#I just think (while the easter egg they had for her was fun)

[thankchaosforspellcheck]

Post ROTTMNT season 2 au where Mikey overhears Splinter talking about his past relationship with Big Mama with Leo and like wishing that his last real romance hadn't ended on such a bad note.

Mikey decides to Do Something About This.

But instead of trying to redeem Big Mama (which he's still TOTALLY planning on doing, just not now) he reasons that what Splinter REALLY needs is to Get His Mojo Back!

SO he decides to set him up on a series of blind dates in the Hidden City.

All of these dates are of course ruined in a myriad of horrible and hilarious ways; the waiter trips into the table, the boys (who are spying on this) not-so-accidentally drive the date off, at least one date is so terrible that they drive SPLINTER off, etc.

This all accumulates with Splinter being even more depressed than he was before the dates, sad and outside the restaurant in the rain.

Only for an umbrella to suddenly block the rain, and a charming Yokai woman about Splinter's age holds out a hand.

They go to a nearby bar and start talking, it turns out she's a former actress who used to star in action flicks on the surface with a cloaking broach she rented out, so they have plenty in common.

They both have a grand old time, laughing and chatting about their glory days, never going to in depth to preserve that magic.

At the end of the night they part ways, but the yokai leaves a card with Splinter saying he can call her again sometime, maybe they can go out sometime.

The card is simple, elegant, and has in bold, curly letters her name:

Tang Shen

[softspiderling]

god, it's brutal out here | r.c.

summary:

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: mention of c*caine

word count: 5,4k

author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I Wheezie

“Hey Wheeze.”

You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.

“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”

Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.

“Nice to see you too.”

The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.

“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”

“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.

“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”

You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”

“Bullshit!”

“Wheezie!”

Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.

“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”

“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”

“I still don’t understand why.”

“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”

Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”

“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.

“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”

“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”

Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”

“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”

“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”

Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.

Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?

Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good

Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.

Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.

Rafe [01/05/23: 9:56 pm]: are you really not gonna text me back?

Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you

Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.

Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone

You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.

Just incase.

II Barry

“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.

“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”

Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.

Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.

“You good?”

Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.

“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”

“Work, or…?”

Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.

Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”

Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.

“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”

“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.

Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”

“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”

“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”

Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.

“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Boy, sit down.”

Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.

“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”

“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”

Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”

“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”

“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.

“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”

“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.

Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”

“Do you mean Wednesday?”

“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”

“Bex makes me happy.”

Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.

He wasn’t even convinced himself.

III Topper

top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come

mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know

—— NEW MESSAGE ——

top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?

It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no

Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca

top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying

Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.

mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten

top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3

Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.

“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.

You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”

“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”

Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.

“What did you say?”

“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”

You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.

“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”

Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.

“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”

“What?”

You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.

“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”

“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”

“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”

Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.

“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.

“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”

You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.

“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”

You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.

“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.

Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?

“It’s been six months.”

Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.

“… Do you think you guys will get back together?”

“He has a girlfriend, Top.”

“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.

IV Kelce

“Kelce!”

Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.

“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.

“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.

“Cheers to you.”

The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.

“Rebecca here?”

“Yeah, upstairs.”

Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.

“You know she’s here, too, right?”

Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.

“I figured, yeah.”

“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.

“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.

Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.

“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”

“Maybe next time.”

Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.

“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”

He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.

“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.

V Sarah

“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”

You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.

“I don’t have a problem with her.”

Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.

“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”

You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”

“Hello?? That was super freaky.”

“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”

Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”

“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”

“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”

You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.

“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like you hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.

You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.

“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”

Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.

“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”

“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”

“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.

You only sighed, starting your car in silence.

“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.

“Yes.”

BONUS + I Rafe

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.

“Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that.”

Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.

If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.

“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”

“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”

Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.

“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”

Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.

“Do you love her?”

Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”

“See. Problem solved.”

Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.

“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”

“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”

“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”

BONUS + II You

You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.

For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.

The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?

God, you shouldn’t be doing this.

“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.

“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”

You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.

“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”

The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”

You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.

“You’re still worried about me.”

You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”

“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”

“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”

Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.

“Rafe.”

Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”

“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.

“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”

“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”

“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”

“What?!”

Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”

Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.

“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”

“Rafe…”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all to familiar.

“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.

“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”

Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.

“Rafe, I don’t know… “

“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”

You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Why? Because you do?”

“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”

Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”

You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.

Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]

Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.

Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!

Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!

Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?

[romanarose]

I Miss You, Mr. Miller

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Joel makes you WET wet.

AKA

There's a pun here about eggs somewhere.

Warnings: Masturbating, sex toys, body worship, "little bunny", joel making sure reader knows he's old man, degrading, almost getting caught.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Drinks and celebrates Christian holidays, not is christian but like family and culturally. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap but reader is 21+. Mentions of church.

A/N: Part of the DBF!Joel Holiday fuck series but you don't gotta read the previous part. I missed Easter OOPS so now we get a flashback.

1.3k words

You liked to start off slow, take your time with yourself. Hands, gliding over your shirt, feeling your body all the way down to your thighs. You learned this from Joel.

Sure a quickie was fun, especially under the threat of being caught, but Joel preferred to take his time with you. Likewise, you started to mimic this when masturbating. Joel you could, theoretically, take the vibe to your clit, put on some Gone Wild Audio and git’er done, but why? Why not show your body the appreciation it deserved. You were beautiful. You were sexy. Joel wasn’t the only one who could enjoy it.

Joel knelt before your spread legs, hands running up and down your pretty little Easter dress. Your dad had invited Joel over for Easter dinner, and you’d stayed in your dress all day to make sure he saw you in it. Joel was certain to show his appreciation.

“Such a pretty dress… such a pretty little bunny…” His fingers tweaked your nipples as he eyed you. “M one lucky old man.”

You giggle. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel hummed. He loved when you called him that. Today, he’d had to hide the bonner he was sporting after you greeted him as Mr. Miller in your cute dress, hair all done up… he couldn’t stop thinking how he’d railed you in the church bathroom after Good Friday services… dirty, dirty girl.

Your hand skimmed over your clit at the memory… you might not need any porn this time, you were so turned on, so sensitive… you whimper at the first touch. Cupping your breasts, you try to get the feeling Joel gave when he touched them, but it wasn’t the same. Joel’s hands were large, rough, sure… Still, it felt good touching such sensitive parts of your body, and you sigh. You remember how much Joel praised you on Easter, touch yourself to the echo of his voice.

“Darling, beautiful girl… just look at you, cock dumb girl begging to be fucked with her dad downstairs… surrounded by teddies and pink frilly pillows… act’n like such a good girl, but you ain’t, are yuh?”

“Joooooel” You whine under his touch. “No, I’m a good girl…”

“Nuh-uh” Joel rips open your white tights to find you bare. “Good girls wear underwear to church.” he runs two fingers up your slicked up cunt. “Good girls don’t get wet for grumpy old men.”

You plunge two fingers into your core quickly dissatisfied so you add another. That makes you moan. You begin to pump them in and out of yourself, nowhere near as thick and god, not hitting close to how deep Joel hits you, when he fucks you raw. It’s wholly unsatisfying, but you were just getting started.

Joel finger fucked you, his two middle fingers pumping you at a rapid pace. “Naughty, naughty girl, little cunt clenching on my fingers… I can feel how tight you're getting, but you can’t cum yet… you wanna behave, don’t you? Or are you just as bad as I thought you were… Jesus Christ darl’n, can’t wait to get my cock up my bunny girl's guts again, shit, ‘m gonna miss you.”

Sarah was graduating college next year, and Joel was taking her on a road trip for a few weeks to tour colleges. Tommy had joked, saying he could ‘take care of yuh’ while he’s gone but Joel smacked him upside the head.

“Joel” you whimper. “I think… fuck… I think I’m gonna pee” 

Instead of getting off you, Joel grinned. “Keep hold’n, baby… Ima take care of you.”

You stuff your cunt full of four fingers, just trying to get a taste of what Joel left you with, a bit of that memory. Chanting his name, ‘Joel, Joel, Joel’ You chase that high that’s starting to build in your stomach. You remember how he fingered you, how he kissed your neck, arms, stomach, legs, every single inch of your body he loved so much.

“Joel!” You try to warn him again, but he’s not listening. Instead, he brings his face close to your dripping hole. 

“Let it go, sweet bunny, let go.”

Fuck. He edged you for 20 minutes, even as your mom walked past your door gossiping on the phone about Mrs. McKenzie’s nose ring. You’d warned him, now he’d deal with the consequences. Can’t be as bad as when you’d thrown up on him after St. Patrick's Day.

But when you let go, you cum. It’s hard, liquid shooting out of your body but it didn’t feel like pee. Your legs shake, body seizing up in shock from the sheer force of your orgasm. Joel laps it up, hungrily devouring your, drinking you up like you were communion wine. 

Vibrator on your clit, you remember how Joel ate you out as you came, grinding his hips against the bed, small little moans escaping his pretty little mouth, he bucked and licked and humped and sucked, growling when you stopped and eating you out until you came again, desperately biting your lip to not scream his name. Here in your apartment, in your own bed that Joel carried up here on Presidents Day, you could scream if you wanted to. And you did. Your orgasm hitting you, you keep the vibrator to the exact pressure it was at and ride out your orgasm wishing it was on Joel’s face.

Joel kissed you, his soaking wet face and beard all over yours as you lay there in shock, completely spent from the orgasm. 

“What…” You pant. “Was that…” 

Joel couldn’t keep his mouth off your skin very long, only barely managing to mumble that you squirted. “Such a good girl, oh my god, I was wrong, you’re just, fuuuuck, such a good fuck’n girl…”

You smile against him. “You gonna fuck me or what, Mr. Miller?”

Joel ground his crotch against yours. Wet. “Your little stunt make me cum in my pants like I’m a fuck’n teenager again, yuh lil brat.” He flicked a tit playfully.

Once every last bit of pleasure was exhausted, when you had cum your hear out to the thought of Joel fucking Miller between your legs, loudly and proudly. You sit up and smile at the phone at you pillow, still recording. You make sure to save the voice note in messenger, then cue it up to send it to Joel.

Sweet Thing: Use headphones, don’t open around Sarah ;)

*Send* You fall back on your bed, smiling.

“Joel?” Your dad called along with your name, making you startle. “I know you’re in there!”

You look to Joel in a panic, eyes wide and scared. Not scared of your dad, perse, he was good natured. Scared of disappointing him.

Your dad again. “Your boots are still at the door and it’s too muddy to go outside without em, open the damn door.”

Joel turned to you, whispering. “I’ll take the fall, it was my idea.”

You and Joel both stand, looking more proper. Joel’s black pants covered the fact he came in them, and your dress covered your ripped tights“Joel, no-” But he cut you off with a stern look.

“Ima take care of you, darl’n, understand?”

You nod. Joel unlocks the door and your dad steps in, arms crossed. “I know what you two are doing.”

Joel steps forward. “Listen man, it ain’t her fault.”

Your dad held out a hand. “Hey, I don’t care if you guys smoke weed together.”

You blink. He thought you were sneaking off together for a blunt? “Oh… you don’t?” You don’t smoke weed. Joel does, but you never found much interest. 

“Nah,” He waved his hand. “Just do it behind the garage, okay? It ain’t legal here yet. The neighbors can see your window from here.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Right, right, thanks man.”

“Thanks dad, sorry.”

Your dad chuckled. “I’m the cool dad, remember!”

 Your dad was absolutely not cool, but he was fun. A good dad. And you and Joel dodged a bullet, but you needed to be more careful. You run off to pretend to smoke a blunt.

SORRY IM LATE YALL LMFAOOOOO

Lum to me: Are you not doing the holiday Joel series anymore ;-;?

Me: Did I miss a holiday?

YEAH JUST EASTER I GUESS

I relayed this story to Clem and said "not my fault, I don't celebrate easter anyway, Jesus means nothing to Jews"

Clem "DIDN"T YOU CELEBRATE EASTER FOR A CHUNK OF YOUR LIFE?"

She's right! but she didn't have to say it :((((((( lmfaooooo

Anyway I did a new chapter of this AND and new Room's on fire so, y'all'er welcome XD

Check out my upcoming pride event!

hugs!

Im phasing out my taglist, so make sure to follow @romana-updates

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

[scary-lasagna]

Headcanons of slenderman in his office working and his 5 year old daughter comes in and asks him if they could play the 8 pages, and so the daughter reader is giggling while running through the woods and collecting pages while slenderman laughs and playfully chases her and then it just ends super fluffy

i know this was sent in recently and I’m trying to go from old to new but this was so cute i just couldn’t wait

Slender

8 pages is a game he “plays” with his proxies often.

In reality, it’s a game of stealth, aversion, tracking, and other proxy enrichment tasks and activities.

This is where his dear daughter comes in.

Whenever Slender is working, Splendor is always the one to volunteer to baby sit. And he’ll walk her around the manor, sometimes carrying her, to get her out of the play room.

Sometimes Sally will accompany, and sometimes not.

But on a certain day, Splendor took her into the woods to watch how Slender interacted with the proxies. And while they think it’s slightly terrifying to be hunted by their boss, his daughter will only recognize him as her father.

She’ll get slightly startled, but then giggle afterward.

So, the little being meekly waddled up to his desk during his working hours, and presents all 8 pages made by various colors of crayons.

So they look anything like his territorial pages? Absolutely not. But does he love them with all of his heart? Yes. Of course he does.

He thought that was the end of it, but oh not so fast, Mr Dad! You have a game to play.

Since his daughter is so spoiled, and has such a hard time saying no to her, he finds himself being dragged outside by a pudgy hand.

He’ll set them up at child-height for her to find, and explain the simplified rules, which is really just a game of tag and easter egg hunting.

He’ll pop out from behind a tree, squatting close to the ground, and laugh as she squeals and runs away, clutching two pages to her chest.

His daughter is never afraid of getting lost, and neither is he, knowing he’ll always be able to find her.

She will run under logs, and hide in crevices of trees, and be one with nature as all children should be, no matter the species.

And Boo! A pair of hands grab her, and sweep her up as she still clings to her self-made pages. “I’ve got you!”

She can only squeal and choke out a string of belly laughs, too excited to say anything more comprehensible.

But oh dear! Shes slipping away! Right through his hands that are so conveniently close and safe to the ground so his daughter can sprint away at her full speed.

He could easily catch up in a few quick strides, but he wouldn’t dare ruin her fun.

5 pages had been collected before she decided to curl up inside a log, using her jacket as a pillow and the pages as her teddy bear.

Slender collected the rest of the pages himself, and discover his daughter tucked into natures own bed.

He’ll carry her home, tuck her into her own bed topped with a princess canopy she ‘had to have’ after seeing Sally’s, and frame the newly drawn 8 pages in his office.

Maybe when she grows up, he’ll have a teammate in the 8 pages against the proxies.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: so I picked, Ada, Luis, Leon { with bonus aunt Ashley }

•+• Ada Wong •+•

Ada liked Leon, she did really but she didn’t love him,Oh no that was saved for you and her children. The only people that she can confidently say that she deeply cared about.

It was quite easy to spoil her little ones, spoil you. Which is why she may have gone a bit over bored with Easter.

Stepping out of the room you held back a yawn though your eyes went wide seeing the living room stuffed with toys. Two large baskets filled to the brim with goodies and treats. Your head suddenly snapped towards where you spotted Ada.

“Looks who finally up.”

“Ada! You’re home!” A bright smile formed on your face. You did your best not to let the tears fall though your children had other planes. The little ones rushing out to greet their mother.

“Mommy!” “Mommy.”

Bending down, Ada smiled softly as she enveloped her children in her arms.

Opening your mother you wanted to ask when she did this though biting your tongue you shook your head kneeling down next to the three. “It’s gonna be a fun day.”

Reaching out, Ada grasped your wrist gently giving you a smile. She would do anything to keep you three happy.

She didn’t care what it might take.

+•+

•+• Leon S. Kennedy •+•

Bonus: Ashely Graham

Leon loved his kids, loved you. Which is why he was happy to finally have a break from all off this. He was grateful to Ashley for being the one to let him spend time with his family.

Glancing at Ashley, he forced a smile slipping out of the car. The young woman was bouncing in her seat at the prospect of meeting you and the twins again.

She already looked up to you and she couldn’t help but think the twins were adorable.

“You don’t have to do this you know…I mean your dad is president.” Slipping out of the car, Ashley let out a gasp following the man.

“That’s to boring! It’s not like I’m gonna do anything fun! Besides I can watch the twins, maybe help them with an Easter egg hunt while you and Y/n have a little fun!”

Stumbling, Leon felt his cheeks burn for a moment. He wasn’t even sure how to respond to something like that. “Ashley!”

Not getting a chance to respond to him, her head snapped towards where the door opened. Two four year olds rushed out the door as you followed right behind them, you’d hand ok your growing belly.

Leon chuckled softly as he took the twins in his arms, giving you a soft smile. “How are you feeling!”

“You didn’t tell me she was pregnant Leon!”Ashley rushed over to you, her hand on your stomach. “Ah I felt the baby kick.”

