but he also lost his dad, remember?”

“Grieving or not, he shouldn’t have pushed her away.”

“Granted, but we’ll never know exactly how he was feeling —”

“We shouldn’t have to, you just don’t do that to someone you love —”

“I’m still here, you know,” you interrupt quietly, frowning. “That someone that Rafe doesn’t love.”

A pause. Its silence that’s distilled in the overhead lighting, the scene beneath it awash in dim regret.

Brooklyn’s features are softer when she breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I worry about you.”

You know she does; it isn’t her fault. She’s the one that slept over for four weeks straight post break-up, forced food down your throat and wiped away all your tears.

“Don’t apologise, Brooke, I get it,” you say, sending her a small smile. “But I’m fine, I promise. This isn’t even… this feels different.”

“Different how?”

“Like… you know that saying: ‘You’ll never find the same person twice, not even in the same person’? That’s how this feels. We haven’t fallen back into old habits.”

Brooklyn regards this for a moment, surveying your features carefully. “But you’ve been hanging out?”

“Only once,” you reply honestly. “Sent a few texts back and forth, that’s all. If… if anything were to happen, it’d be like a new relationship, not like restarting the old one. You know?”

“I do.”

Kelce smiles. “That’s… shit, that makes sense.” There’s a wistfulness to his voice. “That’s why I couldn’t figure out what it reminds me of, this different him that’s chilled and happy.”

You furrow your brow. “Hm?”

“It’s freshman year him all over again,” he explains. “You know… when the two of you got close the first time ‘round.”

“Oh.” Your heart soars. “Square one, huh?”

Kelce shrugs, sharing a meaningful look with Brooklyn. “Square one I guess.”

You’re about to respond when Rafe’s figure pulls your gaze, his crossed arms and broad shoulders blocking the kitchen entrance. He’s wearing a handsome expression and his hair is perfectly unkempt, the heady scent of his cologne juxtaposing his lack of proximity.

Sometimes, life is unfair. Your ex-boyfriend, now new friend, eliciting such un-platonic thoughts is one of those instances.

And it isn’t as though you’ve given Rafe much of a break, his blue eyes caught on your figure like a moth to a flame. You aren’t wearing a dress he recognises, which is both a delightful and agonising revelation.

Delightful, because it reveals bare expanses of skin that make his wretched hands itch in longing. Agonising, because it’s a reminder of the seven long months that he’s had to spend grappling with your absence.

Having a smile as pretty as yours is extremely unfair, all things considered. And eyes. Soft skin. He needs to stop staring before he does something stupid.

“Perfect,” he announces brusquely, “are we hosting our intervention now?”

He looks at you expectantly. You raise your eyebrows. “You know,” he adds, “the one where we beg them to stay in the Banks?”

“Hey!” Brooklyn exclaims, her green eyes full of mirth. “What d’you mean stay in the Banks? Newsflash, I’m not even from here.”

“You’re not from Chicago either, Ast-Smithy,” he returns significantly, sending her a meaningful glance. “Besides, you married into a Figure Eight family. You are very officially one of us now.”

“Not for long!” Brooklyn sings, sending you a wink.

“C’mon, Smith,” Rafe tries, turning to Kelce and feigning disappointment. “What happened to our sacred pact?”

“We were eight, Cameron.”

“And already privy to the tragedy of small-town life,” Rafe sighs faux-dramatically, nodding in agreement. “I’m bitter, alright? I thought I’d be the first one to get out of here.”

He glances over at you fleetingly as he says this. We’d be the first ones, his heart corrects in vain.

“As if,” you scoff, raising your eyebrows. “Mr Cameron fucking Development leave this place before me? No chance.”

Rafe grins roguishly, his blue eyes shining with amusement. “You’re all talk, Y/L/N. We both know it.” He sends Kelce and Brooklyn a meaningful glance. “We all are.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going to be here all fucking night if we keep arguing about this,” Brooklyn decides, patting Kelce’s thigh to prompt him to stand. “C’mon, baby, we should probably get back to mingling.”

“You know,” she adds, narrowing her eyes playfully. “‘Cause it’s the last time we’ll see some of these people.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head bemusedly. Any retaliation on Rafe’s tongue fails at the timbre of it.

Once they’re out of sight, you turn to him, adopting a faux-somber look. “If we are truly doomed to a life in the Eight, will you promise me something?”

He’s still grappling with the fact that he’s a man starved of your beautiful laugh, now reborn. “Go on.”

“Should you find me yelling at Island Club employees about flower arrangements or charcuterie boards, shoot me.”

Rafe laughs, and it reverberates through your bones warmly. “And suffer alone? No way. I’ll meet you in the middle. Lobotomy?”

“No thoughts in my brain? So generous,” you tease. “Alright. It’s a deal.”

Rafe clinks his beer bottle against yours in confirmation, taking a generous pull of the bubbly liquid. “Can we trade promises?” He asks.

You take a sip in tandem, maintaining eye contact as you do so. There’s tension in the air, that familiar-new feeling manifest, and it’s no longer frightening, but rather a comforting embrace.

You marvel in it. Breaking free feels fruitless. “Yes.”

“If you make a plan to settle elsewhere, will you tell me?”

“Of course I will.” A pause. “Although, I think you’re right. I don’t think any of us are truly capable of leaving permanently.”

“If anyone is though, it’s you,” he says, so matter-of-factly, like he actually believes it. “I mean… you’re the only one who had the balls to go to a college out of state. The rest of us just accepted a cushy offer at UNC.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss. “I was back here so often I barely left.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “Only because you had a reason to come back.” You still do, if you’ll take me.

I still do, if you’ll take me. “True.” You frown, thinking on this for a moment. “Even so… I don’t know. Maybe it’s that hometown curse talking, but I wouldn’t want to raise my kids anywhere else in the States.”

Rafe’s gaze steadies, pulsing through you in waves. “I get that. We had a pretty sweet childhood, all things considered.”

You make a face. “Like, I don’t think I can deal with this iPad kid epidemic. Least we were sheltered from all that crap, you know?”

“Yeah,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows significantly. “Even if there were plenty of other things to jade us with.”

“Shit, I know,” you respond, laughing bemusedly. “See, only people from the Eight know how political beach clean ups can get.”

Rafe chuckles in tandem, taking another sip of his beer. “God, our lives are fucking ridiculous.”

You raise your bottle in agreement. A comfortable silence falls between you.

After pause, Rafe speaks up again. “You know,” he says quietly, an unnameable emotion flickering across his blue irises. “I don’t even think it’s everyone in the Eight.”

You balk. “Hm?”

“The whole, knowing each other thing,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’ve always understood me better than anyone else.”

Your traitorous heart leaps, and you force yourself to ignore it. Actions have always spoken louder than words, and you decide now’s as good a time as any to confront him about this.

It’s time to be brave, you decide. You say, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“Elle.”

Rafe’s miserable heart falters, penitence like a lump in his throat. He’s been preparing for this accusation since your very first reunion, but it still doesn’t feel like enough; he’s a coward trembling at the frontlines, anyway.

“I’ve… we’ve… my therapist and I have talked about that situation at length.”

You eyes widen in surprise. “Your therapist?”

“I’ve been going to therapy, yeah,” Rafe replies, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “For a month or so now, every week without fail.”

It isn’t lost on you that Brooklyn and Kelce’s wedding was a month ago. The rift in your ribcage widens.

“Has it been helping?” You ask.

“A bit,” Rafe admits. “Mostly just to validate what I knew all along, I guess.” At your silence, he continues, “That… shit, that I’ve got this problem where I push people away when I need them the most. The Elle thing, there’s no fucking excuse for it, none, but it became pretty obvious after you confronted me that she was just a rebound.”

“A rebound,” you echo.

“A distraction, an escape… I don’t know.” He rakes his fingers through his hair slovenly. “All I know is, I didn’t care about her, so I didn’t have to push her away. She didn’t make me talk about my dad, my grief, anything, so she was easy enough company to have around when I felt like it.”

“Oh.” You swallow. “But I did.”

“But you did,” Rafe affirms, grimacing sheepishly. “Shit, all you fucking did was care about me and all I did was push you away.”

You try to be pragmatic. “Grief makes people do shitty things.”

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t deserve it.”

“True.” A pause. Your gaze falls over Rafe’s face in paces, his haggard expression making you soften. “Listen. I’m glad you’re going to therapy, seriously. I know that’s a pretty big step for you to take.”

For you. “Thank you,” he replies quietly. “It… I just wish I’d listened to you the first time, you know? When you’d told me to go to therapy before I’d ended things.”

Your throat feels funny. “No use living in the past.”

“You’re right,” Rafe replies. A pause. The ghost of a smile flickers over his features. “What did I ever do to deserve your forgiveness?”

You smile in tandem, a little rueful. “Maybe you were a martyr in your past life, Cameron.”

“And you’re one in this one,” Rafe responds. “You know, after I lobotomise you over flower arrangements and charcuterie boards. Does that count as a full circle moment?”

You grin. “Not when you live on the Eight. Infinity sign, baby.”

It slips out before you can stop yourself, the ghost of pet-names past pushing Rafe’s pulse to fibrillation. Your eyes widen abashedly. “Should we rejoin the party?”

Rafe nods, “Probably,” and then, when you’re just out of earshot, “I’d do something stupid if we didn’t.”

—

Over the next few weeks, you begin to see more and more of one another.

A few texts back and forth become more than a few virtual trysts, and every spare moment you have is dedicated to being in each other’s presence.

And it isn’t as though you’re mending old love, this feels like something else altogether. Though old memories may flit through your brain on occasion, they are boundless and free — they don’t define this connection.

You’re starting anew. Rafe realises it too.

He still remembers how it felt to tell you he loved you the first time around, fourteen years old with a bashful smile and enough hope in his heart to ache. He still remembers what you were wearing the first time he drove you around; the first time you came to UNC to visit; the shade of lipgloss you worshipped from Sephora. And you remember it all too, the feeling of being in his pick-up, of being with this roguish, freshman boy that had so much charm your insides soared.

Going through it all again feels like receiving a new lease on life. How lucky are you to love a different person in the same man?

Currently, the pair of you are sprawled out on beach towels, velvet dusk revealing the bespangled sky stretching above you. Beside you, take-out boxes and sodas lie in the sand, discarded. Every now and then, his wrist brushes yours with a jolt of static.

You’re lying closer to each other than you should, his body heat pressing over you in paces. He’s pretty sure his clothes are going to smell like your soft-toned, vanilla perfume later, and he quietly delights in this.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You smile. “Shocker.”

He nudges your shoulder with his in faux-admonishment, turning his head toward you. It lingers; he’s closer. Your pulse feels boundless. “I’ve been thinking,” he repeats. “And I’ve realised something.”

You turn your head in tandem, his proximity making you balk. “What’s that, Cameron?”

“If we hadn’t broken up in the first place, I’d probably never have gone to therapy.”

A hush falls. “True.”

“And I’d never have worked through my emotional unavailability and all the problematic shit that comes with it.” He pauses, a heavy emotion making his blue eyes somber. “We’d have stayed together, but I’d never have become the man that you deserve.”

You swallow. “Is that what you are now?” You murmur, your voice unsure. “The man I deserve?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers quietly. “Don’t think I ever will be. But… but I’m working on it, properly this time. And getting to know you again, for real, has made me realise just how worth it this is.”

It’s too much. You make to turn away but Rafe’s hand stops you, gentle but firm on your face. His thumb swipes over your warm cheek in comforting circles, and you find yourself leaning into his touch inadvertently.

Uh oh, you’re falling in love. You sigh. “It feels inevitable, huh?”

“D’you believe in soulmates, Y/N?”

Your lashes flutter shut in response. Rafe inches closer still, his hand slipping down to your jaw, and when he kisses you, old embers create a new flame within your heart. It’s chaste, unsure, a second first kiss. And yet, though it’s soft, the press of his lips is a ravaging embrace.

“Do you, Rafe?” You return, opening your eyes tentatively.

His gaze is still trained on your pretty mouth, less iris than pupil as his yearning transcends everything else. He presses his thumb on your lower lip gently. “Only if it’s you.”

“I think I am,” you murmur.

Rafe smiles. Oh no, he’s falling in love again. “I think you are too.”

—

I thought the plane was going down / How’d you turn it right around?

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Touch Me Baby

pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader

wc: 21.7k

cw: mad flirting, swearing, use of the f slur once, shattering glass, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, brief mentions of suicide, mentions of cheating, men being weird and implications of harassment, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (f recieving), minor praise kink, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, wrap it before you tap it kids

a/n: set in modern times with phones and everything! i've never written anything this long before, and I really hope you guys like it!!

“You literally look so fucking hot oh my god.” 

You rolled your eyes and checked yourself out in the mirror, smirking slightly. “I can feel you objectifying me Birdy.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and collapsed on to your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think it’s unfair that you aren’t so emotionally and deeply in love with me.” 

“Hey.” You peered over your shoulder, “I told you that I’d be your lesbian lover the second you needed one.” 

She sighed and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to do me out of pity. I want you to love me.” 

You walked over and kissed her head. “ I do love you.”

“Yeah Yeah. As a friend.” She teased as you laughed and moved over to your vanity. 

“Just because you’re not my type doesn't mean I don’t think you’re showstoppingly gorgeous.”

“Are you trying to get into my pants Y/l/n?” Robin teased. 

“You wish Buckley.” 

Robin let out the most over-dramatic sigh and collapsed on your bed again, giggling after a moment.  

You laughed at her antics and checked out your makeup, your earrings, and your rings in the mirror next to your door. “Is this cute enough?” 

“Did I not just say how hot—”

You and Robin had lived together for about three years now. You had become fast friends freshman year and then roommates for the last three years of your college experience. The apartment you shared was perfect because it had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the price didn’t rise once in your entire time living in NYC. The best perk of them all was having a home phone. It was reminiscent of your childhood and you both handed out your home phone number to everyone, enjoying the messages you received from anyone and everyone. 

It rang and immediately went to voicemail, as Robin had set it on vacation mode the second you moved in meaning every single phone call went directly to voicemail so you could both hear who it was. A man’s voice rang out through your shared apartment. 

“Hey it’s Steve, I just landed and I’m on my way to your place, I think it’s only a twenty-minute drive but I wanted to alert the household I was on my way.” 

You looked over at Robin, slightly uneasy. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.” 

Robin shrugged and her smile was a bit brighter. Her two best friends were about to meet, and maybe even hit it off and they could be a friend group—but Robin was getting ahead of herself. 

“You’re going to like him. The same level of snark, but definitely a softie under it all. And he’s my best friend, so I wouldn’t be friends with him if he sucked.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just call him your best friend in front of me and say that, I know he’s one of your best friends, which is why I’m worried. What if he thinks I’m a huge bitch or something, or like…I don’t know.” 

“He’ll love you.” 

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well. We have twenty minutes to fix up the house so that he doesn’t think we’re complete and total slobs or anything.” 

The two of you spent the next seventeen minutes unfolding your futon couch bed, frantically shoving trash in trash bins, and stuffing the dishwasher with dishes. You definitely weren’t slobs by any means, but sometimes it was easier to leave wine glasses or bottles on the coffee table, or just toss your bra onto the chair since you didn’t want to wear one anymore or…

“Which candle?” 

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the extra pillows from your room. “Does it matter?” You yelled back to Robin. 

“I don’t know!” 

“Well, he’s your home best friend. So whatever you think would suit the straight man you’re friends with.” You walked out and placed the two pillows on the pull-out bed. 

“Okay, I’m going with Midnight Citrus because it’s my favorite and he can suck it up.” 

“Whatever you say, girl….” 

Both of your heads turned when you heard the knock on the door. Robin literally shrieked as she barreled towards the door and you swear you could hear Steve laugh through it.

Robin definitely knocked something over on her way over and you spent the next thirty seconds picking up the bowl and its contents from off the floor.

You had seen pictures of Steve before. There were plenty around the house of the two of them by themselves or with other friends from their hometown, so you knew Steve was an attractive man, but something about seeing him in person was a whole different beast. 

And there were no pictures in the apartment to prep you for the fact that he had these thin wire-framed glasses. You could have sworn he sucked the literal breath out of you. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Steve smiled that same lopsided smile you had seen on the walls and you probably would have dragged him back to your bedroom right then and there if Robin wasn’t standing right there and staring at you with the most hopeful look on her face you had seen since her breakup during sophomore year. 

“It’s uh, it’s so good to finally meet you too. Heard so much about you.” You smiled at him and kept your hands awkwardly in your back pockets. 

Steve nodded. “Same here. She actually doesn’t shut up about you.” 

“I could say the same thing.” 

“Okay, no need to be rude.” Robin huffed and haphazardly tossed Steve’s bags onto the couch. 

You and Steve shared a quick look, both of you trying not to laugh. 

“Ready to go Stevie boy? I know you just landed but it’s a Friday and I want to go out.” 

He nodded. “I remember the text you sent me like last week as a reminder Robs. I just have to change.” 

“The bathroom is the second door on the right.” You smiled at him and watched as he grabbed things. 

You looked over at Robin. “Where exactly do you want to go out?”

Steve passed by you and you caught a hint of the cologne he had put on this morning. He closed the door and you had to blink a few times. “Sorry, where did you say?” 

“I was thinking we could just go to the Cubbyhole…” 

“Robin, we are not taking him to Cubbyhole and ruining our reputation there.” 

“It’s literally not that big of a deal.”

“Babe, we are not bringing your straight man friend to a lesbian bar.” 

“Fine then—”

“And definitely not Henrietta’s either.” You cut her off. 

Robin crossed her arms. “ Well, then where do YOU want to take him? Because I’m not going to—” 

“Girl, please. It’s like you have no faith in me. Who showed you both of those bars in the first place?” 

“Fine then.” 