Clearing out his throat, Ashley’s eyes went wide though a snort escaped her lips seeing that one of the children placed bunny ears on top of his head.

Hugging his children close, he stood up adjusting the ears. “Not a word out of either of you.” Forcing a smile he stood up smiling. “Now let’s go open some baskets.”

+•+

•+• Luis Serra •+•

“Ahh papa! Look at what the Easter bunny brought me.”

Turning his attention to his little girl, Luis chucked softy. Her face was covered in chocolate, and right now he was positive that she wasn’t about get any sleep tonight.

“Ah Conejita! You must be so happy!” Luis ruffled her hair.

The little girl letting out a bright giggle though her eyes went wide as she continues to search her basket for any other goodies.

“You spoil her to much you know.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Luis gave you a teasing smile. His arm wrapping around your waist tugging you close as his lips brushed against yours. “I spoil you to Mi tesoro. You were not complaining this morning.” His voice dipped as he gave you a grin, his hands now resting on your lower back.

“Luis!”

“Papa! What are you and mommy doing?”

Looking away, Luis gave your cheek a pinch as he turned his attention fully to his daughter. “Papa was just making sure mommy is feeling alright…she was quite tired this morning.”

Quickly losing interest in whatever you two might be talking about she turned her attention back to the Easter Basket.

“You’re unreal.” Giving Luis a small smile, you sighed as the baby monitor goes off. “But I love you so that’s all that matters.” You teased pinching his cheek the man let out a playful scoff as you walked off towards your son who was crying.

Watching you leave, Luis stepped closer to His daughter. The man was happy to have a second chance at life and he owed it to Leon.

“Happy Easter Papa!” His daughter gave him a bright smile shoving a chocolate bunny in his face.

Smiling he placed a kiss to her head. “Happy Easter Chiquita.”

[superblysubpar]

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

We'll Call It Love Masterlist | song inspiration

4.8k words | 18+ NSFW

Warnings: *This is a prequel to my series "We'll Call It Love" linked above | reader drinks wine and loves olives on her pizza | swearing | SMUT (PIV intercourse -wrapped before tapped /oral - both receiving and performing/dirty talk/ass slapping)

A/N: While this is a prequel to the series, I think it's actually kind of fun to read this after the first two parts and before the third, little easter eggs and what not. I hope you enjoy this and thanks for your patience in waiting for this story! 💛

“You’re laate,” you sing into your phone, smiling at Argyle across the bar as he motions to your almost empty glass of wine. Spinning on your barstool as you nod and Robin huffs into the phone. 

“I’m so sorry, but Joe was on a terror today and like yes sir god forbid you have raisins in your trail mix and no I did not watch the barista take the temp of your half caf soy bullshit latte because believe it or not I do actually do real work for this company other than wait on your hand and foot and-”

“Robin!” Laughing into the phone and shaking your head. Your own chest hurts from her lack of ending a sentence. “Take a deep breath. I’m just joking, I already ordered the pizza and…” trailing off as she becomes far too quiet on the other end, “You’re not coming at all, are you?”

Your new friend groans, “I’m so, so, so, sorry. I promise I’m not normally this flakey, but like I cannot afford to lose this job and I have that date tomorrow so if I leave now I may as well go and buy a plot at the cemetery because-”

“Oh my god,” laughing at her dramatic flare, you smile at Argyle as he sets your refilled glass back in front of you. “Stop, you’re fine. I’m more than content to just hang here at the bar. There’s a game tonight, besides, Argyle can keep me company.”

Batting your eyelashes at him, he winks and Robin laughs on the other side of the phone but it quickly turns to another groan. “Please get extra olives on the pizza for me? Dingus hates them and he’s a baby who always gets his way and oh shit,” she whispers into the phone, “Gotta go. Joe is back and asking where his steak is and I forgot to order it. And by forgot I mean he told me he didn’t want steak an hour ago. Please pray for my quick and painless demise. I love you.”

Robin hangs up before you can reply and you slip your phone back into your purse. Leaning onto the counter, you sigh as your chin rests in your palm. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, Argyle.”

He tosses a rag over his shoulder and leans against the wall behind him. “Hot date cancel on you?”

Shrugging, he was no stranger to the guys you’d picked up at that very bar in just the few short weeks you’d been coming there. You take a sip of your wine before admitting, “Nah, just Robin. Although, she is very hot.”

He squints, rubbing at his jaw before snapping, “Super talkative lady right? She’s nice, I like her.”

You laugh into your glass as you nod. “That’s the one.” Looking around the fairly quiet bar, you turn back to him with a fake pout on your lips, fluttering your eyelashes dramatically. “Could I persuade you to put the baseball game on?”

He groans, wiping down a glass, “You know Eden’s rule…”

Leaning forward on your elbows, exaggerating your pout as he trails off. He squints before throwing his head back, blowing out a long exhale, “Man, you’re going down with me if she gets mad.”

Snickering into your wine glass because the other owner is quite…particular about the restaurant. Argyle is the exact laid back balance she needs to run the business or she’d never get anyone in the place - there’s a reason it’s named after him. If it were up to Eden, every guest would need to answer a questionnaire about what music taste they have, toppings on pizza, and if they played sports in high school. Any sort of sports paraphernalia on your person would get you on the sidewalk immediately if she had her way. 

Which is why you’ve learned from Argyle that Eden runs the behind the scenes business side of things, and Argyle gets creative freedom on pizzas and drinks, tending to the customers, and earning the tips he rightfully deserves. He was not let loose on decor however. The pizza bar is decked out in nostalgia from the decades, various band’s vinyls covering the walls, black and white photographs of Eden and Argyle in front of their VW Van across the country. Candlesticks with dripping wax and soft lamps lighting the tables, gold and black accented decor, and a strict aesthetic to be met when it came to the music played and what was shown on TV. 

Making a crossing motion over your chest, “I promise your secret is safe with me, nobody in here will be paying attention, anyways.”

He hums, unconvinced, but pops it on. Rolling his eyes at your grin while making a show of muting the TV and putting subtitles on. 

The bar, aside from your seat, is empty, other patrons snuggled into booths behind you. Argyle brings you out your pizza and keeps your cab at a decent level throughout the first several innings, chatting with you as he gets orders done for others. Despite being bummed to not see Robin, you’re a tad excited to have a quiet night to yourself. You enjoy being able to sit at the bar, drink too much wine, eat the kind of pizza you like and-

“Shit.”

A whisper just over your shoulder has you turning, wine glass half suspended to your lips. 

Your eyes greedily take in the man in front of you. From his worn brown leather boots, up dark black jeans that fit him perfectly, to a striped shirt revealing thick chest hair just above the top button. Swallowing harshly when you spot the gold chain nestled there as your gaze climbs higher over the tanned skin of his neck, dotted with freckles and moles. Several pairings of two that lead you to a jaw lined with slight scruff. Your thighs squeeze together on the bar stool when your eyes finally meet his, a hypnotizing and enticing swirl of honey and moss. 

He runs a hand through his disheveled chestnut locks, causal and airy with his tone after he blows his breath out with a nod to your pizza, “I was about to come over here and throw out an incredibly smooth pick up line that I worked on for the last ten minutes,” his thumb hooking over his shoulder to where he must have been before he continues, “But I see you have olives on your pizza. So. Enjoy your horrible dinner choice.”

Your mouth drops open as he slides down two open chairs from you. He smirks into his bottle of beer as he leans back on the stool, eyes on the screen playing the game. 

Hating that you can’t come up with any sort of comeback, you snap your jaw closed and roll your shoulders back, facing the mounted TV screen as well. 

Watching out of the corner of your eye as he leans forward on the bar, eyes dancing across the screen and his fingers twitching on the bottle. His thumbs wear down the paper label as the home team lets two more runs happen. 

Argyle returns with the cardboard pizza box you asked for and he glances at the screen and you lunge forward, finger pointing in his face, “Aha! So you do like baseball!”

He rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders, “Yeah, sure, when the Cubs are winning.”

You scoff into your wine glass, “Mm, so never.”

The olive hating man next to you groans, his forehead landing on his arms as his voice is muffled against the bar, “You hate the Cubs too? What is wrong with you?”

Your wine glass hits the bar top a little too harshly and Argyle winces, moving it safely from the edge as you turn to the adorable yet infuriating man next to you, “What is wrong with you?! I was having a perfectly normal night and then you came over here and complained about my dinner and my team preference and-”

“I’m sorry, I saw a pretty girl, alone at a bar, watching baseball and I thought I’d shoot my shot. Excuse me for finding the one girl who not only likes my least favorite food but also hates my team?!”

Rolling your eyes, you narrow them at the TV muttering to Argyle, “Why are the cutest ones always obnoxious?”

Olive man grins, catching his glance out of the corner of your eyes. His tone changes, amusement in it as his perfect teeth gleam in the low light. “You think I’m cute?”

Groaning, you rub at your temple and he keeps going, “Cause, you know, I think you’re still pretty, for what it’s worth. Even if you’re an olive loving Cubs hater.”

He sighs when you turn to face the TV again fully, arms crossing over your chest. Hearing his chair scuff against the dark hardwood beneath it, you’re a little disappointed he gave up so easily. But then, you watch Argyle smile down at the ground as a tapping happens on your shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you practically growl as you turn around to see olive man standing there. “What?”

He extends his hand, leaning on the bar next to you, “Hi, I’m Steve. While I think your choice in pizza toppings is horrendous, I’m willing to look past this fact and your denial of rooting for an excellent baseball team because you’re super cute and I’d love to buy you a drink, maybe walk you home, could even kiss you goodnight.” He smirks as you look down at his hand, and he raises his eyebrows, waiting.

You laugh, because you can’t help it, there’s just something about him. Call it a cosmic connection, who knows. He’s cute, smooth, and able to make you laugh which is saying a lot considering what you’ve been dealt lately. Slipping your hand into his, you try not to focus on how it engulfs yours or how long his fingers are as you introduce yourself. 

“Very nice to meet you. And, great choice, by the way,” hand still holding yours, he leans forward, his mouth hovering just over your lips. Mint and beer hitting you and making you dizzy as he whispers, “The cutest ones are always the best kissers too.”

That’s how you ended up kissing him in your lobby, up the entire flight of stairs, taking a break to push you against the wall, back arching over the railing as his palms pressed flat to the brick on the side of your head. Breaking apart only when the door at the bottom creaks loudly and rudely interrupts you. Steve’s lips stay on you as you bump and fumble your way to your door, hot and quick gasps for breath against your lips as his fingers dig into your hips. Moaning into your mouth as you yank on the back of his hair a little harshly. 

“Keys,” breathing into him, nipping at his top lip as he pushed you into your door. 

Steve nods and you laugh, pushing on his chest so you can focus. Only spurring him on, his lips find purchase on your neck instead. He smirks into your skin at the little yelp you make at the feeling of his teeth grazing under your ear. Thighs growing sticky from his raspy tone as his nose skims over the shell of your ear, following the curve. “Keys?”

Your back arches, neck extending as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress. Eyelashes fluttering and mouth parting as his nose and lips drag down your neck. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, as you laugh breathlessly, “Yeah, you know. Those things that…fuck,” Steve’s mouth is back on your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as his knee slots itself between your legs and you sigh. Fingers dragging down his collar and into his chest hair as you continue, “Unlock doors?”

He hums into your jaw, smiling at the way your hips roll, searching for friction on his thigh and he pulls away, hands on either side of your head again. His eyes sparkle in the low light of your hallway, his lips twitching up on one side before he speaks, “So unlock the door. What’re you waiting on?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as your fingers pull the keys out of your purse slowly. Batting your eyelashes as you try to gain the upperhand again, “What’s the matter, Steve? Growing a little impatient?”

Steve’s eyes narrow playfully, he brushes a finger across your cheek, tracing it down your jaw. Soft and sweet in contrast to the way you were just making out. He leans in, lips hovering over yours as your eyes slowly fall closed, waiting for another kiss. 

That’s when his hands are on your hips again, rocking you over his thigh and you know you’re leaving a damp spot, whining into the air between your lips at his teasing. You aren’t winning this one, and you don’t really care. 

“God, fuck, I-” your brain is actually short circuiting from the way his nose brushes up yours, at the scruff of his jaw on your skin, his eyes darting down to watch the way you use his thigh shamelessly. 

Steve suddenly removes his leg, eyes growing dark at the pout your lips form, at the needy sigh that comes from your chest and huffs out of your nose. He smiles, voice a whisper and a warm breath across your cheek. Throwing your teasing right back at you, “What’s the matter? Growing impatient?”

Rolling your eyes, you spin, quickly unlocking the door and pushing inside. Steve can’t help himself it seems, hands on you immediately again. Keys and purse thrown somewhere to be dealt with later, he pushes you up against the door, his chest to your back as his nose brushes behind your ear. 

Your fingers search for purchase on the wood, back arching into him as he leaves a trail of kisses on your neck to your shoulder, his hand slowly pulling the zipper of your dress down. 

“Be-bedroom?” you gasp out as he spins you to face him, his eyes roaming over your body. His fingers gliding over the band of your underwear and snapping it, making your thighs push together. 

Steve only nods, lips dragging down your chest and stomach as he drops to his knees, “We’ll get there. Just need to taste you right now.”

“Oh, I…oh,” Your head hits back against the door behind you as his nose drags over your clothed slit. 

His fingers pull your underwear down and yours fall into his hair as his tongue licks a long stripe through you. Steve gently pushes your legs apart further, hooking them over his shoulders as his tongue swirls around your clit. Hands holding your ass, he pulls you closer to his mouth forcefully. Moaning into you as his nose glides through you, parting your lips before his mouth returns to them. Your fingers tug in his hair as you glance down at the way he’s devouring you like a man starved. Pleasantly surprised since most guys don’t even offer to go down on you during a hookup, and they definitely don’t find your clit the way Steve found it. 

His tongue prods at your entrance, teasing it before licking back up to your swollen nerves, sucking the sensitive bead between his lips. Your thighs are already shaking around his head, whines falling from you between curses and his name. 

Steve’s fingers slip through you while his tongue works at your clit under the vacuum of his lips. He pushes one finger into your entrance, squeezing at your hip when you whine. Quick to slip a second digit into you, they swirl easily, curling forward in a motion that makes you moan loudly, hand slapping over your mouth. 

He breaks away, only for a second and shakes his head no. Kissing your thigh quickly and tapping his fingers on your waist, “Come on, don’t be shy now. Wanna hear you.”

Mouth back on your clit, fingers pumping into you at a pace that matches the swirl and flick of his tongue, your hand falls back to his hair, pulling yourself closer to his face desperately. Steve nods into you, pace picking up until you’re whining loudly again. Heat radiates through your body until your thighs are squeezing on the side of his head, releasing over his tongue and fingers as your mouth falls open in a gasp, eyes pinching shut. 

Steve takes everything you’re giving him, slowly pulling his mouth and fingers away from you as yours relax in his hair. The sight between your thighs makes your arousal flutter again already. Stomach filling with warmth at the sight of his pink and glossy lips, rosy cheeks and rumpled hair. 

He smirks at you, shaking his head before sighing dramatically. “God, how can someone who tastes so sweet,” he pulls you closer to him again, kissing your thighs before continuing, “Like olives on her pizza?”

Your laugh bursts out of you, head hitting the door again, “Oh my god, shut up.”

Steve’s fingers flex on your hips, lips dragging across the plush skin of your thigh. Eyes glinting with a dare. “Make me.”

Moving to let your legs fall and do just that, he quickly grips you harder, standing. You yelp, grabbing onto his hair, your head almost hitting the ceiling. He lets your body drag down his, torturously slow like a scene straight out of Dirty Dancing, until his hands are under your butt, legs wrapping around him and your faces are close together. He’s grinning widely, tongue licking over the top row of white gleaming at you, breathless as he asks, “Bedroom?” 

You point wordlessly, swallowing at the way his muscles flex around you and the warmth of his fingertips on your spine. Your lips attack his again as he lays you on the bed. Your arms fall around his neck, pulling him to fall across you. The muscles in his forearms dance on either side of your head as he grinds against you. The denim of his jeans a welcomed friction on your sensitive cunt and you gasp into his mouth. 

It’s a flurry of wet lips over hot skin, clothes thrown to places neither of you care to pay attention to. Bodies sliding together, his swollen tip catching on your clit and you bite down on his lip at the feeling, fingers pressing crescent moons into the tight muscles of his shoulder blades. You roll, landing on top of him and working your way down his body. Lips kissing at every freckle and mole you find along his chest and abs. Nose dragging across his hips, you smile when he shivers underneath you. 

Your tongue licks up his length, tracing the curve of the vein, swirling around the tip. Pulling the mushroom head between your lips, Steve’s hips jerk as your tongue flicks at the pre-cum spilling out of him already. His fingers twist in your comforter, a strangled noise from his throat as your head sinks lower, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper. You glance up under your fluttering lashes to find him looking down at you, wrecked, eyes wild as his tip hits the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips around him.

“Fuck, fuck. Condom? Do you have a condom?” He gasps, pulling his hips down, his cock falling from your mouth as you nod to your dresser. 

Steve’s quick to slip it on as you straddle him, fingers dragging through his chest hair. He sits up, arms circling your waist and yanking you down closer, pulling a laugh from you. His teeth nip at your neck, voice raspy as he asks, “What do you want? Tell me what you like.”

Taken aback by his question, your hook ups are rarely able to make you laugh, orgasm, and be attentive. He slides between your folds, letting you hover over him and you pull your lip between your teeth as he sucks a bruise under your ear. 

“This is…is good,” you gasp out as he pushes at your entrance. 

Steve nods, guiding you to sink down onto his length, fingers squeezing at your waist as your mouth parts in a gasp, yours gripping at his shoulders. 

You press your face into his neck, whining as you slip further down, taking him fully and you both groan as you circle your hips. 

“Shit, take me so well, honey, that’s it,” Steve’s babbling, hands roaming up your back as his lips kiss over your chest and neck. 

Your hips circle again, slowly lifting yourself up and sinking back down on him. His nose presses into your cheek, breath huffing along your jaw as he whines your name and you flutter around him. The slow drag of his cock along your walls not enough and too much all at once. 

“Steve, I-” your chest is tight, familiar heat growing rapidly in your stomach and he holds you, pushing you down into the mattress, his weight falling on top of you. 

Steve curses softly, pulling out of you and thrusting back in with a force that makes you both gasp around each other’s lips. It’s a dirty glide, sweat slicked bodies grinding together, moans lost in each other’s mouths. The sound of your hips meeting and your arousal filling your room  drown out the way you practically plead his name. Each thrust into you feels like he’s knocking the air from your lungs and filling them at the same time. Coarse hair hitting your clit with each roll of his hips, his lips hover over yours as you throw your head back into the mattress. Your hands cling to his back, nails scratching down it as each powerful thrust shoots you higher and higher. Your eyelids flutter, you’re pretty sure you’re actually losing oxygen, leaving the atmosphere. 

Steve’s name leaves your lips in a strangled gasp and he pants into your parting mouth, “Yeah? Gonna cum for me baby?”

Nodding, babbling nonsense to him, he nips at your bottom lip as your eyes squeeze shut. Your vision fills with stars, heat filling your belly as your walls clench around him as his thrusts only pick up their pace. 

“Yeah?” His tone is mocking now into your lips, you can feel his smile against them. Your eyelids flutter, you’re whimpering, feeling like you’re on another planet, floating aimlessly through space. His thrusts stop suddenly and he sucks on your bottom lip before asking, “How about another one?”

Before you can comprehend the question, he’s pulling out and flipping you. Your stomach somersaults at the way he handles you so easily, almost lazy in how he can manhandle you. His palm rests against your lower back, your cheek pressed into the pillows. Steve groans as your legs spread for him. His hand comes down on the curve of your ass in a slap, not painfully. He cups it as you jolt forward and he curses under his breath. 

He’s not quick about it, letting his tip drag through you and you shiver. Not pushing in until you’re begging him, “Steve, please…”

Who the hell is this guy? How does he have you begging for a third orgasm?

He slips into you, your strangled cry of relief mixing with his moan. 

“Only cause you asked so nicely, pretty girl.”

Your comforter twists in your fists as his thrusts quickly turn to a brutal pace. Steve’s grip on you is bruising as you arch lower for him, spreading as wide as you can, chest heaving into the mattress. Steve’s lips trail down your spine, the cold metal of his chain dragging with them. 

He falls forward, his chest against your back, hips stuttering as his hand reaches around and rubs fast and messy circles into your clit. Your name leaves his lips against your ear as his thrusts try to match the pace of his fingers. 

You’re weightless, body buzzing, vibrating like you’re waiting for take off. Steve’s gasping as shooting stars dance across your closed eyelids. Your walls clench around him, sucking him in and he swears, asking you to cum please. You’re certain the entire galaxy just exploded inside of you as his hips thrust quickly, falter, and slow while your name leaves him in a breathless gasp and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. 

Steve rolls off of you, your chests heaving in tandem as you both stare at your ceiling. 

“That was…” Steve’s hand drags down his cheek, laughing a little. 

“Yeah?” Your lip pulls between your teeth as you try to fight your smile. 

It’s quiet for a second before he clears his throat, voice a whisper, “Yeah.”

Normally, a guy would be out your door by now. They got what they came for, and regardless of if you had a great time, you’re happy to see them go. This feels different, you’re a little hopeful for the first time in awhile. Wondering if you could do all of that again in the very near future. 

“Um…” Steve coughs, voice trailing off as you turn your head. His hand runs through his hair as he squints at your ceiling, lips pursed in thought. Your eyes track the veins and lines of muscle in his arm up to his armpit and shoulder. To the sharp line of his jaw and nose. You feel ridiculous that your thighs already push together from want after all of that. Body heating up with embarrassment, you quickly snap your head back, eyes on your ceiling once more. 

He finally sits up and questions, “Bathroom?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Right through there.” You point as you sit up as well. Your fingers cover your lips as you take in the angry red lines from your fingernails that contrast against the tan skin of his back. Head tilting as you watch him stand, smile hiding behind your hand as you watch his butt walk away. 

Steve looks over his shoulder, squinting as his own smile tugs at his lips. He tries to cover himself up and whispers dramatically, “Wow. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Would if I could,” your laugh escapes you, your grin finally winning as your hand drops and he closes the door. 

Steve finds you dressed in sleep shorts and a band tee, chugging a glass of water in your kitchen a few minutes later. You extend it to him, noticing he’s fully dressed with his shoes in his hand. He takes a sip before setting it down, knuckles tapping on your countertop before blowing out a long breath. 

Your lips twitch as you try to fight the smile that seems to be a permanent feature around him as he looks around frantically, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Um…I guess…I should…” he trails off, watching you. 

Your arms cross over your chest, barefeet overlapping each other as you nod, “Right, yeah. That was…”

He smirks, nodding as you trail off. “Yeah, it was.”

Steve goes to leave, but spins, licking his lips before rushing out, “Listen. Could we do that again sometime? Maybe I could get your number?”

The cocky and smooth man who you met at the bar, the one who just took you to outer space seems to have disappeared. The blush in his cheeks darkens, lips parted as he seems to hold his breath waiting for your response. 

Nodding, you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you try not to grin while acting indifferent. “Sure, yeah.”

An awkward shuffle of him pulling his phone out and you typing your number in before handing it back to him. 

You’re startled when there’s a soft press of his smooth lips against the apple of your cheek. Warm breath hitting your jaw as he whispers, “Have a good night.”

“You…you too.”

Your hand touches where he kissed as he leaves, unsure if you’ve ever been kissed on your cheek like that before. 

Only two minutes later, tucked back in your bed when your phone buzzes. 

You bite your lip as you pull the comforter up over your chin, typing back for it only to buzz with a response immediately.

Laughing as you roll onto your stomach, it flips when you inhale the scent of his cologne that clings to your sheets. It takes a minute for him to respond again, your eyelids growing heavy when the phone buzzes finally.

Huffing into your pillow, the smile that sits there is a welcomed friend as you message him goodnight and save his number in your contacts.  Rocketman seems fitting for an idiot who takes you to outer space three times in one night. 

Even if he does hate olives. 

WCIL taglist: (I just used the series taglist for this, hope that's okay!)

@boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3x3

[rhoorl]

Strike a Pose

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC Vanessa (Delta Landscaping Universe)

Word Count: 3.3k | AO3 Link

Delta Landscaping | Benny Miller Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Benny and Vanessa go on their first date. 

Warning: Benny Miller. That’s it. That’s the warning. No, but seriously, I think this is pretty fluffy. Vanessa has some insecurities about her body and a previous bad relationship.

A/N: This is an extended version of a scene from Chapter 15 of Delta Landscaping, but I think it could be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @trulybetty for answering a series of random questions mad libs style - I’ll share more at the end! Also to those reading Delta Landscaping, this does count towards our little bingo board…I hope you enjoy the latest Easter egg 😉

The drive over to the bowling alley was pleasant. Chatting with Benny was so easy and he constantly made me laugh. When I wasn’t laughing I was trying hard to not just stare at the guy – he looked so good. At one point, we stopped at a red light and he casually turned his hat backward and my breath hitched. I coughed to try and play it off. 

Saturday night at a popular bowling alley made for a packed parking lot and an even busier lobby. We walked up to check in and the woman at the counter told me that I didn’t have a reservation. I could have sworn I set it up, but I couldn’t find a confirmation email anywhere in my inbox. To make matters worse, she was giving me a pretty snotty attitude saying it would be at least a two-hour wait. 

I was so annoyed with myself, I’m usually better about stuff like this. Lord knows I love a plan. But Benny didn’t even bat an eye, he just told me to “Stay here darlin’” as he waltzed back over to the attendant who so rudely turned me away a few moments ago. He leaned against the counter and flashed a smile and some puppy dog eyes. It’s no wonder she folded and gave him whatever he wanted – shit, I would too.

He motioned for me to come over, “What size you got doll?”

“Ah, um….8 and a half if you have it?” I asked the woman, confused as to how they miraculously found us a lane.

The attendant gave me an up-and-down and looked at Benny before she turned around and plopped two pairs of shoes onto the counter. “Lane 22.” She said with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Benny winked. “C’mon, darlin’ let’s go,” Benny lightly laid his hand on the small of my back which sent goosebumps up my spine. 

“How’d you manage to find us a lane?”

“Well, you always catch more bees with honey,” he looked over with a smirk. 

“So a nice smile is honey now huh?” I quipped, the words coming out before I could think it through. 

“Oh I have a nice smile don’t I?” Benny chuckled. I averted my eyes, hoping that the warmth I was feeling in my cheeks wasn’t too apparent. “Here we go, lane 22. After you.”

We went to pick our bowling balls. I opted for a bright pink one pretty quickly, while Benny had to test several out. There’s a method to my madness he told me as he picked up ball after ball. I don’t know what came over me but watching his fingers slot into each…nevermind, I can’t think about that.

He eventually found one he liked and we started our game. It’s been years since I’ve done this but it was fun, even though I was playing with a ringer. I had more gutterballs than pins I knocked down, but Benny didn’t make me feel bad. It was sweet, actually. He tried to help me a couple of times, standing behind me, one hand lightly on my hip as he directed me where to aim. I honestly had no idea what he was saying, feeling his breath close to my ear it was a miracle I was still standing. 

We finished the first game just as our food arrived. Not only was it impressive that he bowled a perfect game, he did it with mostly trick shots. It was cute how he seemed to get excited trying to impress me. 

“Are you serious?” I shook my head. It was unfair, he wasn’t even looking at his last shot. His back was to the lane and he just let the ball fly behind him. He sauntered over to me with a big grin and a swagger that made me take an extra few sips of my water.

“Ooo yay, the food is here,” he rubbed his hands together, looking at the spread. I was a little self-conscious about ordering so much food, but he mentioned how training was making him hungry. 

“Wait wait!” I needed to take advantage and grab some photos. “Sorry, I um…one sec,” I bit my bottom lip as I pulled out my phone and started to rearrange the plates. I could see Benny out of the corner of my eye looking confused as I started taking photos. “Sorry…I am one of those people, annoying I know, but I figured tonight was a good excuse to start up my account again,” I finished my little impromptu photoshoot with a couple of quick videos to use for my stories. “Phone eats first,” I winked motioning that the coast was clear.

“What kind of account you have?”

“Oh, it’s just on Instagram…I started it a few years back…it’s a fun way to explore the food scene and…sorry this is all boring I’ll stop,” I laughed to myself.

“No, no, it’s not boring, I like it. I like food, clearly,” he motioned to the four plates in front of him which made me snort. “Lemme see, I wanna follow.” He motioned toward my phone with his chin.

I reluctantly handed him the phone and watched as he scrolled my account. My heart was racing wondering if he was going to think this was a stupid little hobby like Luce did. I saw his forehead scrunch and I felt a pit in my stomach, ready for the impending snide comment.

“What? I know I don’t always have the best lighting, I’ve been meaning to buy myself a little light thing and  - “

“No, hey,” he put his hand on my forearm, which sent an electric pulse up my body. I suddenly realized my sister was right and it was probably too warm for me to be wearing this flannel after all. “No this is great, these photos are beautiful…I just was wondering where you were.”

“What?”

“I don’t see you in any of these photos. Maybe your hands every once in a while, but how come you’re not in these?” He shook the phone as he turned it back to me.

There was a reason for that. It started off innocently enough, with one random troll making a comment about how I should spend less time going out to eat and more time on the treadmill. I could shake it off, one comment wasn’t going to bring me down. But as my account grew, the more of these I got – mostly from blank profiles. They didn’t even have the decency to show themselves, just letting their keyboards sling harmful words. So, I deleted every photo I was in, but eventually, that wasn’t enough so I just put a pause on the account. 

“Oh…I…um…I dunno I guess I’d rather have the focus be on the food,” I looked down, playing with the straw of her water. 

“Hmm…” Benny nodded, handing back my phone. He pulled his out and started typing. My eyes narrowed trying to figure out what he was up to. “There, you have a new follower,” he winked.

I saw the notification pop up and I had to steady my breath as I saw his profile picture because he looked so hot. It was a black and white photo of him in a white tank top and the same black hat he had on tonight. I clicked on his profile and almost choked seeing how many followers he had. “Holy shit, are you like an influencer or something?!”

He looked a bit sheepish, “I started the account when I got into fighting…a way to promote them…and then I just kept posting gym stuff and it grew from there.”

“Well, you have a lot of very loyal fans it seems,” I smirked, scrolling past some very thirsty comments. 

I’ve been down this road before. A pretty boy who has women throwing themselves at him. I nearly wrote men off completely after Lucien, but thanks to Vic and Marcus I realized that he was a very unique breed. I hadn’t known him long at all but I knew Benny was different. He obviously knew he was a good-looking guy, but there was something sweet and endearing about him. And no, this isn’t just me being mesmerized by his eyes…which also was happening.

“Pope used to date a girl who did social media stuff for her job so she set it up for me. I don’t post a ton, but it’s there. I’m mostly on there to help keep an eye on my niece, lord knows her dad is a lost cause when it comes to anything on his phone that’s more than making a call,” he chuckled to himself. “But now I’m excited to see your food stuff on my feed,” he smiled.

“Well thanks…I started the account when I lived in Charlotte…gave me an excuse to get around and explore,” I gave a tight smile as I bit into a slider.

“Maybe we can explore some stuff…together?” his hopeful eyes made me slow down my chewing. 

“Um…ok, yeah sure, that’d be fun,” I smiled back, trying to hide how giddy I was. “Although you may regret what you’re signing yourself up for,” I winked.

He looked at me with a lopsided grin and leaned in. “Oh, I don’t think I’m gonna regret it at all, boss lady.”

We snacked on the rest of the food as we bowled another game. I managed to knock down a few more pins this time and Benny, again, bowled a perfect game. As the time expired on our lane, a bittersweet feeling came over me. I had a lot of fun tonight, laughing and getting a chance to forget about things for a while. I honestly didn’t want it to end. 

________________________

As he opened the passenger side door for me he stopped, biting his lip and digging his hand into his pocket. “I…uh…d’you wanna go somewhere else? Or if you need to get home that’s ok too, I just figured maybe we can-”

“No, that's fine. I don’t have a curfew.” That comment made him laugh, which was like music to my ears. It was so pure. 

“Nice. Uh, wanna go get a drink somewhere? Is there a place you want to check out for your account?”

“Umm yeah, maybe here let me scroll through some stuff I saved.”

“Get in, we can figure it out,” he opened the door for me.

Within a few minutes, we settled on a new bar that was pretty close by. It was a casual place, which I was thankful for considering how both of us were dressed. 

Walking in, I noticed Benny scan the room. Now that I thought of it, he did the same thing earlier when we walked into the bowling alley. If I didn't know any better it seemed like he was trying to get a handle on where all the exits were or something.

We found a booth tucked in the back and I was surprised when he followed to sit on the same side of the booth as me. He sat close, our legs touching as we shared a menu. 

“So…what're you thinking?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Hmm…I'm not sure, everything looks so good. Kinda thinking of this espresso martini. What about you?”

“Espresso this late?” He chuckled.

“I'm Cuban, Bun. I've been drinking espresso since I was like four. You build up a tolerance,” I winked.

He licked his bottom lip as he looked down and laughed. “Ah makes sense. Is there a drink you think would make for a good picture? I can order that.”

I could have melted right there. In just a couple of hours he'd shown more support for this account than my ex had shown in years. 

“Aww that's sweet, but seriously, order whatever you want. Everything here looks awesome.”

He twisted his mouth to the side as he read through the menu again. “Hmm ok, I'm thinking this smoked Old Fashioned then.”