You smiled at your victory and watched as Robin walked over to the little whiteboard you had in the hallway. Robin erased the bottom half of the words but kept the tally up top. “So where are we going tonight?” 

“Are you okay with more of a just ‘sitting and drinking’ bar instead of clubbing tonight? Or at least we start at a bar and then move on to clubs?” 

Robin’s face twisted, but then she conceded. “Ugh, fine.” 

“Why don’t we start at Nothing Really Matters?”

“Which one is that?” 

Steve popped out of the bathroom right as Robin asked that question, causing you to stutter a bit in your answer. 

Steve was wearing these blue jeans that fit his thighs his ass him so well, and some clearly well-loved white Nike sneakers. But what got you was the shirt combo he was wearing. A tight black tee, covered by a short-sleeved patterned button-up, that was unbuttoned and just tight enough to fuck you up. 

Plus, you were sure you saw a silver chain around his neck, which made you wonder what it would look like when if he was above you. 

“I-I…um. It’s the one in.” You bit the inside of your cheek and looked back at Robin. “The one in the 50th Street subway station.” 

Robin raised her eyebrow at you, but you just shook your head, deciding to ignore what just happened and barrel through. 

“A bar in a subway station?” 

You smiled over at Steve. “It’s not as gross as it sounds. I swear. It’s one of my favorite little spots that not a lot of people know about so there’s almost always seating and they have really good drinks there too. Besides, it’s in the station so if Robin wants to abandon us for some clubbing then the train is right there.” 

He nodded and put his stuff away, while you looked back over at Robin who was making a face at you. 

“What?” 

She huffed and went into the kitchen. 

When you just stared at her, confused, she aggressively made a small wave for you to follow her. You sighed and obliged, managing to walk directly into Steve’s chest because you weren’t paying attention.

“Shit! Sorry.” Your hands were against his chest while he had one of his hands on your waist. 

“N-no it’s fine.” He gave you a sheepish smile and quickly pulled his hand off your waist, but your skin was covered in goosebumps from how close you two were. 

You quickly hurried into the kitchen where Robin was impatient tapping her foot. “Seriously?” 

“W-what?” you smoothed down the front of your top, trying not to look up at her. 

“You know what.” 

“Birdy I–”

“No, save it. I don’t want to fight. I just want to know why you’re so against going clubbing tonight when that was the original plan.” 

If you were to tell Robin the truth, it would be because you weren’t sure you wouldn’t end the night with her best friend in your bed, kissing him like the world was ending, doing things that would have her kicking you out of the apartment and her life. 

Or maybe it’s because you want to spend the entire night just talking to Steve and listening to his voice and learning every single thing about him. After all, you were utterly entranced. 

“I just, I worked all day, and now that we’re actually going out…I don’t know if I have the energy to go all out.” This wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth. You had worked twelve hours today, and even before Steve had arrived, you had been dreading going out anyway. 

Robin’s face twisted a little bit. “It’s Steve's first time visiting me in the city and I wanted to show him around and show him all the places that I get to have fun.” 

“And for him to have a friend for when you inevitably win the bartender’s number tonight and go back with her to her place….” 

Robin’s cheeks turned bright red and she huffed again. “What–no–okay so maybe a bit but–”

“Look, babe, if you want to go to the Cubbyhole, I am more than supportive of that, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the mood for. You could always ask Steve to go with you. Or ask him what he wants. And if he’s okay with going out, we can all start at the bar, and then we can split up based on how we are all feeling. Steve literally just got off of a plane not even an hour ago.” 

The two of you agreed on a plan and walked back into the living room, where Steve had been shifting his bags around, and had his phone open. 

“Are we ready?” He stood up and smiled at the both of you. 

You both nodded and smiled at one another. One of you was excited to start the night. And the other was dreading what would happen when Robin inevitably left you alone with her hot best friend from home. 

_________________________________________________________________________

The three of you had managed to snag one of the tables up against the wall of the bar. Steve sat on one side, and you sat on the other, with Robin between you. It was the perfect setup for everyone since Robin was in between her two favorite people on the planet, and you got to look at Steve frequently because he was in your direct line of sight. 

It was most definitely the alcohol, or maybe it wasn’t, but Steve was getting more attractive by the minute. 

“I’ll go get us another round!” Robin excitedly grabbed all three glasses and ran back off to the bar to get more drinks. While you were so grateful that it was going so well, you couldn’t help but Steve was feeling the same way you were. 

Were you such a bad friend if you were actually excited for Robin to leave the two of you alone together? 

“So how did you meet Robin?” 

You blinked a few times before looking over at Steve. It was dimly lit, but you were seated next to the lamp on the wall, so he was bathed in a red glow. He must have been some sort of Greek god or something because no one can look that good in any lighting at all times. 

“She didn’t tell you already?” 

Steve shook his head, smiling slightly. 

You bit your cheek again and smiled. “Okay so. We met in our first year here, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her, oh my god, she like, never shut up. And while I love her for it now, it was causing some strained tensions between the two of us. So we were in the same class and got partnered for a project about Women’s history, specifically, authors who we deemed as important. And so I offered up Toni Morrison, who is probably my favorite author of all time, and Miss Indiana over there told me that her books were mediocre at best and wanted to do a project about Virginia Woolf. Then I called her gay, and she freaked out. Not in the aggressive way you’re thinking, but simply because I knew she was a queer woman, and it freaked her out that someone could tell. Like only a gay woman picks Virginia Woolf.” 

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and you could tell he was unsure about the path this story was taking, but you continued on. 

“She ended up letting me win the argument and we put together the most beautiful slideshow on god’s green earth. I mean, seriously to this day, I think about the transitions. A good PowerPoint can make or break a class—anyway. After that, Robin didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week.”

“Which is valid because I thought she was going to fucking hate crime me since my experience with people knowing I’m gay is either Steve or getting called a fag so…” Robin placed the drinks down in front of the respective people and sat down on her stool.

“Until…” You took a sip of your drink, cutting her off so you could finish the story.”We attended the same party that Friday night at Vickie’s house—I’m assuming you know all about Vickie and the mess that was—anyway. We were at Vickie's place and I went into the kitchen where some girls were making fun of Birdy and calling her some really awful shit because she was from Cowland, and so I called them all a bunch of cunts and then defended my homegirl because women support women, especially queer women. Then she kissed me, and—she’s actually not that bad of a kisser if I’m being so honest with you—and then we’ve been best friends since.” 

“I’m a phenomenal kisser, excuse you.” 

You smiled and nudged her with your elbow. “Sure thing Birdie. You’re nowhere near the bottom of my list though. I think Malcolm is—remember him?” 

Robin burst into laughter. Steve looked between the two of you, extremely confused by the entire situation—it was written all over his face. 

“He used to—” You couldn’t breathe because of how hard you were laughing. The sentence was virtually unfinishable. “He-He would…” You tried to take a few breaths. “He would, uh, spray cologne in his mouth instead of using a mint because he thought that’s what it was for—” 

You and Robin collapsed against one another, back into your fits of laughter. This had Steve cracking up, not just at the fact that this man was stupid, but because you and Robin’s laughs were contagious. 

“She didn’t figure it out until the fourth date.” Robin blurts out, causing you to wipe away the tears in your eyes and shove her slightly. 

“Shut UP. I only kissed him like twice before then and it was just pecks.”

You caught a glance of Steve out of the corner of your eye, and he was looking right at you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and the two of you stopped time for a moment. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up into a smile before he broke eye contact and looked back at Robin. 

“Wood in the mouth takes a whole new meaning—”

“Oh please. Don’t even start with that—”

“I’m just saying your choices in partners–”

“At least I didn’t date a married woman–” 

“WHAT.” 

Your eyes widened and you looked at Steve. “She didn’t tell you?”

Robin started hitting your arm. “No. I. did. Not!” 

You laughed and used one of your hands to shove hers away from you. “It was like a three-month relationship but she realized–” 

Robin shifted tactics and clamped a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t finish the sentence. After a moment she made a gagging sound and quickly pulled her hand away. “Did you just fucking lick my hand?” 

You winked at her and looked back at Steve. “She knew this woman’s wife too. A month into dating Robs found out. Rough semester.” 

“Oh my god. Robin. Who are you? What else have you done that I don’t know about?” 

“That’s it. If you’re going to tell him all of my wrongdoings, I’m out.” Robin downed her drink and stood up. She kissed your cheek and grabbed her purse off of the chair she was sitting on. 

“Remember to wear protection there kid.” 

She rolled her eyes at you and turned towards Steve. “I know I—”

“Robs, seriously, it’s okay. Go have fun. I have been traveling all day. And I don’t mind talking to Y/n—” 

“Unlike someone here, I’m not going to abandon you, Steve, don’t worry.” 

Steve’s hand rested over his heart. “You’re too kind.”

Robin scoffed but was smiling the whole time. “Don’t wait up. Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

And with that, she left you and Steve sitting in the bar. 

“So Steve, what else do you want to know about our girl??” 

The two of you spent the next three hours sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. Eventually, you and Steve were knee to knee, your head on his shoulder when you laughed too hard, trading stories about Robin. Nice didn’t even begin to describe the way his cologne smells when you would rest your head on his shoulder, giggling about something he said. Or the way his hand felt when it rested on your thigh as the two of you talked and talked and talked. 

Or when the two of you couldn’t stop giggling on the subway as you told him about the time Robin threw up on someone on the subway after you both had been drinking all day during last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day. 

Or when you stumbled slightly on the street, clinging to Steve as he clung to you. Enjoying the sound of his voice as he whispered things into your ear. 

Or as your back was up against the wall next to your door, you watched Steve’s hands use the key and unlock your door, except both of you forgot the fact that the bolt was also locked, meaning Steve slammed his face right into the door since it wasn’t moving. You clamped your hand over your mouth, dying of laughter, watching as Steve tried not to laugh at the door himself, instead smiling brightly at you, with his head against the door. 

Or when you both stood in the hallway of your apartment, neither one of you wanting the night to end, toeing the line. Eyes pretending they weren’t staring at lips. Hands fluttering around, almost grabbing one another. An inch away from more than just friends. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you awoke to an empty apartment and a text from Robin saying that the two of them decided to “hit the town”. 

You took your time. Decidedly talking yourself out of everything that had happened last night, especially when Robin had left you and Steve alone. It was dumb of you to even think about potentially betraying Robin’s trust like that. She didn’t bring Steve here to add him to your collection of failed lovers—and even if she did, you had a sinking feeling that Robin would choose Steve. 

It’s not to say that she didn’t love you, adore you, and wish nothing but the best for you, but you wish to never even put her in that position. 

So instead, you decided to take your mind off of everything by spending the afternoon in one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that was only a few minutes walk away from your place. 

You had managed to snag your favorite seat: a comfortable chair next to the window, and a plug. The plug was the best part since it meant you rarely had to get up and could just charge your devices without having to leave the spot you were in for potentially hours. And today was one of those days. The collection of mugs on the table grew as the hours of the day went on. By the time hour four had rolled around, there were about five mugs and two plates. 

That’s when the world did that thing again, when it decided to start ruining your day. First, your laptop was overheating more than usual, which was just plain irritating. Then, they had run out of the panini you were going to get for lunch. The final straw, however, was when one of your exes came waltzing up to the table. 

“Y/n, it’s been so long. How are ya?” 

You tried not to let a full resting bitch face take over, but to any observer, you were not happy to see the man in front of you. “Malcolm. Hey. I’m good.” 

“I’m doing great too. Mind if I sit? I just can’t believe I ran into you here.” 

Your breath hitched and that little voice in your head screamed panic!

“Um—actually, well, I come here all the time and you know that…Second, this seat's taken.”

“Well I’ve been here for about five minutes now and no one has taken that seat–”

“You’ve been watching me for five minutes? That’s fucking creepy Malcolm.” You tapped your finger against your keyboard nervously, eyes darting around, hoping someone would catch on to how uncomfortable this was for you.

“Please. That chair isn’t for anyone now is it?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

It’s still unsure if you audibly let out a sigh of relief seeing Steve approach the table, and take the seat next to you. 

Malcolm crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Look bud, I don’t know if you’re trying to play the hero card here by swooping in to try and save some damsel in distress you don’t know just to get her number, but you can right fuck off.”

Steve turned and looked at you. “Is he bugging you, Y/n? Because I’ll fucking kick his ass…”

You smiled and placed your hand on top of Steve’s thigh under the table, where Malcolm couldn’t see. You gave it a squeeze, hoping to god he understood how grateful you were at the moment for him. “Steve, this is Malcolm…you remember…from the other night.” 

“Shut the fuck up—this is cologne guy?” 

You nodded. Throughout the rollercoaster of being approached by an ex who was kind of threatening you, inside your favorite coffee shop, while you were alone, your heart rate shot up. Your heart was pounding. But when Steve put his hand on top of yours, you thought your heart rate would skyrocket. 

And then the weirdest thing happened, it didn’t. Steve started rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, and your heart rate went down. If this was on purpose, you might never know, but this simple gesture from someone you have known for mere hours had your breathing even out and your heart rate slide back down to within reason. 

Wasn’t it written somewhere that love makes your heart beat out of your chest? 

That love makes your soul bleed and your eyes weep. Love is supposed to make you crazy and worship the other person till the ends of the earth. It’s supposed to be overwhelming and make you feel like you could burst just from how much love you hold within yourself. It was a disease, unable to be cured—a madness. It’s all-consuming, unforgiving, a fire that cannot be tamed. Something you willingly killed yourself for. Ended it all because the idea of losing it was a fate worse than death

What you’re feeling couldn’t be love then. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t going batshit crazy over the idea of risking your life for him or losing your mind over the thought that he might not love you back. It was just a plain and simple joy: sitting next to him, his hands on yours. 

Your heartbeat had found its way back to normal, and your mind began to refocus on the confrontation in front of you. 

By the time your vision refocused after the thirty seconds you managed to blackout, Malcolm was glaring at Steve but starting to walk away. Whatever Steve said, worked, and you looked over at him, confused. " I think I must have blacked out or something because how the hell did you get him to..." 

Steve shrugged. "If you missed it, you missed it." 

"You're joking right?" 

Steve shrugged and smiled. His hand was still on yours, but you completely forgot about it—

"What are you working on?"

—Til now. 

You begrudgingly took your hand away from his and brought it up to the keyboard of your laptop, clicking it awake so he could see what you had been working on. The two of you spent the next hour sitting and talking about your courses, which were all a bunch of nonsense anyway since you were a second-semester senior with barely anything to do. 

"You're taking a metal-welding class for credit?"

You smirked and nodded. "When I tell you college is a joke, I truly mean it. I kind of love it though. Robin, however, dislikes being outlesbianed by someone who is not a lesbian. But I think I'm getting pretty good at it too."

_____________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, you and Steve found yourselves as the last two in the coffee shop, still talking about anything and everything you possibly could—wherever the conversation led you. 

When it was time to get kicked out, Steve helped pack up your things, and you both started the short walk back to the apartment where you ended up raiding the "delinquent Cabinet" as it had been affectionately named and properly labeled. 

By the time Robin got home from her shift, you and Steve had demolished a joint, several shooters, half a bottle of prosecco, and half a bottle of vodka. The conversation had never stopped, with the two of you always finding some way to stay touching to one another. You couldn't deny that the feeling of Steve calmed you down immensely, and the courage you were feeling from the past few hours helped with the want to have your hands on him. 

But when Robin walked into your apartment, you and Steve sobered up a tiny bit, deciding to leave some space between you both. You missed the way his hand felt on your calf, absentmindedly massaging it as the two of you talked about the difference between weed from Indiana and weed from a major city. 

“Hey you two…” 

“Birdy!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were fading away from the red of smoking, but your smile was lazy and your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way. 

“Ah, I see we broke into your stash?” 

You smirked slightly, and nodded. “Well if Mr. Harrington is going to smoke good weed, no offense to your friend back home, then he needs the best.” 

“Eddie sells good weed.” Steve defended his friend from home but it just made you giggle.

“Steve, that joint you gave me tasted like the equivalent of watered down vodka. It’s good, but it’s not the best. You can’t deny that mine was waaaaayyyyyyy better. Besides, it came from a pretty girl so it’s automatically better than Eddie’s.” 

Steve’s cheeks blushed slightly as he looked over at Robin. “How was work?” 

Robin’s eyes shifted between the two of you on the couch, but then settled on Steve. “How much did she have?”

“Don’t wanna know Birdy!” Your voice sang out across the room.

Steve shrugged. “Work?” 

She huffed and hung up her coat, admitting defeat on getting information out of a crossed-you. Robin kicked off her shoes and grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter–the one that was still half full–and joined the two of you on the couch. Robin managed to fit herself perfectly between you and Steve, causing you to frown slightly, but say nothing. 

“I almost punched an old lady but nothing new.” Robin took a long swing from the bottle of wine. 

“Was it that cunt Mrs. Defejeki?”

“Woah, language.” 

“What are you five?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s comment and picked up the remainder of the joint out of the ashtray, trading the weed for the rest of the bottle of wine. You and Robin shared basically everything. There were always a few exceptions, but still. If you started a bowl, Robin would finish it. If Robin did a shot, you did a shot. And while you were both built differently, the mix of shit the two of you ingested managed to get the both of you to about the same place. 

Robin just relit the joint in her mouth, nodding at you. “You’d think she’d go somewhere else to buy eggs if she always has something fucking stupid to say about our eggs. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re in a fucking city. If you want fresh eggs, get a friend with a coop on a roof or some weird shit.” She took a long drag, eyes rolling back and her eyelids closing. 

You nodded. “Or just…leave the fucking city.” 

This caused both you and Robin to burst into a fit of giggles, causing the latter to cough a little bit since she was still inhaling. 