I had to laugh at myself when the drinks arrived. I could hear Marcus in my head making some comment about how they both looked “Insta-worthy.” The Old Fashioned Benny ordered came with a beautiful presentation. I was able to capture the smoke billowing out of the glass container as they unveiled the drink. My creative juices were flowing and I couldn't wait to edit and post some of these photos. 

“Hey, can I try and take some photos?” Benny asked with a lopsided grin. 

My eyes narrowed wondering what he was up to, but I was intrigued so I handed over my phone. He started off innocently enough taking some photos of the drinks and the bar, but the next thing I knew he flipped the camera around and wrapped his arm around me to snap a few photos of the two of us. I brought my hand to my mouth as I laughed, turning into his neck to hide. Being this close to him made my brain short-circuit a bit.

“There, some for your personal collection,” he said softly. He still kept his arm around me and I swear it felt like he was rubbing his thumb up and down my shoulder. 

I turned to look at him and the hustle and bustle of the bar faded away and it was just the two of us sitting on a bench. His eyes looked even more blue up close and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils. If he kissed me right there I would have been more than ok with it. 

The waitress coming back to check on us pulled us both back to the present. It was getting late so Benny asked for the check and paid, even though I was more than willing to. He'd taken care of everything this evening. I wanted to split things but he would tsk and say “no ma'am” and pull out his card instead. 

___________________

He walked close to me as we made our way back to his car side-by-side. It felt like his hand brushed against mine a few times, but I thought maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me. The drive home was a bit quieter. I was running through different ways I thought the night may end…trying to not get my hopes up for how I wanted it to end.

“Right, well Mari will be happy to know I got you home safe,” Benny said with a tight smile as he parked the car.

“Yeah, don’t want to get on her bad side. Although I don’t think you could do anything to get on her bad side, she’s pretty taken with you,” I laughed as I undid my seatbelt and grabbed my crossbody. 

“Here, ah…let me walk you to the door.” He quickly turned off the car and unbuckled his seatbelt, getting out before I could object. He waited for me to come around the front of the car, again lightly placing his hand on the small of my back as we walked up the walkway to the porch. 

“Thanks for tonight, I had a lot of fun,” I smiled as I started looking for my keys.

Benny put a hand in each of his pockets and rocked slightly forwards and backward. “I…ah…I had a lot of fun too…even if I kicked your ass in bowling,” he chuckled.

I feigned offense, “Hey now! I didn’t know I was up against a professional.”

“It’s not my fault I’m good at that stuff,” he said with a sheepish grin. 

“What other stuff are you good at?” I asked, not realizing I was biting my lip.

The energy changed and I think Benny must have felt it too with the way he sucked in a breath. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he closed the distance between us. Everything felt like it was simultaneously happening at warped speed but also in slow motion. As he got closer to me, the front door opened. Marcus. Marcus stood there with a garbage bag in his hand.

“Oh…ah…shoot, sorry,” he winced. “I was cleaning up a bit and I um…’scuse me,” he walked in between us giving me an apologetic look.

Benny rubbed the back of his neck, “Right well, I’ll get going. Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

I nodded, trying to catch my breath since my heart felt like it was beating in my throat. “Um, yeah. That’d be n-nice. I’d like that.”

Marcus walked back up, wringing his hands together as he approached us. “Hey, I ah…I don’t want to impose or anything, but um…Vic and I are celebrating our anniversary on Friday…10 years…we were planning on taking the day off together. I have a few things planned. But, we were talking and Benny if you want to help Vandy you guys can take the kids to the zoo or aquarium or something.”

“Marcus, you can’t just ask him to spend the day with two little kids…” I shook my head.

“N-no, it’s ok. Congrats by the way. I…uh…I like kids. The guys say it’s because I’m just a big kid myself,” Benny chuckled to himself. 

“You really don’t have to Benny….Marcus,” I gave him a look that said we’re talking about this later. 

“I really don’t mind. Besides, you’re going to tell Mariella that she could have spent a whole day with me and you said no,” he waggled his eyebrows at me with a grin. 

“She’s the boss around here you know,” Marcus added.

“We can talk about it…don’t feel like you have to make a commitment or anything tonight. I’ll um…I’ll see you later Benny. Thanks again.” I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck for a hug. 

He wrapped both arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” he whispered in my ear, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Have a good night Marcus.” He said with a small wave as he backed his way off the porch and walked back to his car. 

“I can’t believe you,” I hissed at Marcus as we walked through the door.

“Shoot I’m sorry Vandy,” he scratched his head. “I was listening to music as I was cleaning up, I didn’t hear you all pull up. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.”

I inhaled through my nose, counting to five so I didn’t freak out on him. “It’s fine, Buck.”

“So…how’d it go?” He followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I poured myself a glass of water. 

“Good. Really good. He’s a nice guy and we had a lot of fun.”

He pushed himself off the counter and came over wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “That makes me happy, you deserve it.” He kissed my forehead and I hugged him back.

_______________________

As I lay in bed, I started going through my photos from the night, trying to decide which ones I would post. I came across the photos Benny took. I hadn’t looked at them at the time but now I was able to see the way he looked at me in those photos. I didn’t even spend time picking apart how I looked. My eyes were zoned in on him – on the way his eyes crinkled or the big smile across his face. It gave me butterflies.

I had enough photos to split things up over a few posts, so I decided to go with a photo of Benny’s Old Fashioned from tonight. I was pretty pleased with myself at how I was able to capture the smoke. I didn’t know what to put for the caption but landed on “Great drinks. Better company.” and posted it. Within 30 seconds I heard my phone buzz. And then a few seconds later it buzzed again.

I had two Instagram notifications – both from Benny – a like on the post and a comment.

thatbmiller: Better company indeed.

The biggest grin came across my face and I had to cover my mouth to stop from squealing. I liked the comment and then felt another buzz, this time it was a text.

Benny: I had fun tonight. 

Vanessa: Me too. Thanks for liking my photo

Benny: Of course. 

Benny: So, I was thinking….aquarium?

Vanessa: Yeah, I’d like that.

A/N: That meddling Marcus 😆 for as much as he’s helped these two get together he’s also inadvertently cockblocked them too. Ok, so earlier I mentioned how @trulybetty answered some random questions I threw in her inbox one day… here’s what I asked, what her answer was, and how I used it in the story.

Pick a color: Pink (the bowling ball Vanessa chose)

Pick a number between 18-25; 22 (the lane they got)

Yes or No This was going to be whether or not they sat on the same side at the booth at the bar, so because she said yes, that’s why Benny went ahead and tucked himself into the same side of the booth.

A drink: Espresso martini (the drink Vanessa ordered at the bar)

Phrase: “You catch more bees with honey” (what Benny says after he sweet-talked his way to getting them a lane after Vanessa was initially turned away).

I hope you enjoyed this. I’m excited to share more about Benny and Vanessa in DL and beyond. Some of it may or may not already be written…. 😉

[undead-supernova]

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

The Room Burned Down

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Dancing With Our Hands Tied and I'm curious to see what people think about me twisting around the perspective of who is actually relating more to the songs

plot: maybe going to award shows together isn't as fun as you think it's gonna be...so, baby, can we dance through an avalanche?...I'd hold you as the water rushes in...

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: public shaming, some fluff, a hint of spice, arguments, smoking, mentions of addiction, mentions of abuse, mentions of fatphobia

easter egg count: 29

wc: 5.8k

“Do I have to talk to the press?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your manager, Clara, said, typing away on her phone.

“They’re going to rake me across the coals.”

It had been nearly a month since your first date with him. Despite his hope that the noise would die down, it was only exasperated by the fact that you two hadn’t been seen out in public, sparking breakup rumors. But it was only that he had his promo and you had yours, traveling round and round with no time to rest. You even had outfit fittings for this very event that kept you in two different cities. It hadn’t put any strain on your relationship. If anything, it did the opposite. You lived your own lives, calling when possible. Texting nonstop once you caught a break at the same time. It was all so new for you. 

Clara looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her professional face on. “If they do, just smile and walk away. Thank them for their time. Just try to stay neutral like you always do. You’ll be perfect, I promise.”

            Knock.

You peered over at the wall, a smile forming on your lips.

You knew exactly who would pull that move.

Knock, knock, you sent back.

            Knock, knock, knock.

            Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“Stop it, oh my god.”

A giggle left your lips. “Sorry.”

It was merely a coincidence that Corroded Coffin was getting ready for the American Music Awards on the same floor as you…directly next to you, that is. All by happenstance and absolutely nothing else. There was no coordination whatsoever and if anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d deny it. 

But here you were, causing mischief within the first hour of being situated. To be fair, you hadn’t seen Eddie yet, rushed off before Corroded Coffin even showed up. It was whiplash, Clara already spouting off the plans for the night. The time you’d get into the car. When you’d get out. The red carpet. Reminding you how to pose, how to smile. All the while, people floated around you with makeup brushes and endless cups of coffee. Hushed whispers and sighs.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

When you didn’t respond, you watched your door open in the reflection with Eddie stepping in, dodging the assistants and the assistant’s assistant running around. You smiled as you took in his appearance. Loose t-shirt and sweatpants, all cozy and soft. Hair damp, bangs pulled back. You noticed he’d been sat down for makeup, only one of his eyelids dusted in navy eye shadow. 

God, you’d missed him.

“What’re you doing in here?” you asked, nearly jumping up to give him the biggest kiss he’d ever received. But when your knees jerked, Clara placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you down. The pout on your lips wouldn’t even sway her.

“You didn’t answer my knock,” Eddie said, trying to sound innocent, placing a hand over his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

You giggled, but Clara only sighed, shaking her head as she fought a smile. “I can’t believe you both. Like toddlers, I swear.” She turned to Eddie. “Get out of here. We leave in two hours, and I know that hair takes at least one. Don’t make me call Paige.”

Eddie sent you a wink from the shadowed eye. “See you later, babe.”

You chuckled. “Bye, Eddie.”

Today was big for the two of you. Big big. You were sitting at a reserved table with Corroded Coffin. Just you, Eddie, Grant, Gareth, Jeff, and Ronnie. All together. In public. On TV. 

Your boyfriend would be with you unlike the last few wanting nothing to do with the exposure, usually hiding across the room. But Eddie insisted, only wanting to be near you all night. There for you, rooting for you as you were there for him, rooting for him. Getting to spend time with his close friends and his girlfriend.

Everything was starting to fall into place. The noise was becoming more bearable the more they stayed out of earshot. The world was unable to penetrate the magnificent walls you’d built around your hearts. And if you could just get through tonight without a fuck up or a bout of controversy, everything would be okay.

When you emerged from your hotel room, nearly ten minutes late, you found Eddie waiting for you, dark eyes widened as he looked over your outfit. You were in a Sixties Go-go dancer fantasy with a sparkly pink romper, the straps wrapped around your neck. Tall block-heeled boots reaching your knees. A thick pink boa to drape over your elbows. Dripping in jewels. 

An absolute daydream.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Eddie exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around, the boa floating to the floor. You took in his scent, that beautiful mixture of nicotine and bergamot from whatever cologne he’d started wearing lately. His breath was fresh against your neck, your ear, your jaw. His warmth bleeding through his double-breasted navy suit, textured from the polyester and cherry blossom pattern. 

When a nearly silent gasp left your lips, Eddie wasted no time with hiding himself with his hair and nipping at your neck. Your grasp on his shoulders tightened as his fingers dug into your sides. Feeling his tongue lightly flick over the mark made you feel, well, insane. Had it really been an entire month without his breath? Had you really spent an entire mouth with his voice over the phone, guiding you through your orgasms as you whined and begged for him? Had you really gone this long without him?

Despite wanting to pull him back into the room and rip off his ridiculously expensive clothes, you grabbed your boa and his hand before jogging towards the elevator.

Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Ronnie were already down at the car, probably drinking complimentary champagne and getting ready to sit in the audience for four hours, waiting for their names to be called. You couldn’t blame them. It did get rather boring after a while of the cameras and commercial breaks and announcers and performances. You’d almost been asked to perform, but before you could say yes, they asked Olivia to do it instead. It wasn’t something you minded, but there was a little part of you had felt sad at the loss.

But you were here to have fun, not worrying about who was who or what people had to say about you. Just have fun with the people who knew what real fun was. Be able to survive the night. 

Survive. Endure. Have fun.

As you made your way through to the lobby, hand in hand, you glanced over at Eddie again. You couldn’t believe how beautiful he was, always seeming to take your breath away. It was an accurate cliché, but one that couldn’t fully encompass how you felt. Hell, the English language wasn’t even enough.

“You’re a vision in navy,” you complimented, taking him in once again.

“Apparently, it’s a deep Prussian,” he corrected before rolling his eyes.

“Oh, my bad,” you replied sarcastically. 

“Hey!”

Paige was storming towards you, scowling. 

When you looked at Eddie, he just smiled at her and waved. “Paige, how lovely to see you tonight.”

But Paige merely groaned. “Get your asses to the car.”

“Look how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Eddie—”

“Cut it, Romeo,” Paige interrupted, shoving you through the door and into the limo with the rest of the band. Everyone cheered, handing you both champagne before clinking your glasses together.

You couldn’t help but look over at Eddie, his grin just as wide as yours.

I’m so in love with you, you thought, so close to letting it fall out. I’m so, so in love with you.

“Come on,” Paige shouted, making you flinch as you watched her signal to the driver. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

As soon as you were let out of the car, Clara led you away from the group, ushering you towards the photo ops and interviews. Men behind cameras called your name, begged for your attention. This was still something you found strange, like being held in a cage. You were to be spectated, gawked at by the public as nothing more than a show. A source of entertainment that extended far beyond your comprehension.

But Clara had trained you for this since the first time you ever stepped out on one of these carpets. You knew how to give them what they wanted. So, you put your hand on your hip. Pivoted every few seconds for different angles. Let the light hit your highlighter at just the right moment. A smirk. A laugh. Shiny smile. Shiny eyes.

It killed you the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name being called from behind you, harmonious with the sound of the rest of their names being shouted out. The photographers were going nuts as they found their way onto the carpet. You wanted to look back at him, wanted to admire how he shone. 

Because he did. He always did.

Eddie Munson knew how to shine without even breathing. Without talking. Without smiling. He could part a crowd like it was nothing, could bring everyone to their knees if he merely snapped his fingers. It was undeniable.

Everyone wanted him.

And, dangerously, he was all yours.

“You’ve been busy!”

You chuckled, trying to keep your eyes from flickering over at the camera being shoved in your face. This was the first interview of the night, the first of five. Five. It was something you’d agreed to months ago, but you didn’t realize just how taxing it would feel until the blonde woman in front of you stuck her microphone up to your lips.

“Oh, yeah!” you responded. “With writing the new album and thinking about the next tour and stuff, I’ve just been running around and trying to keep everything in check. Plus, Acacia My Dear means so much to me, I don’t want another album to overshadow that hard work.”

“And I’m sure you get a lot of support from your new boyfriend, Eddie Munson.”

You’d anticipated the mention, mulled it over and let yourself spiral late at night. But nothing prepared you for your dry mouth, for the lump in your throat as you began to scramble for an answer.

“Well, I’ve been really focused on my music,” you responded.

But she wasn’t letting up. “Will there be any songs about him on the new album?”

“I think art is always up for interpretation.” You smiled bigger despite your frustration, looking over her shoulder and pretending to notice someone. “I have to go, thank you.”

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

            “Have you collaborated with your boyfriend on anything?”

            “I really like to write by myself. The songwriting and the music are so important to me. Obviously, it’s important to the people who are so talented in different ways. I’m just grateful that people seem to care about it as much as I do.”

            “You and Eddie are so different. How does that translate at shows like this?”

            “I think everyone is here because they’re successful and talented at what they do. I can only hope that I measure up tonight.”

            “Do you think Corroded Coffin has a chance tonight?”

            “Everyone here is so talented. I hope that everyone gets a chance to shine as much as they do. I know that winning isn’t everything, but I hope I have a good shot.”

            “Is your new album influenced by Eddie’s sound at all?”

            “I’m talented and successful because of the sound I’ve cultivated and what I do. I think that I will continue to evolve as an artist and as a songwriter and, for me, I believe that I have been doing just that.” 

Four more interviews and each one talked about Eddie and not your music. Not your success. You hissed to your publicist that no one was allowed to even mutter Eddie’s name in an interview again and she furiously nodded and apologized. Clara nearly told you to cool it, but you stormed off into the venue. You didn’t want to hear from her. You’d done your fucking job.

When you spotted Eddie inside talking to Grant, you immediately found yourself in his arms. Away from the cameras. Away from the vultures. 

“Eddie.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing your back. 

“I think I’m gonna cry,” you gasped, anxiety flooding your system. Your hands were shaking, mind frenzied by the noise and the people and the fucking embarrassment.

“No, hey. It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, but Eddie kept his hands on your waistline. Kept you close.

“They just kept bringing you up. I tried to steer it all away back to my music, but they just kept going.”

“Hey, they asked me that shit, too.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that my relationship is private, but I’m proud of all your hard work right now. ‘Cause I am.”

Immediately, you felt like a shitty girlfriend. “I should’ve said that. I’m sor—"

“Look at me, baby,” he interrupted, searching your eyes. “Tell me your favorite Beatles song right now. Hm?”

Searching your mind, you were caught on the only lyrics that came to mind.

            “Life is very short and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.”

“‘We Can Work It Out’.”

“And we can,” he replied with a small smile, tapping your chin. You nodded. “Let’s just go sit down with everyone and try to bring the energy back, alright? I’m right here with you, baby. Always.”

But there were other lyrics to that song, ones that echoed even louder.

            “Try to see it my way

            Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong

            While you see it your way

            There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.”

Everything was turned around, the smiles and the laughter returning you to your senses. Corroded Coffin won the only award they were up for tonight. Naturally. After that, Jeff had pulled out a hidden deck of cards. You, him, Eddie, and Gareth were in a mean game of Go Fish, giggling your way through Gareth trying to cheat.

You were hardly listening when someone said your name onstage. Looking up from your cards, you heard the tail end of it. 

“…is about to switch genres, sitting over there with her new boyfriend.” The crowd around you laughed. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You saw Eddie’s hand in your peripheral vision, saw the middle finger starting to lift, and pushed his hand down. No need to make a scene.

“Quick, Eddie. Don’t get too close!”

Without hesitation, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, and Ronnie all stood up and flipped him off. Ronnie even pointed hers directly at the camera filming your reaction.

The audience gasped while other celebs at tables cheered them on.

What the fuck was happening?

Eddie glanced at you before getting up and stepping onto his chair. Slowly, he raised his middle finger.

The crowds roared, the presenter starting to look embarrassed as the whole room turned into chaos. Dozens of pictures captured their defiance, their retaliation.

And you?

Well, you sat there with a neutral expression, already trained in the art of disguising your emotions. Your lips didn’t hold a smile or a frown, something set in the middle. You controlled your eyes to stay in position, refusing to widen or fall half-lidded. Refusing to look up at your boyfriend.

But inside, you were something else entirely.

Full of rage at the jokes, full of fear at the way Eddie’s whole band went to bat for you. Furious at yourself for being unable to find the will to stand up with them. Terrified at what the world was about to say about it. Humiliated that they felt the need to pull a stunt to a stupid joke you’d heard a million times.

“Woah, woah, guys! Calm down!” the presenter said with a shaky laugh. He was clearly not anticipating what was happening. “It’s all jokes, promise. All jokes. Nice organization, though, truly. Anyways, moving on to the next category. Here presenting the award—”

As everyone sat back down, Jeff and Gareth went back to their game like it was nothing. 

You turned to your boyfriend. “Eddie—”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes meeting yours. “I can’t just let them do that. People have to know that it’s not okay.”

“Eddie, they’re gonna talk about us,” you said, noticing your southern accent bleeding through. Fuck. “Y’all can’t just do that. Think of tomorrow, think of—”

“And the nominees are for Best Pop Album are…”

You had to look away, remember where you were. Because that was your name they were saying up there, yourface they were zoning in on. 

And it was you that everyone was looking at as you were declared the winner.

You began standing, Eddie helping to pull out your chair. Turning to him, you thought about kissing him, thought about hugging him. Thought about giving him any sliver of physical affection while the world was watching. 

His hand reached out for yours, but you gave him a small smile before dipping your head and walking toward that stage. Alone. Without anyone by your side to help you up the steps. The applause was nearly deafening, the support seemingly louder than before. 

But you had to focus, clearing your throat as you took the shiny award, resembling a shard of glass ready to pierce your skin at a moment’s notice. You reminded yourself of where you were, what you were doing. What you had to do. Face the world yet again. 

Leaning into the microphone, you began.

“I’d really like to thank my record label for giving me the opportunity to explore new sounds and trusting me with the writing and producing process. Acacia My Dear is obviously a play on the Beatles song and I was so inspired to create an album centered around a fictional version of myself that I created. To tell that story was so euphoric and beautiful.” A few cheers sounded. “My art is what keeps me going and I’ll never stop loving it. Never. Um,” you stumbled, looking back out at the crowd before back at your award. 

There were words on your togue.

I’d like to thank Eddie for being so supportive these last five months. 

But you only shook your head. 

“So, yeah, this is for the fans and the many, many young queer women out there who want to make music. Y’all—” you paused, careful to switch your accent back. “You all can do it and you can be successful.” You lifted the award high into the air. “If I can, you can, too. Thank you.”

You’d made it to the vacant bathroom, made it to the sink in time to feel yourself start to lose it. 

This wasn’t the time to lose it.

You couldn’t.

But you were.

Being an outcast in high school was something you had in common with Eddie. While your circumstances differed and you didn’t know much about his past, you knew that you were both given the same nickname. Freak. You weren’t too sure exactly how you were supposed to be much of a freak, but you’d been labeled as such since grade school. It was always something new, from your interests to your appearance to whatever you said or did in class. The punchline to bets made by boys in the name of sheer boredom.

But girls and boys are both cruel. And whoever said boys shouldn’t hit girls never went to your schools. You were pushed into walls. Punched. Called names. Cyberbullied once emailing became a thing. Humiliated on social media once that came around. You were ugly, fat. Freak. A wannabe musician who had no talent. Freak. A loner who sat by herself and wrote during recess because nobody liked you enough to let you to play with them. Freak. Booed when you sang at your talent shows, left uninvited to sleepovers and birthday parties.

Freak.

The only thing you held sacred was your music that you recorded on GarageBand and uploaded to YouTube and Soundcloud, back when all of that was way more popular. It gained traction somehow, your song “High Walls” getting thousands upon thousands of views and praise. A record label saw the spike and took a chance on you, thinking you were talented enough at eighteen to make it big.

And you did. 

But you still had nightmares about those days. Spent time in therapy talking about how ridiculous you felt that you were still haunted by teenage girls and boys, all surrounding you with hollering laughter and pointed fingers. How you still heard their words echo in your mind whenever you looked online and saw the vile things being said about you. Still felt the sting of salt in your wounds whenever friends you’d made would stab you in the back.

The sound of heels brought you back to your reality, brought you back to the faint hum of the performance on the other side of the theater. For a moment, you thought that maybe Ronnie or Clara decided to see if you were okay. 

But you were disappointed to find some actress you forgot the name of. You recognized her face and nothing more. Her dark hair curled down to her shoulders, showered in golden eyeshadow and body glitter. She recognized you immediately, eyebrows shooting up at the mere sight of you.  

But she kept moving to the other side, holding her words back. You knew they were coming, anticipated them as she got settled. Her lips wrapped around a vape, her back and one red pump pressed against the wall. 

Crossing her arms, she began her prodding. “Some show, huh?”

You only shrugged.

“Want a hit?”

You looked at her, seeing that the offer was coming from a place of understanding rather than passing judgment or niceties. Because her mouth was scrunched up to the side, like she felt bad for you. Like she was genuinely just trying to figure out how to help.

And though you never really smoked cigarettes all that often, you took it from her and pulled a long drag. Well, maybe too long. The rush of nicotine hit you hard, dizzying before you felt the release. Like you were flying, like you were escaping from whatever hell you were being trapped in. And it was fleeting, the moment ending as soon as the cloud of smoke left your lips.

You handed it back to her. “Thanks,” you said with a breathy laugh. The familiar taste of MAC lipstick lingered on your tongue. 

“Yeah, no problem.”

Thinking the interaction was over with, you went back to looking at yourself. Your mind was close to clearing, was so close to being brought back from the brink of madness. If you could just get through the night without another hiccup or mistake, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe if you stayed perfectly calm—  

“Eddie Munson, huh?”

You refrained from letting out a scoff, your impulse control not strong enough to keep you from throwing up your hand before it slapped against the counter.

“Yeah. Eddie Munson.”

She noticed your irritation but didn’t get upset. She only watched you, tilting her head as she took another drag.

“What’s he like?”

The question rang in your head, echoing around you like there were a million voices asking at once. Because he was the one that everyone wanted, the one everyone gravitated towards. He was yours but he was also everyone else’s. Even if you could separate the two, could extract him from their narratives and stories, they would still be there. All rallied behind him like an army following blindly in his honor. 

But it wasn’t like they would do the same for you, was it? No, you were an outsider to the genre, to the subculture that he was in. You were just some popstar who didn’t get it, didn’t get him. Chasing a momentary high like that drag you took. Here one second, gone the next. Lulling him into the haze before fading into the gray. And you realized that even if you were given the chance to be with him forever, a chance that now seemed extremely slim, you would never truly be the sole person who got to keep him. 

Loving him forever comes with a cost. 

Looking back at your reflection, you sighed.

“A dream.”

Before you gave her any time to respond, you left.

Your ride back to the hotel was quiet, Eddie’s breathing becoming ragged with every red light they endured. He was worrying you, not even looking you in the eye when you got back to your seat. For the rest of the night. When you got a car together. When you stepped into the lobby. The elevator.

But then Eddie was taking off his blazer, trudging down the hallway, the boom of his combat boots bouncing off the walls.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to keep up.

“You barely even touched me the whole night.”

“Y’all stood up and made a scene!”

“Because he was being a goddamn prick.”

“I know, but that’s why you just don’t give them a reaction! It just causes more attention and then people think you do it because you want attention and then it just gets spun into something it’s not because people love drama—"

“No,” Eddie said harshly, turning around to face you. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the fucking internet. I wanted to congratulate you on your win and yet you just walked away. It hurt.”

“What you guys did hurt me. It was unprofessional.”

Eddie stopped then, pausing to really look at you for what felt like the first time since the band stood up. 

But he had no time to respond.

“Hey, what the fuck are you yelling at him for?!” Ronnie shouted down the hall, her boots just as loud as his.

She really did look a lot like Eddie, with the same curly hair and hardened stare. The same protective nature, the same wild heart. But her eyes were void of any compassion, any sympathy. She was fucking pissed, and it was only directed at you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did y’all ever think about how I’d feel about it? It was tough enough to publicly sit—”

“I’m so sorry that sitting at a table with your boyfriend and his friends is such a chore for you.”

Behind her, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff approached, their laughter cut short at the intensity of her words. Eyes trained on the scene in front of them. All three men silent, all three men watching the showdown that you didn’t ask to be a part of.

“Ronnie,” Eddie said. It sounded more like a warning, but she was still looking at you, still ready to pounce.

And so, she did.

“You’re a coward,” Ronnie seethed. “You’re lucky to have someone like him and I know you’ll gladly throw it away just because it isn’t the fucking fairytale you imagined. This is real life, sweetie. I know you sit there in your fantasy world with your sugarcoated lyrics and your fake smile. Too afraid to let anyone know how you really feel. Too afraid to hold your boyfriend’s fucking hand. A goody two-shoes who does nothing but cry about how unfair her life is even though you have everything you could ever need.

“You think you’re risking everything for him? For us? No. You’re not risking a goddamn thing if you just sit there and take it. Avoid it. Act like it’s not happening. We stood up for you because we fucking care about Eddie and Eddie cares about you. We didn’t have to do that. We could’ve just let him make fun of you for three more hours and let you get humiliated. But we did that, and I don’t care if you didn’t like it. You needed help. And you’re an idiot for acting like this has anything to do with professionalism. 

“You’re nothing but a coward. I can only hope you’ll change your fucking attitude for Eddie’s sake. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, you need to leave him and us the hell alone. Don’t drag someone into your fucking mess if you can’t clean it up.”

You tried not to cry in front of her, tried not to give in to bending and breaking of your soul. Her speech was loud, deafening, ringing in your ears like waves crashing into each other. Instead of replying, you turned and ran into your hotel room and slammed the door behind you. Sobs escaped your lips as you did everything you could to take all that shit off. Threw the boa on the floor. Threw your shoes at the headboard. Let your jewelry land wherever the fuck it wanted. 

But your romper was harder, sticking to your skin with the sweat and nerves and— 

The door opened, Eddie rushing into the room like it was burning down. And in some ways, it really felt like it. The heat and the sweat and the nerves and the way Ronnie shot those flaming arrows, the way it set your brain afire. The way it was starting to spread.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry about Ronnie. She gets really protective of me; it’s been a thing since we were kids—"

“Maybe this is too much,” you interrupted, “Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone less messy. Less cowardly.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you suggesting we break up?”

“I just,” you started, watching his eyes start to widen. “I don’t know. I feel like your whole life is being thrown into chaos because of me and I don’t want you having to change your whole life or fuckin’ feel the need to defend me on national television. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Grant and Gareth and Jeff and Ronnie.”

“Baby, I want you, okay? I’m willing to push through the bullshit if it means that I’ll get to fucking see you at the end of the day or week or even month. You’ve changed my life.”

You shook your head. He was lying, he had to be. Or he was living in delusion, riding on that fucking fairytale that Ronnie claimed you’d created. That wasn’t his reality, wasn’t yours.

“You just don’t understand, Eddie!”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “I know this is hard on you. I know. But you’re not the only one hurting, okay? I don’t like this any more than you do, and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re acting like I don’t get it. People call me a man whore or a player or whatever. And even though I recovered, people still think I’m a fucking cokehead. That shit is brutal. I’m not this crazy person who does what all the bands did in the Sixties or Seventies. Hell, even the Eighties and Nineties.”

Your eyebrows pulled in tight at his admittance. 

“It sickens me,” he continued, his stare intensifying. “I’m just a loser who got lucky and got out of a shitty small town.” He gestured away from himself. “I’m still that loser. That freak. And I was never given a chance by girls after we blew up—hell, most guys laughed at me. I had to just figure this out for myself, and I,” he gestured back to himself, “have chosen to remove myself from it. Remove myself from that picture they’ve painted for me. And then I found someone who fucking understands.”

As you listened, Eddie’s hand came back down, brushing against yours before weaving your fingers together.

“Someone who sees the world like I do and chooses me despite it being so…so loud. And you have spent your life thinking you have to do this alone. I get it. So did I. But one thing I’ve learned that you haven’t is that you don’t have to do this alone. We got you. I got you.”

“This is going to look so bad for you,” you whispered, tears running down your cheeks.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t care.”

Your head shook for you, rapidly denying his words. 

“And the rest of the band.”

His fingers met the back of your head, trying to soothe you as he rubbed circles into the muscles.

“I don’t care.”

Your eyes searched his as you tried to make sense of it all, make sense of the fact that he was still here. He hadn’t left. He’s saying things that no one, no one, had said to you before and meant so fervently. 

“And me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

He paused for a split second, long enough for you to catch it before he finally looked away, tucking his lip into his mouth.

His forehead bumped against yours, taking a deep breath. You did the same, breathing him in as you tried to find the will to stay.

To fight.

To keep whatever the hell it was that you had.

“Baby, I want to be with you.” His eyes shot back up to yours, tears collecting in his eyes.

“And I want our privacy. Trust me, I understand how you feel. But I still want to go outside and be as normal as we can. I wanna go get dinner and coffee and do whatever the fuck we want. I want to post a picture of you and dedicate my songs to you and be open and whatever the fuck else I want.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I know you do, baby. That’s why I want you to understand me. I want the same things you do, and I want us to figure out a solution together. I know we can do it. I just know. So don’t…don’t go.”

You closed your eyes, choking on a sob as you tried to make sense of it all. How he could still be here, fighting for you to keep going. 

“Eddie…”

His hands clutched onto yours as he sniffled. You felt his tears landing on your skin.

“Stay.”

This was messy. You were messy. A big, huge, ginormous mess that was getting in the way of everyone else’s happiness. Being everyone else’s disappointment. It was only a matter of time before you fucked up and ruined this. Ruined him.

But he’s still there, asking you not to leave.

“Is it really that simple?” you asked.

“Look at me.” 

And you did, watching his tears cascade down his cheeks. Watching as his face grew desperate, watching as his lip quivered.

“Please, don’t go. Stay.”