You felt Steve’s eyes on you the whole time, but it only made you warm and fuzzy inside…or maybe that the combination of shit you put in your body. But either way, his eyes were gorgeous. You couldn’t help looking back at him, trying to locate every single color that reflected off of his eyes in the dim lighting. It didn’t help that his eyes were redder than yours, but he was still just as stunning to you. 

Robin leaned in front of you, blocking your view of the gorgeous specimen across from you on the couch, and placed the filter back in the ashtray. “Now what kiddos.” She placed a hand on your thigh and looked over at you, a smile on her face. 

“Did you wanna go out? Because I’m a little decapitated at the moment.” 

This caused Steve and Robin to burst at the seams. You furrowed your eyebrows as Steve and Robin kept laughing at you. Everytime they managed to calm down a bit, they would look at one another and burst out laughing again. 

“What!” You grumbled, shoving your foot against Robin’s thigh, trying to get her to pay attention to you again. “Whattttttt.” 

“It’s—” She giggled. “Not decapitated–HA–Incapt—” She couldn’t speak, she giggled so much. “Fucxk Steve.” She heaved out. “How the fuck do you say it?” 

Steve, who was not much better than Robin at the moment, was wiping literal tears from his eyes. 

“Incoorperat—fuck—wait.” He giggled again, and you were sure a flame just washed over your body, leaving you with goosebumps. “In—Cah—Pass–ih–tay–ted.” 

He slowly sounded out the word like he was in the middle of an eighth grade spelling bee. 

You slapped Robin's arm. “I literally said that!!” 

Robin and Steve burst into another fit of laughter. 

The group of you continued to giggle, and talk over one another. All of you filled to the brim with smiles and laughter and stories to tell. 

At some point you had changed into your pajamas, most likely when Robin had decided to call her night and go to bed. You, on the other hand, had changed into your pajamas, and gone back out into the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made during the night’s festivities. Steve, who was still awake, offered to help you, like the gentlemen you were learning he was. 

The two of you cleaned the kitchen, talking about your childhoods, comparing the worlds you grew up in–their likeness, their differences. 

And somehow 11 pm turned into Midnight. And then Midnight became 2 am. And then 2 am had become 6 in the morning. 

You had spent the entire night, sitting on your couch, talking to Steve Harrington. 

Since it was early enough in the morning, you invited Steve to come and sit on the fire escape with you, and watch the sunrise.  

It really sucked visually when there was no sun to watch rise since the sky was overcast and gray, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying Steve’s company. 

The two of you sat in silence with one another. You and Robin had always joked about how much you hated domesticity, the thought of just existing with someone else for the rest of your life was definitely a thought that scared you. Especially doing things as simple as laundry or the dishes, eating your meals together, or sitting on the fire escape and watching the sunrise together. But this moment, with Steve, made your heart ache. You never wanted this moment to end. It was a new drug you didn’t know you needed. And now that you had it, how were you supposed to give it up? 

“I really appreciated last night–tonight—the past several hours.” 

You looked away from the street, and over at Steve. “I-...I really enjoyed it too.” 

He smiled softly at you, and you have no idea what came over you, maybe it was bravery. But you reached over and brushed some of the hair in his face, behind his ear. It was intimate, maybe too intimate for people who were supposed to be friends by proxy of Robin Buckley and nothing else. 

You could feel Steve’s breath hitch and for a singular moment you regretted everything. You regretted staring at him in the bar. You regretted getting coffee with him. You regretted telling him about your thesis. You regretted sitting next to him during your movie night. You regretted the movie night. You regretted staying up and talking to him for hours on end, wasting away the night until he knew almost every single thing about you. You regretted suggesting coffee on your fire escape when you realized it was six in the morning. You regretted brushing his hair out of the way. 

But most importantly, you regretted not putting your coffee cup down when you did because the hot liquid spilled all over your lap when you quickly retracted your hand and stood up. 

“Shit–Fuck. Sorry.” You watched as the liquid covered your bare legs and as the mug clattered across the fire escape, and off the edge, shattering on the ground below. 

“Shit–are you okay?” 

You were shaking your head. The coffee was fucking hot, that was for sure. And that was at least your excuse for the tears that sprang to your eyes. Especially since you really liked that mug too. Steve put his mug down and crawled through your window. “Where are your towels??”

Your hands covered your face as you vaguely mumbled something adjacent to ‘the closet’. Steve had no idea which closet you meant, so he grabbed the dish rag hanging off of the stovetop and made his way back across the living room and through the window. 

“Are you okay?” He handed you the towel and you wiped off the burning hot liquid. Luckily, you barely had enough coffee to kill you, so your legs were just a bit red from the quick extreme change in temperature. 

Robin, who had heard the commotion ran out of her room in a tired stupor and looked around, panicking. “Is everything okay?”

Steve looked back into the apartment at Robin. “She–uh, she spilled her coffee and the mug went over the railing and she’s not burnt or anything but—yeah.” 

Robin furrowed her brows and made her way over to the window. “Sweetheart, why are you up this early? It’s not even seven am.” 

You shook your head, and that’s when the thunder started. You aggressively sighed and made your way back through the window into the apartment, following Steve who had done just that moments prior. 

“I'm going to go take a shower.” You quickly made your way to your room before Steve or Robin could say anything. 

You grabbed your lotion and a hair towel from your closet, alongside your robe, and headed into the bathroom. Once you closed and locked the door, you looked down at your legs. The red was starting to fade away, thank God, and there was no sign of bubbling so at least your embarrassing blunder wasn’t going to give you physical injury—only emotional. 

Steve and Robin’s hushed whispers carried down the hall but you had no idea what the two of them were talking about, only that it was probably about you. You decided to ignore it and splash some water on your face. 

God, how fucking embarrassing was that? You weren’t one to get flustered by men, or women, or really anyone, but this? What the fuck was that? Spilling hot coffee all over your lap? 

And Steve had sprung right into action, could he be any more perfect? My god you were fucked. 

It was at that moment that you realized you left your phone on the kitchen counter. It’s not that you couldn’t shower without music, but you preferred not to. So now you have to contemplate the dilemma of going out and facing your best friend and her best friend who were definitely talking about you, while you were only in a robe, or do you just suffer in silence. 

When you heard the front door slam shut, you had your answer. Assuming that both of them had decided to go out to breakfast and give you some space, you shoved your clothes into the hamper in the closet in the bathroom and opened the door. 

And there was Steve, with his hand up, as if he was about to knock. “Hey—sorry.” 

“Oh–” You took a step back, and only looked at his face for a moment, a little too embarrassed to really make eye contact with him. 

“Sorry, it’s just—I–uh, Robin went to get us some breakfast from this place…She wanted me to let you know, and you had been in there a while without the water running so I–uh–wanted to make sure everything was okay.” 

You looked up at him and almost swooned at the sincerity in his eyes. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he want to talk to you? You had only been in the bathroom for like, five minutes without turning on the water? 

“I’m fine Steve, thank you for asking. I wanted to…um…apologize for earlier when I–” 

Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, seriously–”

“No I so do, I literally made a move on my best friend’s best friend, and almost completely unwarranted too–”

You were cut off by the feeling of Steve’s lips on yours. 

It was like heaven was on earth, and every single one of those thoughts came back to your mind. Steve’s lips—having coffee in the mornings with him. His eyes—getting dressed up and going out to lunch and running errands with him. His smile—making dinner with him and doing the dishes afterward. His hair—the sight of his head between your legs—

He pulled away the second he realized you weren’t kissing back and started to follow down the same path of panic you had just been on. “Shit—I read that so wrong–fuck, I didn’t—”

You pulled yourself out of whatever stupor you were in, grabbed Steve Harrington by the back of his neck and shoved his face into yours—lips crashing against the others. His hand flew around your waist and pulled you up against his body. 

He tasted like mint chapstick, something you weren’t sure you were expecting, but it just added to how attractive he was. 

Steve slowly walked you backwards, until the back of your thighs hit the counter. Steve all but picked you up while you hopped backward onto the counter. He was once again your knight in shining armor when he held you in place, saving you from toppling over into the sink. You laughed against his lips, causing him to smile and pull away for a moment. “You’re clumsy aren’t you.” 

You watched as his chest rose and fell, just as quickly as yours. You pulled him into another first kiss, wanting to feel his lips again. “You have no idea.” You mumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Steve moved his lips away, starting to kiss up your jaw, preening at every little gasp and inhale and sound you made. He squeezed your hips and moved your waist slightly, giving you the hint you needed to start grinding on him. His teeth grazed your ear and you let out a moan, rolling your body up against his. 

Steve let out a breath against your neck making your skin break out into goosebumps. Your right hand was clutching the kitchen countertop, while your left hand had made its way up his chest and on the back of his neck. Your fingers wove into his hair, yanking on it slightly as he continued to kiss lightly down your neck. 

Something you never thought would happen today was hearing Steve Harrington moan. It was one of the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your life, causing you to pull on his hair again just so you could hear it again. 

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He groaned against your neck and pulled you directly against him.

“So do something about it.” You sighed out gripping the counter tightly. 

You felt him smirk against your skin and pull away from you, much to your dismay, which you made known by your groan. "Steve please."

"Say it again Princess." 

Your eyes met his as you bit your lips. "Please." 

A wave of something came over your entire body at the look Steve gave you when spoke. 

"Anything you want, pretty girl." 

Something else you had never thought would happen today was the sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you on your bathroom floor between your legs. 

You had basically prepped for this moment since you were completely naked under the robe you were wearing, but the thought of a shower was now far from your mind. Steve kissed your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath, and grip the countertop impossibly harder.

He slowly kissed up your thigh, moving your legs so that they were over his shoulders. 

You moaned out his name, causing him to falter for only a moment. He groaned against your skin and squeezed your thigh with his hand. “Fuck me gorgeous.” 

You licked your lips, unable to lift your head from the way it was resting on the mirror. 

"Sweetheart, eyes on me." 

You moaned and inhaled, looking down at the man between your legs. His eyes were already on yours, as he slid both of his hands up, pulling you directly against his mouth. 

The feeling of his lips against your cunt made you let out the most strangled sound, trying your best to contain anything above a whisper. 

You could have cummed at the way he was looking at you, but just rocked your hips against his mouth, hoping for a bit more of the feeling of him. 

“Come on pretty girl.” He licked up your cunt, causing your body to involuntarily jolt a little bit. “I know you can make prettier sounds than that. I wanna hear them. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you like this–”

There was a knock on the front door, slightly frantic, but not panicked. 

“Hey, guys? I accidentally locked the door, can you come get it for me?��� 

You let out a little gasp, your breath stuttering as you teetered on the edge of the counter and on an orgasm. Steve pulled away and kissed your thigh quickly. You leaned your head back against the mirror and just gripped the counter, coming to terms with the fact that your best friend just cock blocked you, and that Steve was no longer between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” He cooed, standing up and kissing you quickly. “I know I know.” 

You whined when he pulled away, the taste of you on his lips was not one that either of you would forget for at least the rest of the day, probably your lives. 

“I’m gonna turn on the shower and then go let her in—.” 

Your phone pinged with a text from Robin as Steve turned the shower on for you. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get any sort of release from the pent-up orgasm just sitting in your gut. 

“You wouldn’t do anything without me, pretty girl, would you.” 

“I could hurt you, Steve Harrington.” You muttered but nodded to his statement. 

He smirked slightly but then closed the door behind him and you heard him make his way to the door, to let Robin into the apartment. 

It wasn’t even 8 am and you hadn’t slept and the day was getting longer by the minute. 

_____________________________________________________________________

After that morning, you had somehow managed to miss Steve at every turn, causing your frustration to build throughout the day, especially since he was leaving the next night. 

And then, because of your classes, you managed to not see Steve at all for the rest of the trip, except for the few minutes where the two of you crossed paths, with Robin. 

The last time you were face to face with Steve Harrington alone for more than a few seconds was when he was tongue-fucking you on your bathroom counter. And it was pissing you off. 

But one day, a few days after Steve had flown home, your phone pinged. And when you saw that one Steve Harrington had started following you on instagram, you followed him back embarrassingly fast. 

The only thing that was more embarrassing then that was how quickly he dmed you after.

And suddenly you were attached to your phone: Constantly checking it to see if he texted you, smiling at your screen whenever his photo popped up, giggling at his cheesy jokes out loud. Your demeanor had completely changed. Instead of the consistent snark and attitude, you had a more pleasant and approachable demeanor. You would wake up early in the mornings and make breakfast for Robin before she was even out of bed. At the clubs, you would dance and drink with people, but never danced with them for more than one song, and didn’t take anyone home either. Sometimes you would even opt to sit there on your phone, texting Steve. 

But after three weeks of being on the outside of whoever was making you feel this way, Robin had enough. She was going to find out who this mystery person was, and how the hell they managed to make you act like this. 

“Who the fuck have you been texting?” 

You looked up from your phone, immediately clicking it off. “What are you talking about?” 

Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop for the past two weeks, smiling at it like some sort of lovestruck idiot, so who is it? Who are you smitten for?” 

“Pshh–I’m not—I think you’re losing it, or something.” 

“Is it a girl?” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. 

“So what’s his name then huh?” 

You looked away from her, staying silent. 

“You can’t pretend like you haven’t been smiling at your phone, or that you haven’t been drifting off into space…You’re literally doing it right now?” 

You blinked the images of Steve out of your mind and shook your head.

“You’re delusional—” Just as you looked over at Robin, she was on top of you, having launched herself across the room in an attempt to get your phone from your hands. Unfortunately, Robin launched herself at you with such force that the two of you toppled over and she managed to grab your phone, snatching it from your hands. 

Right before she could slither out of your grasp, you grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards your body. “Robin give me my PHONE.” 

This was an unfortunate situation for many reasons. The first was that Robin escaped your grasp and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The second was that your phone unlocked with her face so it was relatively easy for her to snoop. The third reason happened so painfully slowly. You heard her laughter die off and silence take over. She had discovered who you had been texting.

And you just stood across from the bathroom door, leaning against the wall and bouncing your leg, eyes wide, heart beating loudly, as you could feel Robin looking through everything you had been saying to Steve. 

She had been your best friend for years so she knew how you texted when you flirted, and to make matters worse, she knew how her other best friend texted when he was flirting too. 

Suddenly the door opened quickly and Robin handed you your phone back. 

“Birdy—”

She shook her head. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Her voice shook a little bit and all you could do was stand there, knowing better than to try and prod her. “I’m not—I just need to think and then we can talk about it.” She muttered. 

You watched as Robin grabbed her coat, her purse, and her airpods before you watched the door slam shut. 

The next thirty-seven minutes were filled with silence and a lot of panic cleaning. Suddenly your bed had new sheets in it, you had taken out the trash, the dishes had been done, you swept the kitchen—and even lit that midnight citrus candle Robin loved so much. 

Ever since becoming friends, you and Robin simply didn’t fight. The two of you got along so well that it felt like you were made for each other sometimes. But right now? Now was not one of those times. Instead, you paced around in literal circles because the guilt of non stop texting Steve was eating you alive. 

But it’s not like you did anything wrong either. The two of you had only been texting and nothing more. Sure it was almost every second you possibly could and he did take up all available space in your head, especially since the two of you never got around to round two of your bathroom scene—let alone finishing the first session.  

You were not dating Steve Harrington. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t do anything else without Robin’s knowledge and consent of the issue in the first place. 

You looked up when the door closed, making eye contact with your girl. In her hand, she had a brown paper bag and a drink carrier carrying her favorite drink in it, alongside yours. You smiled at her, hesitantly because she really could have thrown the drink in your face and you would have accepted it. But instead, Robin gestured towards the balcony and you nodded, grabbing some napkins and opening the window so she could step out onto the fire escape. 

Once you both were through, you each sat in your respective spots, delegating the drinks and the pastries she had picked up on her way home from whatever path she had taken herself on. The two of you did this in complete silence. At first, it was nerve-wracking, but the peaceful knowledge of the fact that you both could move in sync with one another felt good. 

You both sat and watched the people pass by, taking sips of your drinks, and taking small bites out of each of the pastries. You weren’t going to speak first—that much was obvious. 

After a moment, Robin sighed and looked at you. “You like him a lot.” 

Not a question, just a fact. 

You nodded. “Yeah…” 

“Hmm.” Robin’s mouth twisted, but not into anything malicious. She looked down at her hands. “I wish you told me you liked him sooner, because he clearly—uh, he clearly likes you back.” 

Your cheeks tinged with pink, and your hands rubbed at your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that there was a blush on your face. 

“I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless I talked to you first Birdy—” 

“I know.” 

“And neither was he—”

“I know.”

“And honestly Robin, I really do like him, and I was pretty sure he liked me back. I mean we spent an entire night out here talking and talking—I’ve never talked to anyone this much in my entire life. And he thinks I’m funny and actually answers my texts and I—I just….”

“I know.” 

You looked over at her. Your mind swimming with thoughts of Steve and Robin. It was bringing you to the verge of tears since no matter how big a crush on someone was, you would never let it come between you and Robin’s friendship. 

Robin took your hand in hers and shook her head. “It’s okay. I promise.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah–I mean. I had to think about it and at first, I was really mad, like pissed, because I thought you two had been seeing each other behind my back—which obviously I know you weren’t—and then I realized how fucking smitten you’ve been since he was here. I mean your attention was basically in Indiana.” The two giggled a little bit, a tear breaking free from your eye as Robin continued. “But you weren’t. You were still my best friend and you didn’t even do anything because you cared about me? And I’m not exactly thrilled that Dingus has won your heart over me, but I also wouldn’t not recommend him, if that makes any sense.” 

You nodded. “Birdy I–” 

She squeezed your hand. “Really. It’s okay. I’m honestly just mad about the fact that he’s answering your texts. He’s the fucking worst at texting everyone else so it must mean he really likes you. I’m extremely jealous…” 

You laughed again, just enjoying Robin’s goodness. 