[honeys-hotties]

I love your writing omg, I was wondering if you could do like some head cannons about jb dating a singer as big as Taylor swift (and with music similar to hers), maybe even when shes doing a tour like the eras tour

yes yes yes i love this!!! i've been a swiftie forever this is so fun! this is kind of short but i wanted to get something out for you tonight!! xoxo

okay so julien has been a fan for YEARS and thinks you're basically the most incredible singer ever

i'm writing these thinking jb and you got together in like late 2022 early 2023? so she def watched you go through all of the shit with management and watched everyone turn on you and it broke her heart

you had worked with phoebe in the past and knew of lucy and julien but had never met them UNTIL an event you were all at

you guys went to the afterparty together and julien confessed she was such a huge fan of yours

you guys were friends for a while but were hiding feelings and it literally took someone else pointing it out for you to realize

you're both so insanely proud and supportive of each other's careers

awards show dates<3

matches her tie to your dress/outfit!

one million percent writing songs for each other

after everything that you went through she is so SO protective of you

she is as excited as you are for the eras tour and is so in awe of you as she watches the entire world lose its damn mind over you

just so incredibly in awe of you at all times, she is absolutely enamored

she helps you rehearse and choose the setlist for the tour, and helps you choose all of the surprise songs

surprising her with the outfits and her just absolutely losing her damn mind

keeping the vigilante shit choreo a secret from her until the very first performance and poor jb, her eyes are bugging out of her head she can't keep her eyes of you

def gets a little possessive as a joke, like, "babeeee only i get to see you like this"

maybe you do a little one on one show for her to make up for it...

is just obsessed with you and your stage presence

sometimes she can't believe how many people your music affects and she is so incredibly in awe of you and the impact you've had on people across the world

she comes to as many shows as she can and there are SO many videos of her watching you like you hung the moon

munagenius teases her constantly about you, saying she has to share her girlfriend with the rest of the world too

they all love you SO much and you guys are all constantly hyping each other up and promoting each other's music

going to her shows but trying to be discreet

SO many paparazzi photos of you two just being incredibly in love, holding hands, going on walks, all of it

you include her in all of the hints and easter eggs for re releases (rep tv when????) and she loves helping you troll your fans

she has so much respect for everything you've been through and everything you sacrifice to make music

helps you write songs and come up with music

always looking at you with the biggest heart eyes, she tells you all the time she can't believe you chose her and you tell her that YOU'RE the lucky one

lots of affirmations and reassurance

she's just so amazing and in love and now i want to be a taylor level singer with jb as my gf<3

i hope you liked this babe!! let me know if you have any more requests!! love you all with my whole heart

[factual-fantasy]

24 asks!! :DD Thank you so much!! :}}

WAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! THIS WAS SO SWEET I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY!! JUST- THANK YOU! THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!! 💖💖😭💖😭😭💖💖

@annathefenecfox

I haven't watched the episodes she's in yet.. but I love her color palette! She looks really sweet :}💚💙💛

@spinelfan11

They would run XD

@supersecretnerd

Woof, she looks like hello kitty! <XD What even is she? A squirrel..? Geez, if I ever add her to my AU, she will definitely be getting a full fur color make over- XDD

(Also thank you!! :DD)

@rubydraft (Comic in question)

YES YES! That was very much intentional! :DD And the answer lies in the fazbands!

The animatronics can scan the Fazbands and get any important information about the child they might need. Such as the child's name, age, and which parent they belong to.

The Fazbands also act as a proof of purchase. If the the animatronic scans a child and no fazband is detected, that child must be brought to an employee. As there is no current proof that the child has had their admission paid. Hence why Gregory has a red outline, he has no fazband!

The blue kids all have standard fazbands. As every kid is given when they enter the pizzaplex.

But if its your kids birthday, they are given a special fazband that has them show up differently in the animatronics scanners. This tells the animatronics that the golden kids are the birthday boys/girls! And they will address the child as such if they ever encounter them. :)

(Also there's an Easter egg in one of those panels that no ones pointed out yet.. 👀)

Oh yeah, there's a lot of em. :( But the animatronics don't have to worry about them. They have handlers to watch over them and keep angry Karen's/crowds away.

I haven't really figured out their whole schtick yet..

I think in the partial swap they haven't changed much. Although Monty is a kindler gentler Monty. With Foxy by his side he's simmered down some. And his theme is a little different than before.

Roxy I think is more of a recluse in the partial swap, like original Monty is.

As for the true swap.? I haven't really figured it all out yet. Thinking that Roxy is a golfer and Monty is a racer..? I haven't thought it all through yet <XD

@wolfie-777

Off the top of my head I have these two Minecraft wolf OCs that I made a while back :00 I cant remember any others if I happen to have them-

@itschrisboys

:D Thanks!

@wdillustration

XD I wont draw that today, but maybe sometime I'll draw him giving someone a big ol bear hug :)

@acedgola

:DD Hiii!! I use FireAlpaca! Its got some problems but at least its free! Its easy to learn but also has enough tools to be used by a professional! You can also animate with it if you have the patience to figure out how to use it XD

Overall, 7.5/10 would recommend FireAlpaca!

(Post in question)

I'm not a hardcore fan, but yes! I do love the little korbo :}} And those are some Kirby slippers I got for Christmas! :D

They're my artist hands! And I'm not sure what you mean.. 11 hands is a perfectly normal number of hands to have!

Right.?

I just imagined Glamrock Freddy having an imaginary friend that looks a lot like a purple/blue bunny.. :( 💔

@softkidlavender

My beautiful eyeballs have been known to lure people to my blog XDD (Also thank you! :DD)

@basementdregon101

:DD I'm glad you like it!! :}}}

@rockbott0m47

A fant. Its often mispronounced as "fart"

@ardent-38 (Comic in question)

WAAAA I REMEMBER THOSE TAGS!!! I SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING IN THE COMMENTS- WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IT WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY AND IT STILL LIVES RENT FREE IN MY BRAIN 💖😭💖

AND THANK YOU AGAIN!! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY GOLDEN BOYS AND MY OCTONAUTS STUFF!! WAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! 😭💖💖💖

AAAA THANK YOU!! :DD I'm so glad you like them!! :}}}

@fizzy-stars

XD I'm glad you felt inspired by me to bring those OCs back! And I hope that bite tasted good XDD

<XD It'd be more like;

Classic Bonnie: "Dude, what happened to you?

Swap Bonnies: "😒......"

It's all fun and games until I emerge ominously in the background with a snowball the size of a car XD

Everyone starts looking through the cookies and trying to figure out which one they want. Meanwhile I push everyone aside and snag all the peanut butter ones XD

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Small fun fact about me:

My mom is neurodivergent too! And not only that, but

Me and my mom share a special interest.

[A short post about me, my mom, hyperfixations, and how acceptance can help you grow]

For the last ten years, both me and my mother have had a hyperfixation on Marvel movies and Superhero movies in general.

And if anything, she's more fixated than I am.

This started at the same time, despite my mother never picking up a comic in her life. It happened when we first saw the Avengers in theatres in 2012.

Since then me and my mother have seen every Marvel movie on the day of release, or even a day before release.

When I was in high school, I remember her specifically pulling me out of school early to take me to the marathon premiere of Thor 2 and The Winter Soldier.

She's seen every Marvel media to date outside of the Netflix series. She's already finished Secret Invasion.

In recent years, we've gotten Unlimited movie memberships, and because we live in NY we can often see movies the Thursday before the Friday release, so we go to the movies almost twice a month, and we see movies repeatedly.

I saw ATSV three times in theatres while she saw it twice, and saw GOTG a second or third time. We recently saw Blue Beetle the day or two after release. She keeps me CONSISTENT.

The reason why I theorize about Marvel media and Spider-man media is largely because of her.

For years she was the one I theorized with. I've spoken to her about whether or not Peter set Miles up (she isn't convinced), or argue with her about whether or not Khonsu from Moon Knight is cool (he is).

She watches more Marvel fan content than me and inhales all the essays, reacts, and Easter egg videos on YouTube.

She's the same with recent Star Wars, she's seen Andor and Boba Fett and the Mandalorian, and currently working her way through Asoka.

And she knew about my past fixation on Loki in specific. She even knows about Hobie and Diane.

I told her I want to go to NY ComicCon as my spidersona and she was like "... You'd have to work on your roller skating" and I was SHOOK she remembered that about Diane because she's right.

But yeah, we've always been REALLY REALLY close over marvel stuff, and it's amazing having a parent who has the same fixation as you. It's like a natural thing, and I can speak openly about my theories or interests and she'll be like 'Oh yeah I noticed that incredibly niche moment where Hobie did that one specific thing, what of it'

I'm never treated weird for my fixation. Cause hers is stronger. I told her I didn't want to see GOTG again and she was like HUH and I was so heartbroken that I went and saw it anyway 😭😭

Some of my favorite moments with my mom are in movies theatres. And because we share this niche interest and neurodivergency, we're able to have these in-depth conversations about these characters we've formed bonds to together.

When Loki the show came out we'd been waiting literal years for it - like literally since 2013 talking about it. And I had a lot of mixed feelings about it.

But I could talk about those feelings and thoughts and characterizations with someone I know wouldn't ostracize me, knows the material as well as I do - if not more, and cares about these characters.

Because of that, my theorizing skills were able to grow all throughout my teenage years.

Because my hyperfixation was nurtured instead of demonized.

And I just think that's SO COOL.

Just wanted to share. Here's a photo of Miguel because I hate consistency [this is a hobie household]

Bye.

[wtfsteveharrington]

chai & hot pink lipstick / steve x fem!reader x robin

content & context: steve decides robin needs to learn how to drive, instantly regrets it being in his car. then you get back to his house only to find they both have gifts for you with robin’s being a little unexpected. 

disclaimer if you’re new here - all sexual interactions are exclusively between robin x reader and steve x reader. they happen at the same time but the only thing between steve x robin is banter and general best friend annoyance. once again we’ve booked a ticket to paris in this. 

steve x reader: oral (m receiving), spitting, body smacking, light degrading & praise, threat of pleasure denial. 

robin x reader: oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), body smacking, light degrading, praise, strap on sex.

author note: more fluff / interactions & new smutty adventures. honestly this is mostly cheesy, giggling smut i’ve posted at multiple points and i stand behind it. i think this might be the last part because otherwise these idiots need to realize they’re all in love but i do have one more idea,,, also there’s some easter eggs from other chapters in here,,, let me know if u find them (: i had to cut a lot of this out because it got way too long whoops i love them my bad there’s like 2k of bonus content in my drafts rn

word count: almost 5.5k

part one | part two | part four

The three of you hung out a lot before things escalated. Now? It seems you’re never apart. To the point where Steve was personally offended that you drove yourself and Robin to go shopping one night. “I wasn’t working and you two didn’t ask for a ride? That’s literally a token boyfriend responsibility. The BMW deserves so, so much better than this.”

He spent the night pouting but you made it up to him once you were alone. Everything settled into a shocking easily rhythm that was Steve and Robin fondly annoying each other while being simultaneously whipped for you. 

All things considered, Steve was taking the introduction of Robin into your relationship... Shockingly well. You expected some push back and would completely understand if he showed hints of jealousy or frustration. 

It made sense to him though. His girls having fun while completely safe and protected? He didn’t have to worry about scaring away girls that Robin deserved way better than and you got to enjoy a girl he knew wouldn’t hurt you. Always brushing off your concerns with a shrug and, “It doesn’t bug me because Robin-... She’s giving you something different than I do, that’s all. Just don’t go getting any ideas about adding like Eddie in or something. Because that?” He’s scoffing, playing off the idea, “That would never slide.” It would slide. Let’s clarify that.

The main strain in your relationship? 

Steve’s new passion project of teaching Robin how to drive. 

Robin? There’s a reason she doesn’t have her driver’s license. You love like her, but damn the girl can’t drive. You’re in the passenger seat of Steve’s beloved BMW, trying to talk Robin through backing out of a parking spot. She’s tense, her foot keeps pressing down too firm on the gas and even in the empty parking lot you’re worried she’s going to magically hit something. You’re trying to portray this calm energy but your voice keeps squeaking and giving you away. “Good! You’re doing good. Maybe try a little less pressure.” She was not doing good but your role was to build confidence. 

You reach across the car and put your hand on the top of her thigh, pressing firmly down into her skin. “See, right now you’re doing this. We gotta go a little lighter. Try feathering the pressure. Good. It doesn’t need to be all or nothing.” Her focus is taken off the pedals and towards your hand that’s mimicking the instructions you’re giving. After all this time she should be a little more immune to your touch, but she’s not. 

“You know, this would be a lot easier if Steve wasn’t having a meltdown back there! I can practically feel the tension, dude. You’re the one that said we should practice today!” And thus begins the back and forth. Steve’s buckled up in the backseat, his hands over eyes and his fingers in his own hair. “Buckley! Eyes on the road, hands at 10 and 2. If you get her scratched I’m going to kill you, I swear to God.” 

The corners of your mouth are twitching and you’re trying so hard to hold back a smile as the two of them start to banter. You reach your other hand back to grab Steve’s knee, giving it a small squeeze. “Both of you shut up. Robin’s doing a good job, You both gotta relax.” She’s bouncing her head along to your words and biting her tongue to stop from making another dig at Steve, taking a deep breath before rolling her shoulders and gently backing the car out of the space. Before you know it she’s going down the row with ease. 

You both hear Steve exhale deeply while nodding to himself. He’s reaching over to grab your hand, giving you a tense smile when you finally catch his eye. And maybe there’s something about his view that does something to him. You mostly carefree in the passenger seat, bobbing along to the music that’s low on the radio. He could spend the rest of his life looking at that view. 

Robin gets you guys back to Steve’s house safely, much to your surprise. The three of you pile out of the car, your dumb boyfriend instantly getting on his hands and knees to kiss the ground of his driveway. “Sweet, sweet cement how I never thought I’d see you again.” Which has Robin scoffing and flipping him off over her should as she follows you to the house. “I’m half convinced he fucks that car. Like, before you came around? I can only imagine how tempting the crease of those seats were for him.”

He’s chasing the two of you into the house, screaming about how he heard Robin and he never fucked his car but he has fucked you in it and that was a life altering experience. You make it to his bedroom door first, glancing back in time to catch Robin pulling at his hair. “You’re getting too shaggy. Book a haircut soon or you’ll lose every ounce of hair reputation you have left.”

Once he reaches the doorway, Steve’s jerking his head towards a bag seated on the bed, giving you a wink while you walk up to examine the contents. He’s walking up to the mirror in his room, taking the time to investigate his hair. Fine, maybe it is a little long. “Stopped after work to get you something pretty to wear.” He’s looking at Robin now and scratching his hand through his hair. “I don’t-... Do I need to buy you-... Am-... I don’t think I’m meant to buy you shit too, right?” Simultaneously both concerned he messed up (Girls enjoy gifts, okay) but also not impressed with the idea of having to learn Robin’s bra size.

She’s instantly shaking her head, arms going across her chest. “I’m good on the lingerie gifts from Steve Harrington. Thanks though. You spend that money on her, makes us all happy.” Steve’s flipping her off now, grinning as he turns around to take one last glance in the mirror.

You’re going through the contents of the bag with an appreciative hum, admiring the way Steve truly does know what you want. Everything is in your favorite color, the sizes all right. 

It becomes an easy pattern going to Steve’s house. The three of you have your designated spots. You get the left side of his bed because all of your stuff seems to accumulate on that nightstand. Your cassettes, a hand lotion, an old watch of his mom’s she gifted you kept complimenting it. Steve sits on the foot of the right side of the bed typically but he also likes to sit by the record player in the corner of his room so he can change it easily. Robin has convinced Steve to get a bean bag chair that she instantly curls up in.

Easy and comfortable and the three of you get anxious being away from the normalcy you’ve built.

Being so caught up in the package, you don’t notice the way Robin’s shuffling on her feet or the way she’s looking all the way around the room except the two of you.

“So I, uh, I bought something as well. But I’m not sure how well it’ll be received, both figuratively and literally. If it’s not our jam then no worries, I’ll toss it out the window. Not actually because it’s not something we’d want a kid to find or Jesus Christ what if some wild dog decides it’s a toy and then tomorrow’s headline is “Stray Pooch Shocks Hawkins!”.” 

You and Steve are both stopped in your tracks, knowing exactly what a Robin ramble means. It had been awhile since the two of you heard her go on like that. You guys give each other a confused look before you take a step towards Robin as she nervously toys with her bag. She won’t meet your eye and your curiosity has never been this high before. “Haven’t you learned by now that we’re pretty fucking judgement free, Robs. What’s going on?” 

There’s a very, very small list of things Robin could pull out of her bag that would concern you. The list is probably more concerning than whatever is in her bag. Steve’s stepping around Robin, standing behind your back as he peeks around to see what she’s so nervous about. 

Robin doesn’t say anything before pulling a box out of her bag, throwing it on the bed, and running across the room to stand in the doorway. Her cheeks were so bright red even someone the next state over would be able to see them with ease. “Listen! If it’s weird then just tell me and we’ll literally never talk about this again but like... I could use it with you or you could use it on Steve-” It comes out in one breath, causing you to almost miss what she said. 

You grab the box off the bed, Steve’s hands coming to wrap around your waist as the two of you investigate together. Robin? Still halfway out the door. “A strap on?” You want to laugh at the fact that she was this stressed out over a toy but you know better. Steve’s fingers press into you as you start to open it, pulling out the harness. 

Looking over at Robin, she’s clearly stressed out. Shuffling her weight to either side and glancing down the hallway as if she’s trying to calculate how much time it would take for her to run out of the house. “Robin.”

It takes a minute before she looks your way. Her nose scrunching up as she speaks, “It’s not weird, is it? Because I’m still trying to make sure I don’t overstep anyone’s boundaries but I think it would be really, really fucking hot. Like it’s one thing when we hook up because neither of us have a dick but is it too much if I use that one? And ideally I don’t want to throw it out of the window because not only would that be so chaotic but that was also expensive.”