“Besides, I feel like it gives me the upper hand for a question I’ve been wanting to ask. Wanna go to Cowland with me in a few weeks? The kids have been dying to meet you and they’re graduating from high school and I was going to go back anyways but since I know you probably want to see Steve again–”

“Robin. I’ve been bugging you to take me to Cowland for literal years. I’d be so down to go, not just because Harrington is there.”

The two of you shared a hug, arms wrapped lovingly around the other, squeezing almost all the air out of each other’s lungs. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Finally, the semester had ended, and it was time for Robin to go home and visit her kids. You and Robin had both walked across the stage, receiving your diplomas in your respective fields, both of you with Magna Cum Laude cords around your necks, plus a few others. Steve couldn’t make it up to the city that weekend, which was a little upsetting to Robin at first, but all was understood. 

The two of you had signed a lease for another two years, deciding that you both wanted to stay in New York City, and you both wanted to live with each other. This was really exciting for both of you, but was causing a serious amount of guilt for your best friend. 

"Robin, it's not bad news. I know I'm biased, but it's incredible news that you have a job, and you have a place to live. and Yes—-don't cut me off—Yes, it's sad because it's officially going to be your permanent home, but that's, like, that's what growing up is." 

"When the fuck did you get so...so....wise?" 

You shrugged and looked over at her with a smile. 

Since Robin didn't have a license, the two of you patiently waited at the airport for Steve to arrive. He had no idea you were suddenly in the great state of Indiana. You had never been before, and Robin had told you not to get your hopes up—but part of you was excited to see where your best friend grew up, where she was before this chapter of your lives. 

You hadn't told Steve that you were in state, at the request of Robin, since she had some sort of plan in her mind. You knew that the first step was gauging Steve's reaction to seeing you at the airport with her, which made no sense to you, but you kept your mouth shut since this was her home turf. 

A maroon BMW pulled up in front of the two of you, and you could say you were surprised by Steve's car of choice, but you would be lying. It's not that he read as a rich person, but Robin had one time told you his parents were loaded and you had laughed her off. Seeing how nice this car was, you wish you could take it back. 

Steve pulled up to the two of you and rolled the window down. "Do you actually need help with the luggage or can you—" The second he saw you, he lost track of his sentence. Eyes roaming over your face, your body. Why did it feel good to be looked at like that? 

"You're here." 

You gave him a nervous smile. "That is true, yes." 

The corner of Steve's mouth tugged up into a smile, and the two of you continued to look at one another, enjoying the fact that you were finally in each other's company again for the first time in over a month. 

Robin snapped a finger in front of your face. "Good grief you two, let's get moving. I'm not standing out here in the sun all day because we stunned Steve into silence with your presence—-and to be fair, if you surprised me, I would be shocked into silence too by how excited I would be— pop the trunk Steven— to see you, but this is not the time. I want to get on the road as quickly as possible." 

Steve snapped out of the trance between you both and popped the trunk of the car. He quickly got out of the car and moved around it to grab the luggage from you, and Robin, to put into the trunk. 

"You suck ass, Harrington. You'll get out of the car for her, but was gonna make me put my bags in the back myself." 

Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, almost like an exasperated mother. "Robs, seriously. You know I would have gotten out to help you." 

"I'm sure you would have Steve. I'm sure." 

"You're not even in Hawkins and you're being a pain in my ass." 

The two of them continued to squabble, making their way into the front of the car while you slid into the back. It was the sort of friendly banter that you could get used to. 

And you did because, after about ten minutes into the drive, you had completely zoned out and watched as the roads turned into fields. You had never seen such flat land before, it was... bizarre. The world felt like it was supposed to have things reaching towards the sky—trees, skyscrapers, mountains—but not here. It was tall grass and nothingness. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just different—something almost serene about the vastness of it all. 

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be grounded, but you couldn't speak to that since you had literally run away to the city to live in the sky and aim for the stars. 

Your introspection about the human condition of reaching for the stars was interrupted by Robin. 

"Right Y/n?" 

"Mhm." 

"Were you even listening?" Steve huffed. 

"To be so honest, I have no fucking idea what you said birdy. Not one clue." 

Robin groaned and turned around in her seat to look at you. "How long have you been tuned out; I don't know how much of this I can restate." 

"Basically since we left the city." 

Robin groaned again: way louder, and with a lot more dramatics. "I'm not explaining this again. You agreed with me regardless, so it's the truth." 

Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled at you. It was one of those smiles that could make a girl trip over her own feet, and it was directed at you, making your insides melt. Steve had clearly been out in the sun since he was a little tanner than you last remember, and he had a small swatch of freckles across his nose and cheeks. It was adorable. 

"Oh! Oh! We're almost there!" Robin exclaimed, and you broke your eyes away from Steve's to look at the old sign she was pointing to. 

Hawkins - 5 Miles

"Five minutes til you enter a literal hellscape." 

Robin swatted Steve's arm and smiled back at you. "It's not that bad I swear. Like sure, it's a bit of a Cowland, that much is true, but—-"

"You don't have to justify Cowland to me Birdy. The only thing you have to justify is the fact that we have been on the road for almost an hour and I have yet to see a single cow. Now that's just ridiculous." 

Robin smiled at you and turned back around, facing the front again. She reached over and snatched Steve's phone (something you realized was a habit with everyone) and opened his Spotify, scrolling until she found the right song. She cranked the volume up and rolled the windows down, screaming along the words to Everybody Wants to Rule the World. How fitting. 

You rolled your window down and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your face. While you had never been to Indiana before, or most of the middle of the country, something you definitely loved was how fresh the air was. No buildings or mass amounts of cars were polluting the air—just the grass and trees. 

Steve looked in the rearview mirror at you again, and you looked up, feeling his gaze on you. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. The pure joy that you were here. And you knew it was going to be a good two weeks here in Hawkins. 

That was until it rained for three days straight, and you and Robin were basically stuck inside her room with nowhere to go. Robin's parents were kind enough to lend you their cars when they got home from work since Robin didn't drive and you didn't have a car, but that meant that if either of you wanted to go anywhere during the day, you had to bike or walk and neither of which, in the rain, was really ideal. You could always wait for Steve to get off of work, but by then you'd have Robin's parent's car so you were stuck.

But on the fourth day, you woke up to the smell of petrichor and a shining sun peering through the curtains. This was perfect because of you and Robin's strict itinerary. 

Friday Day: Exploring the town/Lovers Lake

Friday Evening: Graduation 

Friday Night: Grad Party

When Robin told you that you were spending your day at Lover's Lake, you thought she was actually going to murder you since there were no real places named that, but when the two of you were picked up by Steve to head to the lake, you found out it was, in fact, a real place. 

It was actually kind of pretty, considering it was surrounded by woods. You were calmed by the sense of height within the area from the trees, but the actual visage of the lake was beautiful, and the sun reflecting off of that made it feel a bit more magical. 

You were decked out in that same hoodie from the other day, as well as your favorite pair of shorts, both of which were covering up your favorite bathing suit. Swimming was enjoyable, but you weren't sure if today was a swimming type of day or a lounging in the sun type of day. 

Either way, it was a 'try-not-to-stare-at-Steve-Harrington' day. 

Your chauffeur started to help two other guys around his age, set up a picnic blanket, secure an umbrella into the sand, and set up the speaker for the music.

Nancy, the girl you had yet to be properly introduced to, got out of the car she drove here in with one of the boys, and walked over to you, a bright smile on her face. 

"Hi! I'm Nancy, it's so nice to finally meet you. Robin hasn't shut up about you since you first met at college." 

Your face lit up and you tried to cover up the smirk on your face. "Since we first met? Damn Birdy, I had no idea..." 

"Thanks, Nance, now she's not going to shut up about it for fucking weeks," Robin mumbled, slinking off to go grab more things from Steve's car. 

"It's really nice to meet you, Nancy. I've heard a lot about you too." You smiled and shook her hand—it felt a little serious for a meeting, but you got the sense that was just how Nancy was. 

"Did Robin add your songs to the playlist? It gets really varied at times, but it's the only way we figured out to let each person be happy with the music if we all put fifteen songs on there, and then hit shuffle." 

You shook your head, really confused about what this girl was saying to you. Nancy handed you her phone and scrolled through the playlist, showing you everyone's music picks, and explaining it in further detail. When you finally understood, you paused. "So can I add anything? No questions asked?" 

Nancy nodded, smirking at the slight twinkle in your eyes. You added yourself to the playlist and handed her back her phone. "I'll add them before we start the playlist so that way they're in there fair and square." 

Nancy nodded and then looked over at the boys. "So! You've met Robin, and obviously Steve, has Robin introduced you to anyone else yet?" 

You shook your head 'No' and Nancy took your hand and dragged you off into the sand towards the gaggle of boys all staring at the umbrella since it was not as sturdy as they thought it would be. 

After a single gust of wind, it had knocked right over. 

"Nance there's no need to man-handle y/n—-" 

Nancy rolled her eyes and stopped short of the group. "Go get some rocks Steve, and pile it around the base, I'm pretty sure we went over this last summer..." 

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure it ended up not working in the long run there Wheeler." The long-haired guy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. 

"Do they always give you this much lip even when they're wrong?" You half-whispered to Nancy, causing the two of you to try and cover your laughs. 

"Y/n! You're supposed to be on my side here." Steve threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his hips. 

"You look like a mom." You blurted out, causing yourself and the rest of the young adults to laugh together. Except for Steve, who was fake fuming, but really just at a loss. He really didn't think he looked like a mother but if a girl he had hung out with for no more than three days thinks so, then he might as well be fucked. 

"Where did Robin find you?" 

You looked across the group to the guy with longer hair, a tight tee with some sort of skull on it, and black bathing suit shorts. He was attractive, that was sure enough, but he definitely wasn't the pretty boy Harrington wanted to take a bite out of. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Take a wild guess." 

"Touché. So. More importantly, what are you adding to the playlist." 

You shrugged. "You'll find out. I'm guessing you're Eddie." 

"In the flesh." He did one of those bows that was reminiscent of a movie from your childhood—it was really fucking nerdy.

"And so you must be Jonathan." Your tone shifted, slightly nicer, less of a bite to it. It stumped Steve, watching you clearly figure out and adapt yourself to the person you were talking to, but never being one to actually hurt the other person, just tease lightly. 

Jonathan nodded, his arm was already around Nancy's shoulder, and he gave you a small 'Hey". 

Robin shouted over at the group for help with all three of the coolers, and you watched Jonathan and Nancy go over to help her with them. You helped Eddie and Steve set the umbrella again (this time properly), and moved on to setting up your towel and bag. 

Steve placed his towel on the other side of yours and sat down on the ground next to you. Eddie had moved on to setting up his area around the picnic table, reorganizing coolers, and setting up the various snacks for the group throughout the day. 

"So..." 

You turned and looked over at Steve, who was looking right at you, a brightness in his eyes that the sun couldn't match. It looked right, like it was supposed to always be there. 

"So..." You responded, smiling back at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" 

You sighed and leaned back on your hands, looking out over the water. "Robin thought that it would be a good...test of character, I think is how she put it. She, uh, got a hold of my phone a few weeks ago, and made the connection about why I had been so..." 

Steve bit his lip. "So...?" 

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you if you're going to be a jerk about it." 

Steve held his hands up, "I swear I won't be." 

"Fine." You huffed and looked down at your legs. "Why I was so...attached to my phone, and blushing all the time, and why I kept smiling when I would get a text....and yeah." 

You saw as Steve's face flashed with a wave of emotions, all of which managed to stay just below the surface. One of these days you would have to just stare at his face all day so you could learn very little mannerism, every little quick about this man. 

"You, uh, smile every time I text you?" 

You pursed your lips but then nodded. "Yeah. I—uh, I do." 

"Hm." Steve nodded and looked out over the lake. 

"Yeah." 

You looked over at Steve just as he looked at you, causing both of you to smile again. Just as Steve was about to say something, you heard Robin call across the beach. 

"Babe!" 

You huffed slightly, the smile on your face becoming a little fake before turning and looking over at your best friend. "Yeah, babe?" 

"Add your fucking music so I can hit shuffle." 

"Aye Aye Captain." You gave her a mock salute and pulled out your phone, turning back towards Steve. 

"Am I seriously going to get judged for what I put on?" 

"We actually have a no complaints rule, since a certain someone would always bitch when his music never came on." 

Your face lit up with amusement and nodded, before looking down at the playlist and scrolling through the songs already on there to see what had been added already. 

"You really like the seventies and eighties, huh Harrington." 

He shrugged and smiled. "I think I could have easily been an eighties heartthrob." 

You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm slightly. "Yeah okay, sure." 

Steve feigned a gasp. "You don't think I could've been!" 

This caused you to laugh but continued to sort through your music, choosing the fifteen songs you felt like you wanted to hear most today. 

"I'm sure you could have Steve. I'm sure." 

Steve clutched his heart and fell backward. "You're killin' me here princess!" 

You hit his thigh, not hard, but just enough to get your point across. "Don't call me that, unless you're going to commit to finishing the job because you owe me...big time." Your eyebrows were raised expectantly, but your voice was low so only Steve could hear you. 

Steve smirked, and his eyes went a little dark for a moment before the sun returned them to their caramel color. "Trust me, now that you're here..." 

"Good." You smiled and laid back on your towel, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face and thighs, and enjoying the company of the smirking man next to you. 

And you both stayed like this for the next hour, only getting up when food was offered. Steve eventually left your side, deciding to go for a swim. You opted out but enjoyed the view.

“He’s something else…”

You turned and looked at Robin sitting next to you, nodding in agreement. 

“He really likes you.” 

Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Teasing her. 

Robin shook her head and smiled. “I don’t have to. I mean, I've known him for years, but he’s never been like this about any girl, not even Nance.”

“Steve and Nancy dated?” 

“They were the couple in high school. Did not end well, but the two of them are still good friends, surprisingly.”

You mouthed a soft ‘oh’. 

“But…I’m being dead serious Y/n, he’s never been so…chill, peaceful…I don't know—”

“Sure.” Nancy chimed in and sat down on the opposite side of you. 

“What?” 

“He’s just so…sure about you. Like yeah, he can be a cocky asswipe, but he’s always freaking out about whether or not something is right, or going the way he thinks it’s supposed to.” 

Robin nodded along while you tried to breathe evenly again. Not that you didn’t get those feelings from Steve, you absolutely did, but hearing about it from both Nancy and Robin at the same time was a bit overwhelming. 

“He just, He’s so calm.” 

“We’re not even dating.” You sighed, crossing your arms and looking out at the man in the water. He caught you looking at him, and winked at you, sending you a smile along with it. You waved slightly at him, returning the smile. 

“He hasn’t asked you yet?” 

“Nancy, it’s the twenty-first century, girls can ask guys out too.” 

You rolled your eyes at Robin and shook your head. “No, not yet. We’ve only actually spent about fifteen hours in each other’s presence, with one of those being the hour drive down from Indianapolis…”

“Holy shit, and he’s that….wow.” Nancy leaned back on her hands, looking out over the water. 

Plus we didn’t want to start dating behind Robin’s backs and have her hate us forever and ever. But you kept that thought to yourself. 

The man in question decided that he had enough of the staring from the group of girls sitting on the beach, and waded his way over to you three, before walking out of the lake. “Can I help you three?” 

Steve was literally dripping hotness off of his body. The sun backlit him, creating this holy look about him, and the water droplets slowly made their way down his chest and abs and down towards—You snapped your eyes back up to his face, where he was watching every single movement of your eyes, smirking slightly. It was fairly pornographic and would have you dragging Steve over to the car and fucking him senseless, but you’d settle for eye-fucking him instead since Robin was directly next to you, and so was Nancy. 

“Just questioning Robin’s girl here.” 

Steve’s eyes stayed trained on you and he raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, then why were all of you staring out at me huh?” 

“Well, Harrington if you must know...”

“–I must Robin.” 

“I’m just learning things. That’s all.” You tilted your head slightly, almost teasing him slightly. Your gaze was already enough to make anyone blush, but Steve Harrington wasn’t anybody. However, he immediately lost the shine of confidence at the thought of you, Robin, and Nancy talking about him. 

“Learning what…exactly?” 

You, alongside the other two girls, just shrugged, causing Steve to eye all three of you up and down, and head over to where Eddie was cooking up some lunch for you. 

Sighing, you fully laid all the way down again and closed your eyes. “I think I’m just going to lie in the sun for a while and internalize every little thing the two of you just said to me.” 

You didn’t hear as the two girls got up and left you alone. You also didn’t hear as someone else took his place next to you. You just drifted off into a light sleep, enjoying the warmth the sun was providing you so that you could just breathe for a moment and figure out everything that was going on inside your head. 

First off, you liked Steve. And Steve liked you back. This was obvious before the girls told you, but the confirmation was a plus. 

Second, Steve hadn’t mentioned ever going on another date, ever. You hadn’t even gone on a first one if you remembered correctly. 

Third, You were unsure if Steve Harrington wanted to actually date you, or even kiss you. Sure, you rode his face like you were in one of those bull games in the rodeo bar, and he clearly seemed to enjoy it. But the only time he actually mentioned getting physical with you was either while it was happening, or if you brought it up first. Was he actually interested in you, or just being a gentleman? 

This shit was fucking hard, that’s for sure. 

“Hey.” 

You hummed, letting Steve know you heard him. 

“They’re going on a walk through the woods, wanna join?” 

You shook your head, not wanting to get up from your spot on the towel. 

Steve was silent for the next few moments. You assumed that he was staying on the beach with you since the others grabbed a couple things and started walking off into the woods. 

“You’re not going?” 

“Nope.” 

You opened one eye and looked over at the boy next to you. He was looking right at you–a small smile flashed across his face. He was nervous. “I-I hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah…Steve, it is.” 

“Good.” He hummed and smiled at you. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Hawkins decided on having a Friday Night Graduation, and while at first, you were hesitant, you realized you’d rather have a graduation at sunset than have to wake up at the crack of dawn to watch kids you didn’t know walk across a stage. 

You had gotten slightly dressed up, wearing a summery dress that didn’t leave you overheating, but was one step above casual. Sitting in between Steve and Robin was definitely something to behold considering they wouldn’t stop whispering to you, pointing out their kids. 

The Salutatorian was one of theirs—a Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, as you found out. His speech was beautiful and even made you tear up a bit, which meant nothing since the group you were sitting with was all crying alongside you. 

Eventually, the graduates walked, and you watched your friends stand up and down, screaming and cheering for their kids each time one of them walked across the stage. You had learned all of them using a Quizlet, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up any names. So far, you had learned that Dustin Henderson was Steve’s favorite, with Max Mayfield being a close second. (from what you had heard, Max could easily be your favorite). Max was dating Lucas Sinclair, who was on the basketball team, which you found out Steve had been coaching for the past few years. Then, there was Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, and Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s brother. Mike was dating Elle Hopper, who was best friends with Max. But Elle’s Dad was getting married to Will’s Mom…

You repeated this little thing over and over in your head, trying to wrap your brain around what could have possibly connected all of these older teens to Robin since she and Steve didn’t even talk until high school, and Steve only dated Nancy in junior year and—Honestly, it was weird, considering you really couldn’t imagine twenty-three-year-olds hanging out with eighteen-year-olds, but you lost all your doubt when you saw how connected this group was—whatever had happened between them, bonded them for life. 

Eventually, the caps got tossed, the principal said a few words, and they were all dismissed. The small group of you waited off to the side, knowing that they were going to all talk to their parents first. Steve stood next to you, and placed a hand on your waist, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. “Tired yet?” 

You laughed softly and shook your head, keeping your head straight ahead because if you turned, you were going to kiss him right on his stupid lips. 

“No, but I am ready to start drinking again.” 

This caused Steve to laugh slightly and straighten up, but his hand stayed on the small of your back until a gaggle of kids in green and white grad robes came running at you all. 

You took a step back watching as hugs and congratulations were thrown out at all of them. It was heartwarming, truly, to see such a family in action. You swore you saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve and Dustin having a lightsaber battle at one point. 

Robin took your hand and dragged you over to the curly-headed one. “Y/n, this is Dustin, Dustin, Y/n. The Roommate.” 

All hell broke loose when Robin announced your title. The children’s heads all snapped towards you and they started to crowd you, which wouldn’t have been as intimidating if you had met them all before, or if they were shorter than you, which a bunch of them were not. 

“You’re her Roommate?” “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh my god, we finally got to meet you?” “You’re a lot prettier in person.” “Where did you get that dress, it’s stunning.” “You came to watch us walk across a stage? That’s definitely a choice…” “I wouldn’t go to Indiana if I lived in a cool place like the city ” “It’s literally so nice to finally meet you.” “You’re like really pretty.” “How did you meet Robin?” 

“Alright Alright! Let the woman breathe my god.” Steve yelled out to the group, as he took notice of your wide eyes. It’s not that you were nervous about meeting them, it’s just that the wave of questions was a tad bit overwhelming and unexpected. 

“Alright.” Steve sighed and looked at you. “Ready?” 

You furrowed your brows. “For?” 

“Well.” Steve started to point to each child as if he was giving you a speedrun introduction. “That’s Dustin, That’s Max and Lucas. Will, Mike, And that’s Elle. Am I missing anyone?” 

The group managed to give Steve a full unison moment of attitude. 

“You still look like such a mom Harrington.” You laughed a bit when he put his hands back on his hips. 

“God I knew I’d like you,” Max spoke up, causing you to smile at her. 

“It’s really nice to meet all of you!” 

They all responded back, at the same time, and then scattered. Whatever initial excitement was there had finally dispersed, meaning you weren’t the center of attention, and you could breathe again. Well, except for one kid, that came up to you. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin doesn’t shut up about you when she’s home.” 

“Good things I hope?” 

Dustin nodded, and suspiciously eyed how close you and Steve were standing. “All good things. But I’m surprised at the fact that you came to Indiana.” 

You shrugged. “Robin asked, so I came. Pretty easy decision. Best friends and all that.” 

“So, are you going to be at Steve’s later?” 

“What’s with the interrogation Henderson.” Steve raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m just asking her questions! She’s new! I can’t just..let her into the group—”

Steve scoffed, “As if you are the final decision maker in that?” 

“Uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Sorry Dipshit. The older half really like her, so she’s in.” 

“The rest of us have to vet her and you know it. Sure, Robin wouldn’t be friends with her if she sucked, but the rest of us don’t know her—”

Dustin eyed you up and down again. “I’ll allow it, but I still need further proof.” 

“Don’t be a dick, Dustin.” Max cut in. “She’s pretty, she clearly can put up with Steve’s shit since she’s willing to stand next to him this long. Why can’t there be another girl in the group?” 

Dustin’s mouth floundered for a moment before he settled on his answer. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just….” 

“Dustin.” You smiled at him. “I’m not asking to infiltrate. I get it. This is clearly a tightly bonded family, and I’m not trying to just waltz in here and take a spot. But let me give you my qualifications and you can mull it over, yeah?” 

This amused Steve. Somehow, you had managed to entertain Dustin, and still manage to deescalate whatever the kid was thinking about. Dustin agreed to your terms and waited to hear what you had to say. 

“First off, unlike Robin, I have a license. I don’t own a car but I live in like the major city of major cities, so I don’t exactly need one. But I can drive. Second. I am not a current permanent addition to the group, at least presence-wise. I am like a fun aunt who will let you stay in the city with her when you want to get out of Hawkins, and I only show up at family functions to spice it up a bit. Third, I have traveled to several different countries in the past two years, which means I can and will bring you back goodies from other countries. Fourth, I know how to party correctly, which means I am at a good time, and I will provide references if you need them. Fifth, and finally. I am over twenty-one, which means, I can and will buy you things that you can’t buy yet. This includes weed from a major city where it is in fact better than the stuff you get here.” 

Dustin was taking all of this in, slightly bewildered by the fact that you literally just listed out your qualifications. 

“Oh. And a sixth one, thrown in for free, I can commit to a bit Henderson.” You winked at him before walking over to where Robin had been talking to Will about something. 

You felt Steve’s eyes on you but didn’t turn around, instead basking in the glory of dropping your over qualifications to win Dustin Henderson’s approval. You integrated yourself into her conversation with Will, enjoying the setting sun in the background. Tonight was going to be a good one, especially since you had decided that tonight was the night you wanted to talk to Steve about whatever was going on between the two of you, especially after everything that happened this morning. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The kids managed to convince Steve to let them throw a graduation party at his apartment. Now this usually wouldn’t be such a big deal, but considering that they all could drink and party now, the space almost felt a bit too small. Especially since they invited some of their other friends that you had not yet met. Which is how you ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, watching all of the kids interact with each other. 

“Hey.” 

You looked over and smiled once you realized who it was. “Hey.”

“Wanna, uh–go into the kitchen with me for a second?” 

You nodded and got up, following him past the decently sized group of people, and into the kitchen. It was not a spacious kitchen by any means, but there was a noticeably smaller amount of people, so it felt a million times better. You could breathe. 

Luckily for you, you had been drinking since before noon, and it was well on its way to being one am. The true sign of a lady is how well she day drinks. You were on the balance of buzzed and tipsy, toeing the line with perfect grace. This gave you the confidence to feel a bit better about the fact that you were someone who was extremely touchy, which Steve clearly didn’t mind. Your hand had made its way to his chest, and you were gently tracing shapes. 

“What’s up, Steve.” 

“I–uh.” 

You watched as his eyes flitted up to where the rest of the group was in his living room. He was silent for a few moments, which gave you time to really look over his face, and enjoy just how gorgeous he was. The curve of his lips. The slightly blush he always carried on his cheeks. The hazelnut color of his eyes. All while you were patiently waiting for him to sort through the words in his head. 

“I’m really glad you came to Hawkins.” 

“Me too.” You smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice for a bit of flirtatious emphasis. 

“Because I had a really really good time in the city with you.” 

You nodded, prompting him to continue talking. 

This caused Steve’s smile to grow, with what you were sure were tints of blush across his cheeks. 

“And I—well, I don’t exactly know what to do beyond this because you live in the city and I live here. And Robin might actually kill me if I ask you out, or if she found out the other things we started to get up to.” Steve was talking as quietly as he could, not keen on Robin finding out the compromising positions you had been in when Steve was in New York. “I know she has probably already said something to you but…I don't know. How do you feel about it because–” 

For the first time in over a month, you were able to actually kiss him, instead of just dreaming about his lips, his mint chapstick, the way his hands felt around your waist. You had placed your beverage down on the counter and cupped his cheeks with your hands, basically pulling his lips to yours.

That warmth from before came crawling up your spine and filled your body with light. Fuck, you wanted to feel this for as long as you possibly could. Enjoying Steve. 

But eventually, your proverbial luck would run out, since Robin cleared her throat from the doorway. She wasn’t exactly staring at either of you, but you couldn’t see her face since you covered your mouth with one of your hands, and wrapped the other arm around your stomach, looking away from her, losing all contact with Steve. Steve had quickly pulled one of his hands away, the other one still on your waist. You weren’t sure if Robin could see that one since your body was blocking it. Steve’s thumb ran up and down your hip, trying to calm you down. 

He could feel your heartbeat racing. How embarrassing was that? 

Even the calming sensation of Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down on your hip simply could not bring your heart rate down to a nice even 120/80. You’re pretty sure your Apple watch just pinged you about an increased heart rate. 

The only worse thing was that Robin had just walked in on you kissing her best friend. 

Her two supposed best friends kissed each other. 

“I–uh–I was going to ask you where Y/n went…but um, I can see you’re both a bit busy…” The sound of your name made you wince. 

Robin’s voice was strained, and she was trying to keep whatever emotions she was feeling at bay. Technically she had said this was fine, but she had never had to witness it or deal with it, in person before. 

 “Robin–”

“No, guys, seriously stop.” Robin took a breath. You could tell this was a bit weird for her, but she managed a brave face for the moment. “We talked about it. I’m okay with it. It’s just…It’s going to take me a second to get used to actually seeing it. Honestly, I just—I really wasn’t expecting to find you guys making out in the kitchen 

“Are you sure?” You finally turned your head and looked at her, more nervous about how she would react to this than anything else in your life. 

Robin smiled at you and nodded. “Really, actually, I’m fine. I am. I just, I’m going to go, um…I’ll be out back with Eddie if you need me.” She quickly left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again, to let out the breath both of you were holding. 

“I thought that was going to head in a way worse direction if I’m being so honest with you.” You muttered, squeezing Steve’s arm. 

“You’re telling me. I almost fucking melted when she first came in.” 

This caused you to let out a brief laugh. 

Steve sighed and rubbed his thumb up and down on your hip again. “I think she needs time getting used to it. We all do.” 

After another moment of staring at one another, the feeling of contentment made your heart swell, shoving some bravery forward and out your mouth. 

“I like you a lot, Steve.” 

He smiled. “M-Me too.” 

“Oh, so you agree? You like you a lot? That’s just what a girl wants to hear, damn.” 

Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No no, I meant I Like you a lot, not that I like me a lot—actually—” 

“Steve.” You cut him off, smiling at him. “I was teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” 

Steve couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face harder if he tried. You watched it slowly reach across his eyes and he shook his head. “I mean it though–a lot. I don’t think that even covers it.” 

You placed your hand on his arm and squeezed it. “Don’t flatter me too much or my ego will inflate like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters—”

“WHO JUST SAID GHOSTBUSTERS.” 

Dustin popped into the kitchen, looking around for the culprit. His eyes landed on you two and his eyebrows raised. “Robin’s friend Steve? Really? That’s the girl you’ve been–”

“Dustin. Enough.” Steve tensed up, cutting off the younger kid. 

“No no no.” You moved out of Steve’s arms and towards Dustin. “Please, Dustin. Tell me more, the girl Steve, what exactly.” 

“Dustin I swear to god—” 

You looked over your shoulder at Steve and winked at him, before placing a hand on Dustin’s arm in a very similar way to how you had just touched Steve’s arm. Now, you weren’t a manipulative person by any means. But men were easy to get information out of if you just knew how. 

You felt Steve’s eyes burning into you, watching your every move. 

“Dustin, do you have a girlfriend?” 

He looked at you weirdly but nodded. “Yeah. What does Suzie have to do with this?” 

“How do you feel about her?” 

Dustin’s shoulders detensed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just tell me about her.” 

Dustin, who basically never talked about Suzie anymore since he didn’t want to annoy the group, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Well! She’s the perfect woman. Smart, kind, snarky, bossy, gorgeous—hotter than anyone ever—sorry. But she means the world to me—.” 

You nodded along, listening to everything he had to say about Suzie, even popping in with clarifying questions, or asking how they met. 

“Wow, that’s a long time to be dating someone so young.” 

Dustin nodded and shrugged. “When you know you know.” 

Steve was just watching you, completely fascinated. There were things Dustin was telling you that he had never even heard before. But he knew you were up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what you were doing. 

You nodded and cast a quick glance back to Steve, who met your eyes. “That’s true.” 

Steve almost blushed at the way you looked at him when you said that, making your eyes soften for a moment. When you know you know. 

“Why did you want to know about Suzie?” 

“I saw you texting her earlier. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for your graduation…” 

Dustin shrugged. “She’s coming up next week for about a month so I’d rather have her for a whole month than just a weekend. Besides, we’re both going to the same college so…I’d rather focus on what we do have than not, you know.” 

“You are very wise for a high school graduate Dustin.” 

Dustin shrugged. “Well, I’ve been saying that for years but now I have the degree to back it up….Alright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ve accepted your application into the group here.” 

“Oh thank you, I was a bit worried there.” 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Please, you passed the second I heard the word Ghostbusters come outta your mouth.”

This made you smile. “Dustin, one last question, and then I’ll let you go back to your friends—”

“Actually, I’d much rather be in here since you seem a lot cooler than half of the people in there.”

“I appreciate that Dustin thank you. But, my question is. Does Steve look at his phone like that? The way you were describing Suzie…” 

Dustin scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen him so glued to a screen before–”

“Dustin...”

You shushed Steve. “Let the man continue Harington, God.” 

Dustin preened up a little bit at the sound of being called a man, making him continue. “He’s like…I’ve actually never seen him like this before. He’s always checking his phone but he’s smiling at it and laughing at things…oh…You’re good.” 

You squeezed his arm before letting go. “Dustin, I need you to know that I am actually very interested in your relationship with this girl and I do hope I get to hear more about Suzie, I really do. I also appreciated the information you just gave me.” 

“You’re the phone huh.” 

“You’re a Genius Henderson.” Steve glared at him, definitely trying to conceal the embarrassment he was feeling. 

“So Dustin, tell me more about the way he’s been acting.” 

“Henderson if you don’t leave the kitchen right now–”

Dustin took a step away from you. “I like you, a lot, y/n. But I think I’ve done enough damage for Stevie over there, so I’ll leave you alone.” 

You nodded and gave him a little wave as he took off back into the living room. You turned around on the spot, facing Harrington, who was all but embarrassed at Dustin exposing him. 

“You smile at your phone when I text you huh?” 

“Oh shut up, you knew that already.” 

“It’s nice to get confirmation.” Your hands clasped behind your back, and Steve took the opportunity to walk over to you and place a hand under your chin. 

Your breath? Left the fucking building, maybe even the whole state of Indiana. 

“Confirmation that I liked you?” 

He was lifting your chin up with just one knuckle, just enough that your head tilted up to look at him. 

“I feel like what we did in the bathroom was confirmation enough.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “And if not, then kissing you a few minutes ago should’ve been.” 

You hummed, eyes closing, expecting his lips over yours. 

“You just like to tease me, huh.” 

“Steve.” You whined softly, leaning forward a bit, trying to capture his lips in yours. But he just shifted back slightly, not letting your lips do anything more than ghost over yours. 

“I like to tease too, ya know.” He muttered, his other hand sliding back onto your waist, pulling your body against his. 

You hummed, waiting for him to make his move, giving up the little control you had moments before since the prize was a kiss.

But no kiss came. Steve Harrington dropped his hands from your waist and chin, and stepped back, grabbing his beer off of the counter and winking at you. “If it’s a game you want sweetheart, I can play it too.” 

You groaned and watched as he backed out of the room, leaving you once again up against a counter and completely wound up. 

A few hours later, you had found yourself rolling a joint for the older group, basically giving Eddie a masterclass in the art. He was extremely doubtful about the fact that your weed would be better than his, but when he took his first hit, Eddie Munson coughed. 

The small group of you—Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve—all stared at him with wide eyes. You gently took the joint from his hand took a hit from it, and offered it to your right to Steve, who took a smaller hit than you. Since he had smoked with you before, he didn’t cough, much to Eddie’s dismay. 

Jonathan gratefully took it next, muttering something about Cali Weed, which you didn’t fully catch. Eddie turned to you, eyes extremely red. “Jesus Christ Y/n. What the fuck is that?” 

You exhaled slowly, impressing everyone, but Robin, with the amount of smoke in your lungs. “I say this with so much love in my heart Eddie—It’s good weed.” 

Eddie went to scoff but started coughing again, causing you to smile a bit. You felt the first hit in your face, always. No matter how many times, your face was always the first. It felt slightly buzzy, like a current was pulsing through your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You leaned against Steve, watching as the joint made its rounds. 

“Nancy, not a big smoker?” 

Jonathan shook his head, exhaling the smoke over his shoulder to not blow it all in your face. “Can hold her liquor better than any of us though.” 

“I buy it.” You smiled, resting your head against Steve’s shoulder. 