A chuckle finally escapes as you grab the dildo out of the box and slide it through the o shaped ring of the harness. Steve can’t explain what it does to him watching you work with this hot pink dildo. Truly hot pink. One of the brightest things you’ve ever seen in your life and it’s a dildo that Robin bought because she wants to fuck you with it. 

“It’s not weird. In fact, I kinda wouldn’t mind being the one who has to teach you what to do for once.” You’re grinning at her now, extending out the now fastened toy her way. “Now do you wanna test this out or are you gonna make me beg for it?” Any other circumstance? Robin would have made you beg. But she’s taking these tiny steps across the room to take the harness out of your hand, moving to adjust the straps. Needing to do something with her hands to help distract herself from the nerves.

She always looks between you and Steve. As if there was anything left to hide between the three of you, any rules left unspoken. Yeah, technically you were his girlfriend but things weren’t that simple anymore. None of you knew exactly what was going on. That was a problem for a different date. 

For now you’re giving Robin a tender smile while bringing your arms around her neck. Your lips barely brush against hers when one of Robin’s hands let go of the harness in favor of cupping your check as she steals another delicate kiss. “Haven’t you learned by now you don’t have to be nervous around me, Robin? I’m not sure what I gotta do to prove it to you but I’m never gonna judge you.” She’s searching your eyes, finding nothing except this gentle look that’s truly free of judgement. This was all new to her too. 

Steve? Breaking up the moment. “I might judge you though. Just a little. Mainly because you picked a shade of pink they use to direct planes with. Like, you could see this thing from space, Robin. Maybe a nice baby blue next time? Or a lavender?” The three of you are laughing and you are thrilled to see the way tension rolls off of her shoulders as she flicks Steve’s forearm. “It was the only one that wasn’t nine inches long, Asshole. Figured you didn’t want that much competition.” 

He’s laughing now, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek before stepping back from the two of you. “Fair play. Maybe I owe you and that shade of neon pink an apology then.” You watch as Steve turns around and heads towards his record player. Giving you and Robin a few minutes of privacy. Her lips are on your neck, the hand that wasn’t holding the harness coming down to hook a finger through your belt loop. 

Abba begins playing. A record you picked the last time you two had a date night and made Steve listen to until you had each song memorized. You grab a fist full of Robin’s hair on the base of her neck with your right hand, tilting her head back so you’re able to kiss her. It’s a lot more passionate than before. Your left hand is pushing her jacket off her shoulder before dragging it down Robin’s chest. 

“Do you want to fuck me, Robin? I wanna hear you tell me. Did you get wet for me when you were walking around the store? Deciding what toy you wanted to use on me?” She’s moaning into your mouth, her finger nails digging into the skin above your pants on your hips. Robin’s voice is already a little too breathless for her liking. Part of her would worry about sounding pathetic if she wasn’t so entranced by you. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I bought it. When I got home touched myself thinking about how pretty you’ll look. Thinking about how you’ll moan my name... You’re the only thing I think about.” 

The feeling was mutual. If Robin wasn’t on your mind, then Steve was. If it wasn’t just one of them, it was both of them. 

You pull away from her kiss much to Robin’s protest before tugging her shirt over her head. “Then why don’t you prove it? Show me and fuck me like you dream about.” Within seconds your pants are on the floor, your shirt quickly following as you kneel onto Steve’s bed. Robin’s stuck in her spot, watching as you lay back on the bed and let your legs fall open for her. “C’mon, Baby. Do you wanna do this or does Steve need to take care of me?” 

Steve who has been standing in the mirror and examining his hair because now that it’s been pointed out it’s too long, it’s driving him crazy. He’s looking at you in the mirror, smirking at the sight of you spread out on his sheets. “Yeah, Buckley. Maybe you’ll do better at this than backing up.” She’s glare at him now which leaves you laughing to yourself. Robin’s turning away from Steve to give you a pointed ‘what an asshole’ look while pushing her own pants off of her frame. You take in the dark navy underwear against her skin, letting your hips start rocking as you prepare for what’s to come. “I got us home safely, didn’t I? Enough bullying, let me focus.” You’re just grinning at her. Your Robin. 

You watch as she kicks her underwear across the floor, bending over to bring the harness up her thighs and around her waist. She’s crawling onto the bed, taking her time to kiss random exposed bits of your skin. Robin’s kissing the fabric covering your pussy, dragging her tongue along the already damp fabric. 

She’s pulling the offending material off of your body before burying her face right back between your thighs. Her tongue glides up between your folds and your hands grip into her hair at the same time her tongue starts to flick over your clit. This woman was going to drive you insane. “Fuck. You’re so good at that, Baby. I get so wet for you, need you to clean me up like this all the time.”

Robin’s holding your hips in place to keep yourself from wiggling away as she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks against the nub. You feel yourself clenching around nothing and are suddenly truly realizing that Robin’s about to fuck you with that toy. She laps at you for another minute before the anticipation’s about to kill you.  

“Come kiss me. Please. Wanna taste myself on you.” Robin presses a firm kiss to your clit, over your folds, and gives another lick against your hole before coming up to your lips. She’s dragging the most broken moan out of you as your tongues slide against one another.

Your knee is bumping against her leg as you bring your thigh up between her legs. Bending it just right where you’re pressing your thigh against Robin’s semi covered core. She’s wet and she’s moaning your name as she rocks her hips back against your thigh. The material of the strap on harness rubbing against her clit just right. Robin could come right then and there if she wasn’t careful. 

“Wanna try fucking you now, okay? Let me know if it hurts or if you need me to adjust.” You’re nodding before reaching back over your head to grab the bottle of lube out of Steve’s bedside table. She doesn’t blink twice before taking the bottle out of your hand, squirting some into her hand. The sight of Robin fucking this pink dildo into her slick hand? Sinful. 

Her eyes are practically burning your skin with how intensely she’s watching you. Wanting to make sure you feel nothing but pleasure as she navigates doing this for the first time. The bottle of lube is thrown across the bed and you slightly adjust your body so your head is closer to the edge of the bed while your hips are more centered. You give Robin a small nod and gets herself back to where she’s kneeling between your legs. Both of you try to ignore the fact that your thigh is still a little slick from where she was grinding against it. 

You feel her sliding the toy between your folds then moving to apply a firm pressure to your hole. She’s biting the tip of her tongue, brows knitted in concentration. It’s cute how focused she is. The toy makes another pass between your folds before she’s finally pressing the tip into you. 

It’s hot, so fucking hot. 

Robin eats up the way you moan out her name. You’re bringing yourself up onto your elbows to watch as she uses every ounce of concentration she has to try and figure out the best way to get the toy at a steady pace. It’s a little awkward at first, okay? The strap needs to be tightened and it’s not exactly connected so you have to move just right. She’s never had to thrust like this before. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Robin catches you grinning at her. Not your head thrown back in ecstasy like she wants but this shit eating, entertained grin. “Fuck off! This isn’t easy, okay?” Robin’s laughing now and you’re so flustered this time. Smacking your hands down against the bed as your own laughter comes out. “Robin! Stop laughing when you’re in my pussy! It’s every single time something happens and you start laughing. I was smiling because you’re cute. Please stop laughing when I’m naked!” 

The both of you? A giggling mess. She’s leaning down to kiss you as if that will solve all your worries. And, to her credit, it mostly does. You’re grinning against her lips, arms wrapping around her neck so you can hold her still. 

Robin’s trying to adjust her arm that’s supporting her body as the two of you stay sidetracked kissing when her shuffling causes her to move her hips so the dildo pressing deeper into you. The motion causes you to gasp against Robin’s lips, her eyes instantly going wide and “Yeah? It felt good?” You’re nodding quickly, your hands up to clasp over her upper arms. Robin’s trying to mimic the motion again, dragging her hips all the way back so just the tip of toy is resting inside of you before pushing herself back in. “Please, Robin. Just like that.”

She’s so proud to hear your praise, all of her attention going right towards trying to recreate the motion. Robin’s getting the hang of it now, pumping into you at a steadier pace. The motions are rocking through your body and she appreciates the way you’re bouncing in time with her. 

Steve’s finally got sidetracked from his hair, watching the sight unfold much like the first night you three got together. He spots your head starting to dangle over the edge of the bed and he’s using this as his opportunity to join in without being too distracting. 

Your eyes are closed tight when you feel the air moving as Steve squats down to get level with you, brushing your hair off of your forehead. He’s got this cocky smirk that’s driving you crazy. “You love this. Not just us, you love being fucked, don’t you?” There’s no way you can deny it. Robin’s still rocking into you and that should leave you fully satisfied. She’s got the motion down and the three of you can hear how wet your pussy is from her. 

But you’re not fully satisfied. There’s always room for Steve to use you too. 

He’s pressing a kiss to your forehead, grabbing your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger. “Open that pretty mouth for me.” You do. Your lips instantly parting and you let out this insane moan as he spits into your mouth. Steve’s pushing your head back down, letting it rest fully back against the side of the bed. It takes seconds before the weight of his balls are against your lips. “So fucking filthy, aren’t you? Put that mouth to work, Honey. If you stop taking care of me, I’ll have Robin stop fucking you until you can show some appreciation.” 

You drag your tongue over the skin where his balls meet, Steve’s hips jerking already. There’s something about the way you always do what you’re told that drives him crazy. Sometimes you push back, very rarely. He savors those moments too but nothing competes to how willing you are. 

You’re getting to work on sucking, wrapping your lips around him and preparing to work your way to his length when suddenly there’s a sharp smack to your breast. 

Robin’s jaw drops because she didn’t know that was an option. Smacking? Carefully calculated so it doesn’t pass the threshold of being too painful, of course. But still. “Holy shit, baby.” She’s cooing at you now, changing her motion to become these slow, deep strokes. “You really are such a slut.” A scoff falling from her lips as Robin’s hand comes up to trace over the very faint red mark Steve’s hand left behind. She knew you liked to be spanked but seeing that up close? It’s awakening something deep in Robin. 

Her hand is coming down against your other breast. Not as firm as Steve’s touch but it’s so unexpected that you’re arching your back up towards them. Rewarding Robin with this choked out moan that’s getting lost against Steve but she still catches the sound. 

You tighten your legs around her waist, rocking your own hips up to meet her thrusts. “You’re getting so needy. Do you deserve to come, Honey?” Robin Buckley was a fan of many things, calling you every pet name in the book was certainly one of them. 

Steve’s pushing the head of his dick between your lips now, thrusting his hips all the way in which causes you to gag around him. “Robin asked you a question. Are you going to answer or do we need to stop until you can get it together?” You’re reaching back, nails digging into a mixture of Steve’s hip and the side of his ass as a hint for him to pull out of your throat. 

They’re listening to you gasp as he pulls back, still rubbing the tip of himself against your lips. He tastes salty as you lick his pre cum from your mouth. “Please, Robin. I need it, need you to get me there.” 

That’s all the motivation she needs, even if Steve was ready to drag it out a little longer. You couldn’t stand it if he did. He’s slipping back into your mouth, lazily fucking your throat while Robin picks her pace back up. She’s reaching down, a finger on either side of your clit as she tries to work up your release. “Pretty girl needs to come for us, huh? We’ll take care of you. Laying there and getting used without a care in her world. You do have such a greedy pussy.”

Remember the trademarked Robin Rambles? These were your favorite. Just the mixture of being called out by her and praised in the same sentence. It drove you crazy. Steve’s hand is coming down to jack off the portion of his length that isn’t in your mouth at any given moment, throwing his head back as he moans your name when you swallow around him. 

Robin knows you’re close. She sees the way your hips are no longer moving in time with hers and knows you’re right on the edge. Steve’s hand is reaching out to tweak your nipple, alternating his attention between the two. Your body is on fire. As in there’s spots in your vision because you feel so good on fire.

Your orgasm hits without much warning. Screams muffled by Steve’s length while Robin keeps working your clit as you ride the sensations. Quickly becoming nothing more than a whimpering mess. 

Steve’s still working your throat, delivering another small smack to the side of your breast and before you know it you feel his cum dripping inside of your mouth. The sight of you getting fucked like that pushing him over too. Maybe there was some small, selfish part of him that didn’t mind Robin joining in like this because it was simply fucking hot.

He feels you swallow around him, getting each drop before you’re panic tapping against his thigh while pulling your hips away from Robin. “Too much.” It’s nothing more than a gasp but they both get the hint. She’s pulling out of your pussy, moaning to herself at the sound of how wet you were. 

Robin’s pulling you up against her chest, supporting the weight of your body against her own. She’s shushing you, running her hands along your thighs. You feel Steve’s hand so gentle against your sweaty back. “We got you. You’re good, alright? You did so good for us, Baby. Looking so fucking beautiful like that. Just relax against me.” 

If there was two people in the world that understood your aftercare, it was them.

She’s holding you for a moment, Steve rubbing your shoulders while your body twitches. So overstimulated yet always craving more. You were pretty sure the three of you could go for a week straight and it still wouldn’t be enough. They were addicting. 

Steve’s walking over to flip the record that had long stopped playing music. The silence once again being filled as you pull back to give Robin this sleepy in love little smile. “Lemmie take care of you.” You’re gently pushing back against her shoulders, smiling down at her as she falls back against the sheets. Her fingers are making quick work of loosening the harness before kicking it off of her body. 

Her hand’s cupping the back of your neck as you get to your favorite spot between her thighs. You have, maybe, five minutes left of energy before the night’s events have you falling asleep for at least an hour. Robin deserves every second of those five minutes. 

She is soaked. You moan against her folds, the vibrations instantly making Robin rock herself up against your mouth. “Please. I’m close from that damn harness rubbing against me. I took care of you, Baby. Show me how grateful you are and make me come against that beautiful face.”

You’re licking her out with a passion after that. Robin’s thighs are closing around your head, keeping you in place as if there’s anywhere else you’d rather be. One of your arms comes up under her body, swirling a fingertip around her hole before pressing inside of her at the same time you’re wrapping your lips around her clit and gently pulling back against the sensitive bundle. The sounds Robin’s pussy are making... It’s unholy. She’s a mumbling mess as you draw our her orgasm. 

“Only ever this wet for you. It’s only you. Drives me fucking crazy but you’re all I can think about. Eating me out so good, Baby. Oh fuck.” Then your favorite. Robin’s broken as you push another finger into her, your tongue licking around the edge of her hole as you work your fingers. “Thank you, oh thank you for taking care of me. Shit! I’m so close. So close for you.”

Robin’s thighs tighten even more around your head as she jerks her hips up against your mouth. She’s gushing into your mouth and it’s filthy and you’re savoring every second of licking her up. 

After a minute of your undivided attention on her sensitive core, it’s finally Robin’s turn to pull her hips away from you. “You’re going to make me cry if you don’t stop.” She’s overstimulated because of you. Something about getting either of them off always boosts your ego. Making your chest swell with pride as you break them apart in ways only you know. 

You’re smirking against Robin’s thigh, dragging your body up until you fall into the bed next to her. Both of you spent. 

Steve’s walking in a few seconds later, tossing two cold water bottles onto the bed. Taking care of his girls. He’s got these boxer briefs slung low on his hips and your clit gives this painful throb at the sight. “Such a pretty boy, Stevie.” 

He’s giving you a wink, “Your pretty boy,” reaching over to squeeze your foot before taking a drink of his own bottle. Steve’s tossing Robin her discarded graphic t-shirt and fishes a shirt of yours that was left behind one night out of his closet. One of Steve’s love languages is Acts of Service, the other being Words of Affirmation. This situation? Peak for him to express those parts of himself.

You feel the bed dip as he climbs in on the side of you that isn’t occupied by Robin. Throwing an arm across your chest and pulling you in for a kiss. The three of you lay like that, trying to catch your body back up to the present moment. 

Steve’s voice breaks the silence, snapping you out of your half asleep state. “We’re laying here five more minutes and then we need to take care of this room. It reeks of sex, my sheets are sticky, and the two of you need to pee because I swear to God if either of you get a uti I don’t want to hear about it.” He saw one article stating that sex can cause women to get uti’s if they aren’t careful and hasn’t let it go.

Robin’s slamming her hands down against the bed with a “Gross, Steve! Jesus!” You’re laughing, playfully poking Robin’s side as she grins over at you. “He’s disgusting.” To which you hear, “I’m disgusting? For worrying about vaginal health? Considering I’m laying in bed with two vaginas I think that’s pretty considerate of me. Maybe you’re the disgusting one, Robin.”

Just like that the three of you settle back into your typical banter. Somehow you’re drifting back off to sleep, snug between the two who are still going back and forth about which genitalia is cleaner. Robin’s a firm believer that foreskin is worse than a vagina, and Steve’s just trying to explain he was attempting to be caring. 

-

You’re not sure how long you doze off for, but when you come back to the present you find that Robin’s freshly showered and smells like the body wash you left at Steve’s. That discovery tugging a deep part of your heart. The shower’s still running and you can only assume your missing boyfriend’s in there. “He’s gonna be a few more minutes. Wanted to let you wake up so you can get in next. We’re gonna order dinner and then cut Steve’s hair. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Steve’s singing in the shower, so loud and obnoxious on purpose. As you glance between Robin who’s stripping the bed of it’s sheets and the bathroom where Steve’s still belting Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie! you know in that moment that you’re fully in love with two of the biggest idiots in the world. 