Robin stuck her tongue out at you from across the circle before taking the joint and taking her own hit. 

“So Y/n.” 

You hummed and darted your eyes towards Eddie. 

“You told Henderson that you’ve been to many different countries, like where?” 

“I don't think that would make sense even if I wasn’t slightly high and slightly intoxicated.” You laughed and shook your head. ”But, uh, I don’t know. I’ve been a lot of places. Do you want me to just start listing them until you find one you like? Like those little Rolodex things old ladies have?” 

Eddie nodded, taking the joint from Robin and taking another hit, this time not coughing. 

You sighed and yawned a little bit, taking the joint when it was offered to you. Instead of taking a puff, you passed it on. 

“Alright so, uh, let's see. I’ve been to about twenty states, and that includes Alaska. I’ve been to Canada a bunch. I have been to the Caribbean, so a bunch of those bad boys. Where else…”

“Serbia.” Robin listed for you, causing you to nod against Steve’s shoulder. 

“Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, all three of which are gorgeous by the way. Which then takes me to Europe so uh those countries, plus obviously England, and Ireland, both Republic of and Northern. Then, let's see, France…”

“France was a good one for you.” 

You nodded. “Paris was good for me in many ways.” You made suggestive eyebrows at Robin who then burst into laughter. 

“Then tell us about it.” 

For some reason, you were starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t your biggest fan. Now normally, if a man didn’t like you, you couldn’t find even a singular fuck to give, but this was bugging you. Maybe because he was so close with Robin. 

“Well.” your gaze hardened a bit as you looked at him. “I think I managed to spend a total of sixteen hours in the Louvre during my entire week in Paris. I spent another day seeing the rest of the Musees that I wanted to see, and then I did the rest of the touristy things the rest of the time.” 

“What about the Nightlife?” 

“What about it?” 

“Tell us about it.” 

“Eddie…” Steve warned, feeling you tense up as Eddie continued to poke and prod at you. His words weren’t sharp, they weren’t knives. But they felt like tiny little shoves across your chest. 

“Steve, it’s fine.” You muttered. 

“If you must know, France has good nightlife, but if you want to party, you go to Spain. If you want exclusive yet fun clubs, you go to Berlin. Anyone who’s traveled outside the continental US could tell you that.” Your jaw set, but the smile on your face was a bit devilish. “But Eddie, dear, what I get up to in foreign cities in terms of my sexuality is between me, my phone, Robin Buckley, and the whiteboard in our apartment.” 

Steve gasped. “That’s what those tally marks are.” 

Robin shook her head but then paused. “Well no, not...kinda I guess. But not exactly what you're thinking.” 

“I slept on your couch. You dirty dirty women.” He grumbled, removing his hand from your thigh, except it was just to lean back a bit, not to move you away from him. 

“We’re both extremely competitive when it comes down to the basics. Besides, Robin was the one who started it, she said that she used to tally how many swings and misses you would take at your old job.” 

Steve hung his head and laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh alongside him. “Did she tell you what that job even was?” 

“Oh Scoops? Absolutely. We cut up that stupid fucking costume one year for her Halloween costume.” 

“That was you!?!”

You nodded and took a sip out of the drink you had brought out. “I’m also a costume designer.” You hummed. “Multi-hyphenate.” 

That joke was meant for Jonathan since it caused him to cough on the air in his lungs. “Resume building 101.” 

You mock cheers’d to that and rested back against Steve’s side, his hand moving back to your thigh. 

Eventually, it was just you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve left, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of the stars. You had forgotten how stunning they could be since you had basically lived within the city for the past few years, not really going out to places where you could see the sky. It was just marvelous to you. 

Robin and Eddie stood up to go, meaning you also had to go. But Robin just kissed your head and whispered in your ear before you could stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You nodded, smiling at her and taking her hand in yours. “I love you, Robin Buckley. Marry me.” 

This caused Robin to burst out in laughter, and she nodded at you. “It’s a date babe.” She said her goodbyes to Steve and left with Eddie who was your ride home. 

The two of you sat together, with you listening as Steve told you about someone, the constellations that he knew, with you lying on his lap, while he pointed out the stars. 

“And that one is Orion’s belt. It’s probably the easiest to spot since it’s literally just three stars in a row.” He whispered, not wanting to break the silence the two of you had created. 

You hummed. “That’s the hunter right?” 

Steve shrugged. “You probably know better than I do.”

You managed to sit up and face him, lips seconds away from him. “And what would make you say that?” 

He shrugged again, no longer looking up at the stars in the sky, but rather at the stars in your eyes. 

Your eyes flitted to his lips quickly, silently asking for permission, which he answered by placing them against yours. Your body exploded like the sun, radiating the peace you had felt all those months ago at the cafe, and then again in the kitchen. Neither of you moved, just sitting together like two lovers would, slowly kissing one another under the universe. 

Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled away, enjoying the sound you let out as he did so. You tilted your head slightly, leaning forward to capture his lips again in yours, but he dodged your lips and kissed your neck instead. His lips found under your ear and kissed there. “Wanna head inside.” He muttered. 

You hummed a positive response, unsure of how the two of you managed to make it inside and towards his bedroom. All you could focus on was the feeling on his lips, on yours, on your neck. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, brushing up your thighs, tugging on your hair. 

But you found yourself backed up against his bedroom door. His body pressed into yours, kissing your neck. “Fuck me, pretty girl.” 

If that’s what he wanted you to do then who were you to deny him that much? Your head lulled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you just moaned in response. Your legs were on the ground, but the only thing really keeping you up against the door was Steve’s knee, which had made its place between your thighs.

Steve’s lips quickly found that sweet spot right above your collarbone and he gently sucked on it, causing your hips to roll forwards and your eyes to roll backward. You inhaled and arched your back the more he sucked on it, nipping it to add some color to his mark. 

Steve felt as your hand snaked its way around his waist, your fingers cool against his skin. You tugged on his shirt, making him pull away slightly and rip his shirt off of his body. 

Both of your hands went to his chest, so you could run your fingers across it, feeling as much of him as you could. 

“Steve?” You muttered as he continued to kiss across your neck. 

He paused and looked up at you. 

“If you don’t do something in the next minute I’m locking you out of your room and fucking myself.” 

He chuckled, pupils dilating at the thought of you touching yourself. But he shook the thoughts away and pulled you in for a kiss. “As you wish, Pretty girl.” 

You hummed at his words, removing your shirt when he tapped on your back and pulled away from you for a moment. 

For some power beyond man, you wore a really cute bra today. It wasn’t lingerie, but it made Steve drool all the same, causing him to groan at the sight. He didn’t stop there though, slowly pulling off your shorts and underwear causing him to kneel down in front of you. You sucked in a breath.

The sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you to eat you out was becoming your new favorite view. 

He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, kissing up your thigh, slowly, looking up at you the whole time. 

He was looking for any kind of hesitation but instead, all he received was a “Fuck, Steve, please.” 

Steve smirked at you before licking up your thigh and gently nipping at it, causing your head to tilt against his bedroom door. 

Steve took his time eating you out. He teased you relentlessly, eliciting every single sound from you he could possibly discover, muttering how much of a “pretty girl” you were into your “pretty little pussy”. 

His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked over so gently. Your hips shifted forward, back on the edge of an orgasm, waiting not-so-patiently for him to make you cum all over his face. 

“Come on baby girl let me taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” 

“P-Please Steve.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, one had in his hair, the other shoved against the door frame for support. 

The heat in your gut was winding up tighter and tighter, causing you to roll your hips, riding his face. Every time your body shuddered, you’d hit Steve’s nose just right against your clit, making you gasp a little bit. 

You moaned his name out, finding yourself closer and closer to the edge as he became more and more relentless fucking you with his tongue and with his words. 

He curled his tongue in the right spot, causing your body to snap. 

Not a single sound left your mouth as you cum on his tongue, back arching against the door, leg shaking as Steve held you up as you came. You felt his tongue working you through, and you could have sworn he moaned at the first taste of you.

Eventually, Steve slowly pulled away, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs. Your high was slowly coming back down and you muttered out a ‘holy fuck’, which caused Steve to nip at your thigh. Still sensitive, you let out a moan in response before yanking on Steve’s hair gently.  

He chuckled, the breath from his lips causing you to squirm a bit. What a sight you must have been: almost completely naked, covered in hickeys and marks, with a man wrapped in between your legs, up against his bedroom door. 

Steve slowly let your leg down, before kissing his way back up, enjoying every little sharp intake of breath, and every little moan that got caught in your throat. He made his way to your lips and it was dirty how much you enjoyed kissing him while he still had you all over his lips. It was obscene. 

“How ya doing pretty girl.” He muttered, arms wrapped around your waist, lips on yours. 

You were blissed out. Every time you thought about what you just experienced, your hips twitched a little bit, and all you could do was use your hands to shove Steve’s lips further into yours. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you happily obliged, opening up a bit more so he could taste all of you. 

When he pulled away so you could breathe, he went back to kissing your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about your taste for fucking months.” 

You swore you could orgasm a second time at that sentence alone. 

Steve’s fingers melted into your skin, and you were sure that there were permanent sun spots where his hand was, forever indicating where his hands should always be. 

You gently pulled on his hair once again, gaining his attention. “Steve.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb up and down on his neck. 

He nodded and reached over, opening the door to his room. 

The two of you slowly made your way to his bed, lips on lips, hands grabbing for skin, wanting more contact than what you had. 

By the time you were on the bed, your skin had become a canvas and Steve was the artist, his lips leaving little marks scattered across your skin like constellations. 

Steve pulled away for a moment, sitting back on his heels, causing you to sit up. You took over his task, slowly unbuckling his belt, looking up at him the entire time. Steve licked his lips and bit his bottom one at the sight of you. 

You slowly pulled it out of the belt loops and then threw it somewhere in the room. Your fingers made their way up his thighs before they popped open the button of his jeans. You could see the strain on the jeans from how hard Steve was, pushing against the fabric.

He groaned as you unzipped them before leaning back on your hands, watching him take them off. You could have sworn you started to drool when you saw his cock. 

His hands almost started you as he placed one beside your head, leaning down to kiss you. 

You didn’t realize that he had been wearing his silver chain this entire time, until it brushed against your collarbone when his lips connected with yours. You felt as Steve slid his knee between your legs, and his other hand cupped your cheek. 

“Steve I–” You muttered against his lips, but he cut you off by kissing you again. 

After a moment, he pulled away, hovering above you. “What gorgeous.” 

“Please.” You whispered, feeling antsy at the fact that you hadn’t felt him yet, that he was barely touching you. 

He smiled slightly. “You have somewhere to be?” He joked, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

You rolled your eyes. “What if I did.”

He kissed your collarbone. “By all means.” 

The top of your chest, above the bra. “Leave then.” 

You let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of his mouth above your chest and closed your eyes. 

“No?” He licked up your neck and nipped at the bottom of your ear. “Come on baby girl, nothing more to say.” 

“F-fuck.” 

He chuckled and slid his hand down to the front of your bra, undoing it with one hand. “Opens from the front…someone was prepping.” 

Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “N-no.” 

He shrugged and took it off of you. “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart.” 

Your nipples hardened at the cool air surrounding you both, and Steve put his hand on your waist, slowly sliding up your side until he could cup your tit in his hand, giving it a squeeze. 

You moaned at the contact but kept your eyes on the scene in front of you. It would be criminal to not watch Steve take his sweet time with you. 

He shifted again, making it so he was able to rest on top of you, and trace designs across your chest with his tongue. It flicked against one of your nipples which made your body jump up against his. 

“Sensitive?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, one of your hands making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it tightly. 

He rubbed his thumb over the other nipple, flicking it. His tongue went to work, finding out everything that made you feel good, that made you moan. Once Steve had worked you up, he switched his attention to your other tit, his lips kissing across the valley of your chest. 

He was teasing you, watching every single movement of your body and while you wanted to shove him back down to clean up his mess, you couldn’t help it. You had never seen a sight so intoxicatingly hot. His chain dragged around with him, adding to the sensation of his mouth on your skin. 

Somehow from barely moving, you felt like your body was on fire, it was too hot. You felt too good. 

“Gonna take my sweet time with you, pretty girl.” He muttered, kissing back up your collarbone. “Gonna hear every single one of those pretty sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Yeah?” 

All you could do was nod and close your eyes, trying not to orgasm right then and there. 

He tsked and squeezed your waist. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want to hear you.” 

“Yes–yes–please god yes.” Your answer poured out of you before you could even think about it. The only thing in your head was Steve Harrington. Steve’s hips, his ass, his arms, his chest, his lips, his hair, his chain, his stupid fucking smirk. 

You felt him pull away for a moment, and you opened your eyes. He had gotten up and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper somewhere. You watched as he slid it over his cock, which was already glistening with pre-cum, causing him to smirk. 

“I make you excited or something, Harrington?” 

He laughed as he made his way back over to the bed. “Something like that yeah.” 

You leaned up slightly and captured his lips on your own, enjoying the moment of just his lips on yours. 

He hummed and you felt him slowly guide himself to your entrance.  

You’d never spent the whole night fucking someone, until now, and even then, you weren’t sure what you were doing was just fucking one another. Sure it started out like that, but it evolved into something more the second Steve Harrington took your hand in his and pushed into you for the first time, whispering everything he adored about you into your ear. 

A sigh that could be categorized as relief left your mouth when he bottomed out, just letting the both of you get used to the feeling of one another. 

He kissed your jaw before slowly pulling his hips back out. 

You moaned into his ear as he started moving, your bodies moving in sync just like those cheesy books you had read told you. 

Feeling good has never come so easy to you. The way Steve Harrington was kissing you, so tender, with sure care made you want to freeze the world so you could stay here forever, with him. Your moans match up to each thrust, each inhale from when he kisses the sensitive skin right above your collarbone. 

The stars outside shined brighter for you, that’s what you would swear when telling your friends, that the universe quieted and the stars multiplied so you could see all of them as Steve made love to you, whispered how much he adored you, how he couldn’t wait to kiss you the moment he saw you at the airport. How he wanted to see what you tasted like the moment he first met you. 

It was overwhelming, only breathing in Steve, bodies picking up the pace as you simultaneously leaned over the line, ready to snap. 

You begged him, you needed him. His name falling from your lips with every single movement he made. 

His hand slid down your body and slowly started toying with your clit. “Come on pretty, let me feel you. I want to feel you. You’ve been so good for me, so fucking hot baby, let me feel you.” 

It snapped. The coil in your stomach snapped and you came, walls clenching down on him. Your mind went blank and your vision was filled with millions of stars that had floated in through the window and hung in Steve Harrington’s eyes. 

The feeling of you caused him to quickly follow you, hips thrusting into you, making you both ride one another’s orgasms. The sound of his breath, his moans, caused another wave to crash down on you. Your back arched, jaw quivering as your chest lost all of its air. The weight of his body kept you grounded but your mind was in the clouds. 

That calmness you had experienced before settled into your chest. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was no insatiable hunger, no need to go again (at the moment), nothing of the sort. Just a need to become inseparable, to become one whole again from two halves. 

And you could tell Steve felt the same from the way he kissed your cheek and lifted his head to look at you. You both felt it. The feeling as if this was right as if you were supposed to be here with one another, as if it was written in the stars, or read through some tea leaves—you were supposed to be falling in love with Steve Harrington. 

You leaned up ever so slightly, saying everything you possibly could with your lips against his, with no words being spoken. There was no need for them anyway because you just knew Steve felt the same. 

______________________________________________________________________________

You spent the next week, doing your best to split your time between your best friend, and your something new. Robin was actually doing quite well adjusting to the two of you since it felt like this had always been normal. 

The night before you and Robin were set to leave, Steve had taken you out by Lover’s Lake again, remembering how much you loved hearing about the stars. It was breathtaking. Truly the sky felt so vast and so big and you were standing underneath all of that with someone you truly cared about. 

The night didn’t end there. 

The two of you melted into one another in the backseat of Steve’s car. Skin on Skin. Stars collide in your eyes. Hands digging deeper than skin into souls. 

Yet after all of that, you were still too terrified to ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday. 

What Now? 

“I had been, uh, thinking.” 

Steve’s thumb was rubbing against your hip, bringing your focus back to him. 

“And, uh, we have to…”

You nodded. 

“Steve I–”

Steve shook his head. “Let me get through this, yeah?” He whispered, almost like he was scared to even hear his own voice. 

“I-I have been searching for a way out of Hawkins for a while now. I love my friends, but now that the kids have graduated and-and are moving away, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” 

You brushed your hand against his cheek as a sign of comfort, not saying anything. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m latching onto you because you could get me out of here. I need you to know that’s not—I have never felt more sure about anything—anyone in my entire life than I feel about you. It sounds fucking crazy to say out loud, but I swear your touch literally brings my heart rate down. Hearing your laugh is like a fucking drug and, and, I want to spend as long as I can staring into your eyes, memorizing every single centimeter of your body, watching you as you stare up at the stars. I w-want that. I want it so badly. It sounds delusional since we’ve barely spent a full week's worth of time together. But speaking it out into the universe has fucked me over so much in the past. Anytime I’d utter any true want out loud, it’d, uh, it’d disappear. But I can’t—I think I’d go batshit if I couldn’t kiss you every day. What–what I’m trying to say is that—” 

You gently placed your lips on his lips, not having the words in the English language to describe the field of flowers blooming in your chest under the sunshine that was Steve Harrington. 

Steve smiled and pulled away after a moment. 

“You were gonna launch into the sky with the way your mouth was running.” 

Steve nervously laughed and nodded, closing his eyes. 

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m into you because you could be a way out of Hawkins. I need you to know that I’m seriously falling for you and I-I couldn’t be more in awe of you every time I look at you.” 

Your eyes started to water and you shoved his chest. “Fuck Steve. That was…That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” You muttered, burying your face in his neck, to hide the fact that this man just made you so emotional using minimal words. 