[romanarose]

Darkness on the Edge of Town: Epilouge

Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 : Chapter 3: Chapter 4 Masterlist Join my taglist

Fic Summary: Right before a mandatory FEDRA lockdown, Joel saved a woman in an ally from FEDRA guards and is forced to house her for the entire lockdown. I.e theres only one bed

Chapter Summary: Joel get's you out.

Warnings: Mostly just feas of potential SA, nothing that actually happens or is anything to be afraid of, mostly in reference to women being nervous around strange men

Immersability: Reader has no age gap, is implied to be approximately Joel's age, possibly older than Tommy. Is not concerned about pregnancy.

A/N: For readers of The Wrong Way on ym alt account, theres a few not so subtle easter eggs LMFAOOOO

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

Tommy proved a lot easier to talk to, at least compared to Joel’s initial reaction to you. Still, you didn’t feel as comfortable with Tommy as you did by the end of your time with Joel. He was nice, friendly. Tommy was given a vehicle which made the journey shorter… if you knew where you were going. You realize the insanity of traveling across the country with a man you didn’t know, but what options did you have? He was safer than Ross to be sure. You had weighed the options before you left.

Joel told you the plan, that his brother would get you out, take you with him where he was going and leave you somewhere safe. Tommy had promised Joel it was somewhere safe, but wouldn’t tell him where. That was the deal, Tommy wouldn’t be telling Joel anything. He was supposed to check in with the fireflies and they would tell him updates that he was safe, and you were safe, but that was it. Then, Tommy would come back to Boston without you, and Joel wasn’t supposed to talk to Tommy ever again. The secrecy made you nervous, but Joel trusted Tommy completely. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that Tommy would get you to safety and that Tommy wouldn’t hurt you.

The other option was Ross. Ross, and whoever Ross let at you. You couldn’t fight off a gang of men, no matter how strong you were, how physically capable. 10 men were 10 men. Even if Tommy wanted something in return for taking you, you wouldn’t be thrilled but laying there and taking it was a more desirable to the alternative of Ross. Still, for days Tommy didn’t give any indication that he had any dark plans. 

He didn’t even seem like you were of any interest to him. You never caught him sneaking a peak when you relieved yourself or bathed, he never hinted or asked any inappropriate questions. He seemed a lot like Joel in that sense. Honestly, under different circumstances, you would have initiated sex. He was attractive, he was charming, and a lot of fun to be around. Sex to you wasn’t a huge deal, especially at your age. That’s why you were so ready to sleep with Joel…

But right now, you still felt loyal to him . Joel saved you multiple times, but you genuinely connected to him. Sure, maybe he already slept with someone. You two had no pretense of being an actual couple, of any sort of loyalty. It was something to fill the time, and boy, did it fill you. You would need a little time before you went for someone else.

“Whatever you wanna know, you can just ask me.” You said Tommy one night a few days in as the two of you reclined the car seats. It was getting colder out, so you and Tommy scooted towards each other and shared a blanket. There wasn’t an air of sexual tension, even with your shoulders touching. It just felt brotherly. You had felt his eyes on you for a while as you tried to sleep. “I know you got questions.”

His voice was gravely next to you. “I think you got a few too.”

You sigh. “I’m not sure I want the answers.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

Finally, you open your eyes and turn over to where he’s looking at you, eyes soft and brown. “C’mon. Question for question.”

“You start.”

“You’re the one staring at me with your puppy dog eyes all the fucking time. Go on, ask what I know you’re dying to.”

He rolled his eyes, sitting up and resting on his arm, but smiling gently. “Alrighty, I’ll bite. Who are you to Joel.”

A small shrug. “I’m not sure I’m anything, really. He saved me from Ross, as you know, and we got stuck in his apartment for a week.”

Tommy’s face grew more serious. “‘N he was good to yuh?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Real good.” Teasing him, you lean in with a smile. “And we fucked, too.”

“UGH!” Tommy groans, cringing hard and making a disgusted face, shoving you away. “Sick. Awful.”

You laugh at his reaction, goading him on more. “It wasn’t awful, it was actually pretty damn great-”

“EW!” Tommy attempts to cover your mouth, laughing along now too.

You keep dodging his hand. “Got reeeeeal hot and heavy too-”

“BLEH!”

When you finally stop, you both are chuckling. You like Tommy, you’re glad he’s the one taking you if it couldn’t be Joel. As you two settle down, you both stare up at the ceiling. It was peaceful out here. South Dakota, along I-90. When you’d get to Rapid City, Tommy would radio the Fireflies to tell Joel you both were safe. If you were lucky, Joel might have given them a message to give you two, but you weren’t sure the fireflies would pass it along. You got the feeling Joel was not popular among them.

Tommy calls your name, and you look towards him again. “He make you do any of that?” It’s clear what Tommy’s asking, and you understand his concerns. 

“Oh god no.” You chuckle in response. “I brought it up. I had to tell him multiple times that i didn’t feel forced or noth’n. Like, multiple times. And then it just…”

“It's just what.”

You shrug again. “Turned into someth’n more. I dunno. But he was good to me. Don’t you worry ’bout that.”

He nods, taking it all in. “Alright, your turn.”

“Hm? Oh, right. Well… you told Joel… well, you made it sound like he did a lot of bad shit.”

Tommy sighs, sinking further in his seat. “Yeah, I did. Joel and I… we did a lot of bad shit back in the day. The things I saw him do…” He shakes his head. “I can’t even look at him now.”

“He see you do shit too?” You ask.

He huffs, but says yeah.

“He do worse than you?”

Tommy shifts in his seat. “I donno.”

You let him sit in his thoughts for a moment before speaking again. “I ain’t gonna tell you what you gotta do or who you gotta talk to. I don’t know your story. But I know we’ve all done fuck up things… and I know Joel loves you. Whatever happened, he ain’t surviving for himself. There's too much pain in his eyes for that. Joel… he survives for others. I ain’t tryna guilt trip you, Tommy… but I think we’re both alive because of him.”

Tommy didn’t say anything, simply staring ahead at the windshield until you fell asleep. You don’t think he slept much that night.

*

It had been years, your life at the QZ felt like a miserable nightmare. Life was good in Jackson.

You worked hard, but were rewarded with a bountiful life and good friends, Tommy remained one of them. When you and Tommy found the settlement of Jackson, it didn’t take long at all for the two of you to decide to abandon Tommy’s plans and loyalties with the Fireflies and settle here in Jackson. The fact he’d be caught spending every free second during your respite with the pretty and slightly scary leader may have influenced his decision. You, however, were thrilled to be somewhere with running water and electricity, especially with summer coming. You could not be happier with your choice.

Right now, however, you were grumpy.

Sick with the flu, you’d been stuck at home all day while the town had its movie night. Goddammit. You always miss the good shit. Lorenzo had told you to just go, but you didn’t want to infect anyone. A simple flu could kill much easier without modern medicine. 

Still, he was nice enough to bring you soup from the mess hall after.

“Can’t stay long. Zach wants me home early to get a good nights sleep ‘for once’.” Lorenzo rolled his eyes and did finger quotes, but with a smile. His husband loved and cared about him, as Lorenzo did Zach “I just thought I’d let you in on the hot gossip.” He said with a smile, pulling out two joints and handing one to you. 

You sniffle, sounding congested as hell as you rock in your rocking chair. “Did Jack get dumped again? I swear to god, it’s every week. Maura told me in high school he-”

“No, no, no! It’s even better!” He said with a grin, not hesitating before lighting up in your living room, a motion which you followed. “A stranger rolls into town, tall! Dark! Handsome!”

You can’t help roll your eyes. “You're married.”

“Hey, Zach called him handsome first, okay?” Lorenzo’s thick Boston accent came out even more when he was animated. “Anyway, he’s a father too. Road in with a teenager I dunno, 17? Or 10?”

“Those are wildly different ages.”

Lorenzo brushed you off. “Whatever, point is, single father. That's hot.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Are we sure that’s his daughter? Not some sicko we gotta kill?”

“Now, see, I ASKED THAT!” Lorenzo waves his hands around. “But Zach asked Jack who asked Maura who asked Maria-” Deep breath. “Who was suuuuuuper fucking cryptic about it. Seems Tommy knows him, and you know how Tommy is about his past.”

You did know, actually. You lean in with a smile, happy someone is filling you in on what you missed. “What’d she say?”

“Just that the girls his kid, and she’s taken care of and” More finger quotes “‘Tell Lorenzo to mind his damn business’”

That made both of you laugh. You and Lorenzo frequently caused problems despite your age. All in good, harmless fun, but the two of you were more like teenagers sometimes, and more often than not, you dragged a few friends into it.

“Are they staying in Jackson?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. Dunno why though, nice place for a kid here. But maybe her mom is somewhere out there. Either way, I’m gonna try and talk to him tomorrow, maybe-”

A knock on the door. Lorenzo frowned. “Damn honey, you got friends other than me?”

“Oh shut the fuck up.” You giggle, kicking him. “Answer the door for me, I’m sick and dying.”

Lorenzo kicked you back, but did as you asked. You couldn’t see who was there, but watched Lorenzo. “Oh. Uh. Hello?” 

“Renzo, whose there?” You call. Lorenzo turns around, mouthing dramatically. ‘Oh my gooooood’

He turns back. “Can I help you?” You don’t hear the reply, but Lorenzo keeps a hand on the door handle and on the frame. Goofy gossip he is, he is no idiot and takes your safety seriously. He’s not just going to let anyone inside. Lorenzo turns around to face you again. “Hey, you know a Joel?”

Joel. Blood rushes through you and you stand up, wobbly. The man from Tommy’s past is Joel. Who the hell is the kid? Him and Tess have a secret daughter or something? You hadn’t told Lorenzo, or anyone for that matter, of how you escaped the QZ out of respect for Tommy and his desire to leave that life behind him, so it’s no wonder Lorenzo looked so confused. “JOEL?!” 

A tall, insanely broad body pushed past Lorenzo, and you ran to him despite your illness. Joel calls your name, breathes it out like a sigh of relief, a breath he’s been holding since you left.

*

It had been a long day for Joel. Seeing Tommy again was incredible, Gods grace, and knowing he was not only alive but thriving healed something in him.

You were the cherry on top of the sundae. 

He held out no hope that you’d remained single. It would be selfish and stupid… but he couldn’t deny to himself that he was relieved when you explained the man who opened the door to your home was not only not a husband or boyfriend, but married himself and not a threat.

Joel sat on the couch and was thrilled when you immediately scooted right next to him. You spent hours catching up, he explained it all to you, everything with Ellie, how he got here. All the loss… In turn, you told him your travels with Tommy, the life you have here now… And how you’re single. Finally, Joel explained why he came here.

Originally, when Tommy said you were here, he wasn’t going to try and find you. It’d just hurt too much to say goodbye again when he’d already to leaving Tommy… but then he decided he wasn’t leaving, that Tommy would take Ellie… then the fight with Ellie. He needed you. Joel explained the fight.

“Joel…” You said, admonishing him gently and you stroked his hair. Joel was laid out on your lap.

“I know, I know… I just… It’s like that book.”

He can feel your stomach chuckle. “White Fang, I know the one.”

“Yeah. That one. I just… I felt like I had to hurt her, to get her to let go on me. Tommy would be better. He’s younger, stronger, kinder.”

“But he’s not you.” You wait until Joel looks up at you. “You’ve protected her this far. She trusts you. She don’t know Tommy at all and baby.” You card your fingers through his curls. “He’s a man she doesn’t know. That’s a scary thing, she don’t know what kind of man he is.”

Joel starts to sit up, defensive. “Tommy ain’t no-”

“Baby, relax, I know.” You settle him down, de-ruffle his feathers. “I know, Tommy’s the sweetest piece of pie. But she don’t know that. Most importantly, she trusts you . She loves you .” You lean down to kiss his forehead. “I’d love for you to stay here with me, I really would, and if you want, I’ll be waiting here for you. But I think you know what you need to do.”

*

He did. He had to give her a choice. Unsurprisingly and illogically, Ellie chose him. Joel swore he’d come back to you, that he’d make things right with Ellie and get her where she needed to be…

When he thought he was dying, it was Ellie, Tommy, Sarah, you who ran through his head.

And months later, after all the violence and carnage and almost losing Ellie twice, when he walked into town, after seeing and hugging Tommy and meeting his little niece, Catherine Sarah, it was you he went searching for. 

Unsurprisingly, he found you at the bar with Lorenzo again, and who he later found was Lorenzo’s husband, Zach. Throughout the years, Joel would get to know your friends, and consider them friends of his own. He’d marry you, Tommy standing as his best man and your close friend both, little Catherine as your flower girl. You’d get to know and love Ellie, provide the maternal figure she needed in her life and a mediation between the two when things got tense. He’d fuck you into the mattress that night and you’d ride him for what seemed like hour the next morning, spending a day in bed until both of you were too aching a raw to go again. That would all come latter.

Right now, as he approached you from behind and Lorenzo not to subtly kicked you, to make you turn around, only one thing mattered.

“Joel!”

“Hey baby, can I have this dance?”

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

sweetiiiieeesssss

Anyway yall theres your happy ending you wanted!!!!

Now were all wrapped up.

if you didnt see, I'm doing commissions bc im a lil tight on finances rn, so if you like my work, consider buying a piece! they start at $5!

@trinkets01 @ninebluehearts @luciannadraven33 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @buriednurbckyrd @hiroikegawa @whatthefishh @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @koshkaj-blog @daddysfavoritesexkitten @csara615 @notesonpretty @kirsteng42 @mundivagantsoul @harriedandharassed @sofiparellel @orcasoul @noisynightmarepoetry

[sorenphelps]

All the artwork I made for the fanfic Crazy Ex-Boyfriend by @amethystheart2421 for this year's @rsbigbang!

It was a wild run, we got paired up quite late due to our original pairs dropping out of the Bang, and even though it was already December and time was running thin, I decided to make this whole deal a way bigger challenge than it supposed to be... So I ended up drawing all 7 fantasy sequences, trying to mimic a different style for all of them, and finishing both versions of the banners I had in mind. I know, I know, but I swear even I wasn't aware that I am such an overachiever either!

Also, I usually like to hide little details as easter eggs on all of my artwork, so naturally this was the case with these too. I'm gonna list them one by one, also share a little story about each piece, sort of like a "directors cut werk", just so we stick to the screenplay motif. The numbers in brackets lists the order in which I drew the pictures.

The banners (1.,9.): I haven't watched Crazy Ex-Girlfriend the show, so I really had no idea about this whole thing, hence my initial idea of re-drawing one of the official promo posters of the show as the banner. But then Nicole shared the first scene with me when we got paired up, and also told me that her original artist wanted to draw the stargazing scene, which I also really liked. I sketched out both versions to see which one would look better, and also to warm up a bit for this version of the characters. (Nicole also shared some faceclaims, so except Sirius' and Lily's design, I tried to stick to her vision as much as I could.) The Netflix poster was considered the final one for quite a while. The stargazing banner was the last piece of artwork I finished, which I also edited to be used as Chapter dividers. I liked the idea so much I actually referenced the starry sky on the other pictures too. On the Netflix banner, Remus' socks and Sirius' suit handkerchief (how do you call those things in English, gahh) both have the starry pattern.

The western (3.): By this time it was decided that I'd do all fantasy sequences in a different art style, but I couldn't really come up with any specific style which could have fit the western vibes, so the characters are drawn in my own usual style, only the colouring is different. I tried to go for a sepia effect, without using a filter, I think I could pull it off well enough. I was considering to draw Sirius as a Native American for this, because I just don't see him as Caucasian in general, and also, Black Dog sounds like a badly translated indigenous name... But I discarded this idea for the sake of "historical accuracy" (and to save time, haha), as I think they wouldn't visit a saloon this way. I added the starry sky pattern to Sirius' handkerchief and... scarf? (I really should learn how certain textil items are called in English...) There is a wanted poster in the background with Voldy. And I swear I didn't mean to draw Remus looking this horny, it just kinda happened by accident! He is sure VERY fascinated by Sirius'... pistol.😜

The Star Trek (6.): My original idea was to draw like usual and just add so many lensflares to the picture that it's not visible if I copied another style or not. But in the meantime I started to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds with my bf and also found out that there is a new cartoon too, so it was then settled. This style is very different from my own, but it was so much fun! It was weird not to draw every single strand of hair in excruciating detail, actually that was the hardest part, haha! I struggled a bit with the placement of the lensflares too, the first version had too many and too bright, it had a disco vibe rather than a spaceship. I wanted to add easter eggs to the background screen, but I was running out of time, so there's only one light blue star similar on the screen! Also now I know that the uniform colors are not really consistent in Star Trek, and Remus’ might have had to be gold as Captain…🤷🏻‍♀️

The Disney (