The two of you sat there, enjoying the company of one another, whispering sweet everythings in each other’s ears. It was everything to you. His hands on your body, his eyes locked onto yours. The thought of having to leave the next morning had you terrified since neither of you really had any idea how you were going to make this work, but you’d be fucking damned if you weren’t going to try. Steve was worth it to you. He was worth everything. 

And suddenly, because of Steve Harrington, you started to believe that you were worth everything too. 

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[diejager]

DUDE IM ACC OBSESSED WITH Stepdad!konig AND Dbf!horangi ITS INSANE

NOT TOO OBSESSED THAT YOU FORGOT TO BLINK :D AND HERE’S MOAR

Your mother kissed your cheek, her painted nails tickling your face when she smothers you in joyful and excited kisses. She had a diner date with her husband, your stepdad König, and she was boiling with enthusiasm that left you feeling tired and unsettled.

“Oh, don’t worry, hun,” she cooed, bringing you into her arms to smooth your - what she thought to be - fear of being home alone without her or your pet. “Kim promised he’d watch over you for tonight, I know how well you get along so I’m sure everything’s going to be fine!”

You wanted to scoff, you weren’t a child anymore. You wanted to remind her that she often left you home alone to go on business trips or on dates that would somehow last the whole weekend. You didn’t need anyone to babysit you, especially at 24, and especially not someone like Horangi. Now, knowing that you’d have to entertain a guest and your stepdad’s best friend while they went on a date.

You thought of locking the doors while you waved them off, watching the car drive away, but he had a spare key to your house. So you sat in your room, with full intention of stay in the safety of your room without your furry friend. It wouldn’t long before he took care of everything home and came to yours.

The distinct sounds of socked feet thumping around your living room made you purse your lips, a deep frown when he stopped before your door and knocked. You couldn’t lock the door to your room, it had no lock, he could open the door and come in whenever he wanted and yet he decided to knock, a clear taunt at your helplessness.

“What is it?”

Rather than answering, Horangi pushed open the door and stepped in, crowding your bed as he drawled his way to you. He wore baggy pants and a compression shirt (he and König loved to wear them around the house), face bare of glasses or a mask, showing you the different scars that decorated his clean face.

“They’ll be gone for the night, König’s taking her to a hotel to let us have some….” He licked his lips, the corners lifting in a cruel smirk. “Peace and quiet.”

He loomed over you, warm body pressing you into the mattress, his cock already hard and grinding into your thigh. His grin and gleeful stare never left your face as his hands wandered over your stomach, slipping under your shirt to fondled with your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipple all the while he was rutting against your thigh.

“Let’s not disappoint, hmm?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

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[papercorgiworld]

Can you forgive what he forgot?

Mattheo, Theodore and Enzo

You two break up, but then he takes a bad hit in a fight and forgets you two broke up. When he wakes up he immediately asks for you.

I loved this request, but for some reason it was a struggle to write. I battled words and phrases, but I got it written down! I must apologize. I hoped to write this for all Slytherin boys, but it was quite a big project so in the end I decided to stick with Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo. I hope it’s good… happy readings my sweet readers!

I. The break up

“How dare you pick a fight with my friends? How many times have I told you to just stay away from them if you don’t like them.” Your boyfriend groans and rolls his eyes. In his book you were being irrational, again. “Maybe you should hang out with better people. Maybe friends that don’t want to break us up.” He says with a stern voice, while getting off of the couch and towering over you. “What?” You yell and run a frustrated hand over your face. “Break us up? In Merlin’s name, have you been drinking? Or are you really this delusional?” He grabs your arm and drags you to his room, so the rest of the common room doesn’t get to enjoy the little show. 

“I’m delusional? You’re the one believing everyone wants to be your friend and support your relationship and let’s all have hugs for breakfast and sing happy songs by a bonfire.” You lose it at his empty argument and grab a pillow throwing it at him. “I don’t know why I keep putting up with your shit!” You yell and you can feel tears welling up. He stares at you with a stern look. “Oh don’t worry about it anymore, because this ridiculous relationship is over!” You take a step back at his loud voice and there is a long silence as you both tremble in anger. Just before your boyfriend wants to speak up you swallow and bravely look up to him. “Fine.” His eyes widen as you turn around and open the door with a shaky hand. Say anything! Make her stay! Move! Don’t let her leave! Say something! His mind rages as he feels like all air has been ripped away, but no words come. The door closes behind you and you two are no longer together, just like that. Tears roll down your cheeks as you speed walk to your dorm and by the time you get there, your now ex-boyfriend still stands in the exact same spot: silent, frozen but in just as much pain as you are.

II. The fight

Mattheo

Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Mattheo grits his teeth as he overhears the hufflepuff, why couldn’t people just mind their own business. “How long do you guys think I should wait before I, you know, can ask her out.” His friends chuckle, before responding. “A week.” “The girl needs time, you don’t want to come off too strong.” “Nah, she’s been done with him for a long time, she just didn’t dare break up with the psycho. Really, just ask her.” Cedric nods, taking in all the different opinions. “Yeah, she was probably terrified of him. I bet he treated her like crap. She deserves so much better.” Cedric’s words hurt Mattheo, because part of him feared that you really hated being with him.

Mattheo turns and heads for the opposite direction in an attempt to avoid the confrontation, but after two steps he grits his teeth and balls up his fists. Nope. You’re not asking her out. In one sudden move Mattheo turns around, eyes dead focused on the hufflepuff who was still chatting away with his friends. With one easy spell Mattheo pulls Cedric towards him. “You should be the one terrified of me.” Cedric can barely register Mattheo’s word before a fist hits him hard, making him stumble back and reach for his bleeding nose. Mattheo grabs Mattheo’s color, but before he can throw his second punch he feels himself fly across the hallway. 

Theodore

Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Theodore's eyes go dark as they move to find Cedric in the hallway. “Oh, they broke up? Good for her. That prick was underneath her.” Cedric nods at his friend. “I’m thinking of asking her out.” At Cedric’s words Theodore’s eyes go from dark to dead. Normally he would’ve kept his cool longer, but Theo knew you had had a crush on Cedric until third year. “You should. She looked happy this morning.” “Totally, she’s not missing his toxic ass at all.” Theodore clenches his jaw. Sure he had his issues, he was aware of that, but he never manipulated you in any way. 

Before Theo’s fully aware of it he feels himself move towards the group of friends. With dead eyes and big steps he radiates anger. His large hand lands on one guy’s shoulder firmly pulling him back so Theo now stands in front of Cedric. “I’m thinking you should start minding your own business and keep your mouth shut about my relationship.” Any other day the hufflepuff would have chosen a peaceful way out but not today. “Your relationship? There is no relationship, you broke her heart.” In a split second, Theodore’s fist meets Cedric’s jaw, making the latter fall. As Cedric scrambles up Theo pushes away the ones trying to keep him at bay and throws another punch to which Cedric quickly reacts by pulling out his wand, sending Theodore crashing into a wall.

Enzo

Lorenzo was frustrated, frustrated with you for walking out and frustrated himself for letting you. Instead of being his usual happy self he was a stormy cloud drifting around Hogwarts scowling at everyone that so much as breathed in his direction. So when an already cranky Enzo hears the laughter of Cedric and his friends he’s eyes turn furious watching the happy lot carelessly banter. However, with his focus on the hufflepuff he overhears your name. “Cedric, did you hear (y/n) is single?” Cedric’s grins. “Yeah, I plan on asking her out sometime soon. I mean I’m not that surprised that it didn’t work out, they just weren’t a good fit.” Suddenly dropping his bag, Lorenzo struts in the directions of the group. “Hey, Diggory! You know what's a good fit?” The Hufflepuff was given zero time to calculate what was coming. “Your nose and my fist!” Enzo’s words are filled with hatred as Enzo’s fist breaks Cedric’s nose, making him stumble several steps back. 

Mattheo grins, liking this Enzo way more than the happy guy he usually was, but as he watches Lorenzo ball up his fist again he sees Cedric reach for his wand, before he can warn Enzo, he’s already flying several feet up to then crash harshly onto the stone castle floors. Everyone gasps hearing the loud tut and seeing Enzo’s body laying still.

III. The hospital wing

You had heard from Blaise what had happened and how bad it was, but even though your heart ached to be with him you were his ex and thus had lost every right to be by his side. With your head resting in your hand you picked at your food. Your friends stared at you, searching for the right thing to say. You’re about to snap at them and tell them that staring is impolite, but you catch Draco approaching you and signaling you to get up. Hesitant you walk over to him. “He’s asking for you.” He looks a bit awkward, but you nod calmly and try to act composed. As soon as you walk through the doors of the great hall and you’re out of sight, you speed walk to the hospital wing. Once in front of the door you feel yourself get shaky, fearing an uncomfortable reunion after the fight. Why did he even ask for me? Does he regret breaking up with me?

Mattheo

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Riddle?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Mattheo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Mattheo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Mattheo whose eyes were already on you.

“Princess.” Mattheo mutters with a groggy voice and a half smile, when you get closer he opens his arms. You are hesitant for a moment, but allow him to embrace you. When he lets go a little you immediately take a step back, making him frown at  your distant behavior. With gentle fingers move through his curls so you can study the bruise on the side of his face. Never liking the idea of you seeing him hurt and maybe thinking he’s weak Mattheo reaches for your hand, pulling it towards his chest to rest there. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shake your head at his stupid tough act. “Why did you ask for me, Matt?” His eyebrows knit together and he chuckles. “Please don’t be mad because I got in another stupid fight.” He snakes a hand to rest on your hips, gently squeezing you as a way to get you closer to him. He wants you close to him, like you always were, but you don’t budge and just frown at him.

“Please, princes. I made a bad fall, I don’t need any more attitude from you.” You cross your arms getting angry at how he pretended like everything was fine. “Please, (y/n), I promise no fights for a week.” You huff. A week, seriously, that's not even an achievement. But also not the point, Riddle. “I don’t care that you got your ass kicked. You dumped me, you can’t just expect me to come cuddle you because you’re hurt.” Mattheo looked horrified at your words. He was utterly confused. “Dumped? What are you talking about?” He moves to properly sit up on the bed and grabs your free hand, while keeping a firm grip on the hand on his chest. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to hold onto you tightly and make sure you didn’t leave the room. “Princess, I love you, I would never dump you.” Mattheo whispers and as he leans in to kiss you, you remember what Dumbledore had said.  He doesn’t remember that we broke up! His soft lips tenderly lock with yours, finally putting his mind at ease.

Theodore

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Nott?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Theodore’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Theo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Theodore who’s eyes were already on you.

When he notices how hesitant you are to walk towards him Theo sighs. Ever since he woke up he had this intense need to have you close to him. “(y/n), love. Don’t be mad at me. I don’t remember any of it, but I’m pretty sure Cedric deserved it.” You slowly approach him, studying the bruise near his temple. Blaise had told you how after being slammed into the wall Theodore brutally fell down, face smacking against the cold floor and the image horrified you, but seeing how painful colors covered his face made your heart squeeze in agony. “Why? Why always get into stupid fights?” You murmur and Theo stretches, almost falling out of the bed, so he can grab your hand and pull you closer. “I honestly don’t remember.” He whispers, chuckling softly, and pats on an open spot next to him, urging you to take a seat next to him. “Theo-” You sigh and look down at his hand, holding yours. “What’s wrong?” Theodore asks, fingers gently brushing your jaw as he begs for you to look at him. You snort at his stupid question. “We’re over remember, you said so. So why did you ask for me? Did you expect me to fall back into your arms just because you got into another stupid fight?” 

Theo pulls away from you and studies your face. “What are you saying? We’re over? When did I say something like that?” A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he moves the sheets aside, wanting to get out of bed and hug you. He needed to hold you. None of the things were making any sense and he kept feeling this urgent need to hold you. Your mouth drops a little at his words, but as soon as you see him try to get out of bed you stop him. “You need to rest.” You say pushing him gently. “No, I need to hold my girlfriend.” He counters and you’re sure you hear a little panic in his voice, like he really needed to hold you. “You don’t remember?” You whisper under your breath and Theo tries to make out the words you’re saying, but it was too silent so he just stares at you guessing at what’s going on inside your head. “Move aside.” You whisper and Theo complies, laying back down in the bed and relaxing when you join him. You quietly rest your head on his shoulder as your mind struggles to grasp the bizarre situation.

Enzo

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Berkshire?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Enzo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Lorenzo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Enzo who’s eyes were already on you.

“(y/n)! Thank Salazar, you’re finally here. Please tell them that I’m fine. They want me to stay the night for supervision, but that’s just crazy.” You take a deep breath and walk towards him. “Is that why you asked me to come?” You question dryly, making Enzo frown. “No, I just missed you. I found it weird that you weren’t here by my side when I woke up. I know you’re a busy bee, but I thought at least your boyfriend deserved a little visit and maybe a massage.” Lorenzo wiggles his eyebrows at the last bid and you cross your arms giving him a stern look. “Boyfriend? Did you really think I would come back running into your arms because your dumbass got into a fight.” Enzo pushes himself off of the pillow, clearly not pleased with your words. “Yeah, boyfriend.” He grabs your arm, pulling you against the hospital bed. “What’s gotten into you? Please don’t tell me you’re picking Cedric’s side?” 

You huff and narrow your eyes at him. “Gotten into me? You told me you were done with me and-” Enzo shakes his head in confusion, while you talk, before interrupting you. “What? I’m not done with you, you’re my girl, you’ve always been the love of my life, why would you think any different?” Enzo swings his arm around your shoulder pulling you against his chest. As he places a soft kiss on your forehead you realize what Dumbledore tried to tell you. Enzo didn’t remember your break up. He still thinks we’re dating.

IV. Like it never happened 

You had tried to tell him about the fight, but his brain just couldn’t remember and neither did he believe that he would actually let you leave. After a while you just gave up on trying to convince him it really happened and gave in to his begging for affection. Cuddled up against him, you both fell asleep in the small hospital bed. The next morning you wake up first and stare at him for several minutes debating on what to do with the situation. He had broken your heart, but now he was back and you judged yourself for it, but in truth you were happy to have him back. 

When he woke up he pulled you closer and kissed you. "Good morning." He sang and in that moment you decided that you were suffering from memory loss as well. The break up did not happen.

***

Mattheo

“Can you believe that on my first day back Snape tells me to write a three page essay?” You nod, before joining your boyfriend on his bed and brushing your fingers through his hair. “It’s Snape, I think he was being nice.” You joke and he smiles, eyes admiring your every feature. “Are you here to help me or distract me?” Mattheo smirks as you again comb his hair with your fingers. “Help.” You state before pulling away from him and reaching for some of the books scattered around on his bed. However, now that you are this close to him, Snape’s essay is the last thing on the slytherin’s mind. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you shake your head. “No, Matt, I know what you’re thinking about, but you need to finish your essay first.” You try to pull away, but he just tightens his grip and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “What am I thinking about exactly, princess?” You force your lips into a line, not giving him the satisfaction of a smile. 

“I’m not going to entertain your little game, Mattheo.” You resist his charm, but he’s persistent and pulls you into his lap. His lips brush your ear and you can’t see his smirk, but you know it’s there. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his warm breath on your skin. “Tell me, princess, what exactly am I thinking?” Your answer is censored.

Theodore

A very frustrated Theo drops two books onto the library table loud enough to make some people throw him a look, but he just ignores it falling in one of the chairs and sighing. You ruffle his hair in an attempt to calm him. “It’s only three pages.” Theodore lets his head fall to the side as he watches you sit down next to him. “He’s punishing me for missing class, but it’s not like it was my intention to lose consciousness and miss class.” You ignore his complaint and reach for the books. “Let's just get started. The sooner you’re done, the sooner we can do something fun.” Theodore watches you as you focus on the books, feeling drawn to you he leans in. “How about we do something fun first and then I’ll do this stupid essay.” A flustered smile tugs on your lips at his seductive voice. “You might’ve hit your head pretty hard, but you’re still the same boy as before.” You mutter trying to keep your cool and focus on the books in front of you. 

“Boy?” Theodore’s voice is playful, but there’s also something twisted about it. You had struck a nerve by belittling him like that. Without warning he gets up, gently wrapping his hand around your arm. You look up at him with a confused look. “Before I start on this essay there’s something more important I need to do.” You get up and follow in his step. “What’s this urgent thing you suddenly need to do?” You whisper still clueless. “You.” Thedore answers sternly before pushing you into a nearby broom closet. “Boy? Really?” He snaps at you before harshly crashing his lips onto yours in the dark confined space.

Enzo

“Will you read my essay and check for mistakes?” Enzo asks while you watch the water of the black lake. You look over at him as he reaches in his bag for the parchment. “Essay?” You question. “Yeah, Snape made me write a three page essay because I missed class yesterday. Like it was my fault, if anything Cedric should write a three page essay.” You snort, knowing full well that Enzo was the one that started the fight. He hands you the essay and you immediately dig in, scanning the words carefully. Your boyfriend can’t help but stare as you underline a few words. You looked drop dead gorgeous in the sunlight, intensly focussed on the paper in front of you. Gods, my girlfriend’s a sexy nerd.

“On second thought.” Enzo whispers in your ear, leaning closer. “Maybe that essay isn’t that important after all.” You bite your lip, feeling your face heat up at Enzo’s closeness. “How about we go for a swim?” Enzo reaches for the paper, but you don’t let go, trying to resist him. However, your boyfriend knows exactly how to get your attention and he places tender kisses under your ear, tracing down your neck before his nose brushes your cheek. “Or we could just go to my room.” His husky whisper and his soft touch turn you into a willing victim for whatever he has planned.

V. Morning memories

Your boyfriend shoots up from a nasty dream. With his heart racing he immediately looks next to him to check if you’re with him. You are. You are peacefully sleeping and he feels his body relax. His hand runs over his face and through his hair as he tries to wrap his head around what he had just dreamed or remembered. Slowly he realizes that it wasn’t just a dream, it was something that had actually happened. 

You two had a fight. You left. He felt so empty. Then there was Cedric. Next the fall. 

He can’t get his heart rate down and his brain is running wild as well, so he decides to quietly get up, careful to not wake you up. He slips into his sweatpants and leaves the room, sighing once he’s finally away from your sleeping figure. He scans the common room in search of his friends. When doesn’t spot a single one of the usual suspects he frowns and Pansy patiently waits for him to meet her eyes. Finally his eyes land on Pansy. “The rest of your boy band is out.” A smirk on her face as she shamelessly scans his bare chest. She wasn’t going to deny that you had great physical taste in men. “You look distressed.” She adds after a few seconds. The wise thing for him was to turn around, but your boyfriend is in need of a distraction as he feels himself panic, worried about the whole break up situation. 

“No stress.” He says, obviously stressed and crosses his arms. “Afraid she’ll figure out.” Pansy tilts her head slowly, eyes dangerous like she’s settling on a prey. He clenches his jaw. How does she know I suddenly remember? “She won’t. We’re back together and all is fine. There’s no need for her to know that I remember.” Pansy smirks. “Would it hurt that bad to admit you made a mistake and want her back?” 

Mattheo

“We’re happy. So why waste time on pointless arguments and apologies, she’s obviously already forgiven me.” Mattheo argues, slightly raising his voice, annoyed with Pansy. “I don’t know if she’s forgiven you for the fight, but if I were I would come clean, because if she finds out you remember you’ll have to apologize twice and big time.” Mattheo grits his teeth. “She won’t find out if you don’t tell.” Pansy licks her lips and her eyes wander over Mattheo’s shoulder. “Oh, Matt, don’t you know that things are never that simple.” 

It only takes Mattheo a second to realize that Pansy’s looking over his shoulder in the direction of his room. You had woken up and come to search for him. You had heard everything he had said. Slowly his eyes roll to the back of his head, throwing his head back a little in frustration with himself. Apologize twice and big time. He turns around, but your eyes only meet for a moment as you instantly turn around to head back to his room to get your stuff and get out. 

But this time Mattheo wasn’t going to let you go. He follows you and shuts the door behind you, locking you in his room as he rests against the door watching you grather your stuff. “I’m sorry.” He whispers with his head hanging low. “Oh, now you apologize.” You huff and Mattheo groans, pushing himself off of the door and into your direction. “Princess.” He whines and you turn around to face him with teary eyes. “Were you really going to continue lying?” You ask with a shaky voice and Mattheo sighs, reaching for your hands. “Probably.” You want to turn away from him, but he holds on tightly to your hands, squeezing them to ask you to look at him. “I’ll do anything to keep you with me. I don’t want to lose you.” You pull your hands back and try to push him away. “Everything, except being honest and apologizing?” You snap and he bites his tongue, while shutting his eyes for a second. “I let you walk away! I called our relationship ridiculous! How can an apology make up for that?! (y/n), I don’t just want you to forgive me I want you to forget just like I did, because I hate what I said, I hate that I let you walk through this door.”

His loud voice has you shaking a bit, but you stay in place in front of him and he sighs, looking at you with soft eyes. “I don’t- I honestly don’t know how you can put up with my shit? I can’t forgive myself- I really don’t get why you came back to me? So yeah, I wanted to continue pretending like none of it happened. I’m sorry.” You sigh and shake your head, eyes wandering around as you struggle with his stupid explanation. “I want you back. I love you.” Mattheo whispers with a pleading voice as he takes a small step towards you, he wants to reach for your hands but doesn’t dare to, so his fingers just softly brush yours. With an angry huff you turn away from him and his heart breaks, but then he sees you drop your stuff on his bed and turn back around to face him. “I love you too, Mattheo Riddle, and you should know by now that I love you so much that I can forgive the stupid stuff you do.” In an instant Mattheo’s smiling, almost grinning, he closes the distance between you two and his arms snake around you. A gentle hand brushes your hair as he adores your pretty face and drowns in your eyes. “You’re staying?” You nod and he cups your face kissing you intensely. 

Theodore

“Yeah, it would, Pansy.” Theodore snaps and Pansy grins looking back to him. A hard noise makes Theodore turn around to face the door of his room. “Oh, Theodore, you screwed up big time.” He turns around looking at Pansy for confirmation. “She heard everything.” Theodore hurries back to his room where you are quickly gathering your uniform so you can leave. As soon as you spot him you throw the first item at hand in his direction, but he gracefully catches it. “Twat!” You yell and Theodore sighs, dropping his head. “Why can’t you just apologize like a normal person, Theo?” Theodore walks over to you and grabs your arm forcing you to look at me. “You had already forgiven me so I thought, done is done.” You frown at his cheap argument. “Really? You wanted to take the easy way out?” Theo huffs at the accusation. “So did you by just coming back to me.” Your mouth drops, was he really turning this on you. “Well, I’m sorry for that, but your bruised dumb ass just wouldn’t believe that we broke up!” You angrily pull your arm back out of Theodore’s grasp, stumbling back a few steps. 

When you try to walk past him he takes a step to block you. You try to give him a shove, but it’s to no avail, he won’t budge. Quietly he waits for you to meet his eyes. When you do you notice how soft his eyes are. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’m sorry I wanted to continue pretending like it didn’t happen, but I was so afraid that if you knew I remembered you would leave. If my memories were back there was no need for you to babysit me anymore and I can’t watch you leave a second time.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Theodore Nott you can be such an- an- urgh!” You were so annoyed with him you couldn’t find the words. “I’m an urgh?” Theo questions and now you're seriously considering punishing him in the face. When he sees you get angrier he grimaces at his own comment. “I know, I know, I’m a total urgh.” This seems to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just want to forget about the break up again and I want you to forget as well, because I need you, I love you so much that I need you. I plan to grow old with you so yeah I thought pretending like the break up didn’t happen was a good idea.” You cross your arms. “It was a stupid idea.” You say with a stern voice and Theodore nods with sheepish eyes. “I know.” 

You sigh and now that you’re both calm, Theo wraps his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Please tell me you can forgive me?” You listen to his heartbeat for a moment, before pulling away. “You’re lucky I love you. This was a total urgh move and I’m still a bit angry, but I forgive you.” Your boyfriend smiles and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling your chin up with a gentle finger. “Thanks for putting up with me.” He whispers before leaning in for a passionate kiss.

Enzo

“Why would I apologize? I got her back didn’t I?” Enzo states, rather proud of himself and Pansy gives him a funny look. “That’s a bit cheap, don’t you think? Breaking up with a girl, breaking her heart and then not even apologizing for it.” Pansy offers Enzo one last chance to decide to do the right thing as you listen, quietly standing near the door of his room. “Pans, she’s never going to figure it out, this way is just easier.” Pansy facepalms. “Enz, you’re about to get your ass dumped.” Pansy sighs and points to the door of his room open. Panic fills Enzo’s face as he realizes you might have heard something and he hurries to his room. When he notices you’re switching from your pajamas into your uniform he closes the door and chuckles awkwardly. “In a hurry?” He asks and you throw him a dark scowl. Okay, she heard. I’m such an idiot. “Thinking back about what I just said, I realize that maybe it wasn’t the best approach.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at an apology, before searching his room for your shirt, which Enzo spots before you and hides behind his back. 

“Lorenzo Berkshire! Give me back my shirt!” You say with a loud and stern voice, making Enzo nervous. “Please, sweetheart give me a chance to apologize.” You cross your arms and judge him. “I thought you didn’t want to apologize?” Your voice is dripping with irony and Enzo makes an apologetic face. “Yeah, but on second thought I think I should apologize, big time.” You tilt your head and stare him right in the eyes. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I so so so am.” Enzo pleads as he walks closer to you. “I’m just so happy we’re back together and I just wanted things to stay this way. You don’t get how much I love you. I’m miserable without you and I was afraid that if I would bring up the fight- if you knew I got my memories back then maybe we would be over again and- and- I love you, please don’t leave me.” 

You open your hand, urging him to give your shirt back and Enzo drops his shoulders, but with an aching heart he does give it back. “I’m sorry for forcing you to stay.” You take your shirt and look at Lorenzo’s sad eyes. “You’re an idiot, Berkshire.” He nods. “I know. I told the love of my life that our relationship was ridiculous and then I let her leave.” You smile at him as he looks at the floor. “But I can’t help but love you.” At those words Enzo looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you forgiving me?” You chuckle. “I guess so. I love you too much.” You take a step closer to him. “Too much to stay angry at you.” A bright smile forms on Enzo’s lips, while he picks you up and twirls you around. You can’t help but laugh at how silly he is and when he sets you down again he kisses you. “We’re never breaking up again, ever.” He whispers and you nod.

Dear readers, feedback is always welcome. Sending you lots of love.

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[miraculousmultifan]

The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.

So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.

It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.

Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.

Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?

Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”

Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.

Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.

Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”

Steve blinked. “Huh?”

Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”

“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”

Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.

“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”

Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”

Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”

Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”

That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”

And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.

“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”

Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”

Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”

“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”

Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”

Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”

Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.

Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.

#mira writes #post-season 2 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x steve #drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #st

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.

It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.

Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.

Today was the same as every other day.

Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.

And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.

Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.

Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.

If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.

“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”

Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.

“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”

“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”

They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.

“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.

Steve stopped.

“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”

Eddie sighed.

“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”

Eddie nodded solemnly.

“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.

“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”

Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.

“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”

“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”

“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.

“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”

Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.

“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”

“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”

“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”

Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.

“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.

“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.

“A person?” asked Eddie.

Steve gulped, and nodded.

“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”

Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.

Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.

“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.

“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.

Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?

“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.

“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.

“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.

“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”

“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.

Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.

“To make someone happy,” he said.

“Like…” whispered Steve.

Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.

“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.

Steve hummed.

“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #seth writes #steve harrington’s birthday

[biniminisblog]

nonchalant bf | kim seungmin drabble

pairing: kim seungmin x reader

synopsis: seungmin as your boyfriend who just wants to cuddle but is too shy to say it.

genre: established relationship, fluff

word count: 0.8k

a/n: writer’s block is a bitch so i decided to finish up this seungmin drabble. anw live laugh seungmin

seungmin was never big on affection, especially with physical touch. it’s not that he was uncomfortable, per say, he just didn’t see the appeal in it. sure, he wouldn’t mind holding hands with you or kissing your cheek goodbye, but he would much rather show his love through acts of service.

you seem to agree with him too as you only ever hug or kiss him occasionally. so imagine his surprise when he caught himself suddenly longing for your touch during a random friday night.

it was one of your weekly movie nights where you both watch the cheesiest romance movies you could possibly find on the internet and make fun of it. it was nothing special, really.

except you were looking extra adorable tonight with the blanket wrapped tightly around your body that seungmin couldn’t help but stare. are you wearing makeup? is it because of the hoodie you stole from him earlier that makes you look so small he wants to absolutely cuddle you to death? or are you doing this on purpose just to drive him insane?

“oh my god they’re so stupid! it’s so obvious they like each other— ugh why do they keep denying it?” you huff in annoyance, cheeks puffed out in the process. this snaps seungmin out of his delusional thoughts of you and he glances at you, watching as you angrily cuss out the main characters on the screen. he so badly wants to pinch your cheek, maybe even kiss you. if only he was bold enough to do so. you would definitely think something was wrong with him if he did that. yes you were dating but seungmin was always known to not be the first one to initiate physical touch, he wasn’t about to ruin his reputation now.

you don’t notice that your boyfriend was not paying attention to the movie anymore, but you do notice his lack of response to your comment. you shift your head to face him, only to see that he was already staring intensely at you. you’ve never seen seungmin stare at you so intently that it’s making you nervous, already feeling the heat rise up to your neck.

“uhm—min are you alright?” always with that damn nickname. seungmin felt his heart skip a bit, and he quickly looked away from you, not wanting you to witness his flushed cheeks.

he was sure you caught a glimpse of it regardless, but luckily for him (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it), you are about as dense as a rock when it comes to him. thinking back to all the times you’ve unknowingly made him flustered, he felt that it was unfair that you had such an effect on him, yet you seem to be already used to his presence.

all of a sudden the little space that was between you both vanished, as if there had been no gap in the first place. seungmin grabs the blanket you had wrapped around you and places it around him as well, making it so you are now sharing it. this startles you. you’ve cuddled before, as rarely enough as it is, but this was different. a good kind of different because this time, it was him who did the first move.

you know he’s not fond of physical affection, so you welcome this rare opportunity of him being intimate with literal open arms and slowly wrap them around his waist.

“is something wrong, min?” you ask gently. the shitty movie is no longer a source of entertainment but rather just background noise now as you bury your face further on seungmin’s shirt.

he hopes you don’t notice the abrupt increase of his heart rate just because of that one simple action.

seungmin clears his throat, feeling shy despite the fact that he should be used to this now. “nothing’s wrong. i was just a little cold, don’t worry.”

”oh? then you should've said so earlier! i was hogging the blanket all by myself.” your eyes held guilt and although he felt bad for lying, he couldn’t control the slight giggle he let out. you were just too cute in his eyes.

”you looked like a perfectly shaped burrito, i didn’t want to ruin it.” seungmin teases, pinching your cheek as your frown deepens even further, but your eyes no longer carry guilt in them. instead they soften as you continue to hold eye contact.

you realise then how long his bangs have gotten, with it almost covering his eyes. so you reach over to move it away, before swiftly stealing a kiss in the process.

you pull away giggling and quickly went back to rest your head on his chest. you weren’t able to see seungmin’s expression, but knowing him, in spite of his nonchalant attitude, you were sure it had affected him.

and you were right. as soon as it registered in his brain what happened, seungmin felt the warmth in his cheeks spread all the way to his ears. he had not expected it at all. this was like his first date with you all over again.

”i know you just wanted to cuddle, but since you’re so cute i’ll let it slide.”

seungmin was never one for physical affection, but he thinks he could get used to this.

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fic #kim seungmin fic #kim seungmin oneshot #kim seungmin headcanon #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin imagines #stray kids kim seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin #seungmin oneshot #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #skz seungmin #skz fic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids seungmin #skz drabbles #kim seungmin drabbles #seungmin drabbles #stray kids drabbles

[tender-rosiey]

aww nanami’s daughter who’s very possessive of her mama is so cute she definitely got it from her dad need more of her

sneaky lovey — nanami kento x f!reader

your daughter was kind of mischievous. you don’t know where did she get it from, but you have a feeling that it’s from her uncle gojo whom she has spent a lot of her weekends with.

it’s cute really, especially when she seems to be driving her dad crazy with her little pranks. after all of that, he still loves her, of course, but he hopes that she would understand that his stress levels don’t need to be any higher.

he also hopes that she learns how to share, especially share your attention and affection.

nanami is a mature man, so he can’t help but let her hog you all to herself whenever she goes, “daddy! I want mommy! that’s enough time for you.”

and who is he to deny her your love?

but in the end, he still is a man who is so very in love you and naturally craves your attention as well.

that leads to you guys to trying to sneak a few kisses here and there along with a bunch of hugs like a couple of teenagers in love.

you find it funny.

the way that your husband awaits any moment that your daughter isn’t there to press a kiss to your lips and have his arms around you.

he looks like a baby that had his toy taken away for way too long and it is so cute. you don’t mind voicing that out and you laugh softly when he sighs about how he just wants time with you.

on the other hand, he doesn’t find it funny.

one moment, he is kissing you and the other you’re being dragged by your daughter to draw with her.

she can not for the life of her let her dad get a second with his beautiful wife.

another example is when one day, you had sent her to her uncle gojo cause she had missed him.

nanami was low-key over the moon and refused to leave your side, leaving kisses on your hand, cheek, and forehead whenever given the chance.

“kento, you’re pretty affectionate today.”

“mm, just missed you, love.”

it was utter bliss, especially when you guys got to cuddling and reading a book together.

and don’t get him wrong, he loves his daughter very much, but he also loves you and it was finally his y/n time.

he enjoyed while it lasted which wasn’t enough to him but like nanami you spent at least 9 hours together what.

the little miss stole you for herself the moment she came home.

she also invited you both for tea in her little toy house, but had nanami put on make up, a crown, and a skirt and go drink tea alone in a corner.

when he asked her why, she just went, “you’re supposed to be the pretty maid so wait until you get ‘i am becoming a princess’ arc.”

the arc never came.

another thing is that nanami finds it bizarre that you wonder where the hell did her mischief come from.

there is no way that it isn’t innate and it is obvious when he looks at both of you, particularly right now.

these smirks and puffed out chests of pride and your shared giggles are full-proof. you had just done a harmless prank on your poor husband and he just stared at you both, unable to form a response to this bullying anymore.

“(d/n), i need to talk to mommy about something so that okay?”

“oh okay! good luck, mommy!”

oh that traitor. probably learned it from uncle gojo.

“y/n.”

“yes, my dear and handsome husband?” you say in hopes in flattering him.

he gets up and stands right in front of you. he looks at you, “what was so funny about putting a gojo-patterned tie in my closet?”

you nearly bend over laughing when you recall what you did, but you compose yourself.

your husband isn’t pleased.

“you will have to repay me for that,” he says and you pout.

“how exactly will I do that, my lovely kento?”

he takes a hold of your hand and takes you to the bedroom with a smile, “an uninterrupted night with me.”

you chuckle and ask, “cuddles and kisses?”

“and more if you want; I am all yours.”

in the end, nanami feels and knows that he will never want you guys to stop how you fill his life with colors and laughter.

“haha! dad, I drew on your face!”

or maybe he wishes it would be toned down a bit.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will bite you

#nanami headcanons #nanami x y/n #nanami imagine #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk nanami #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines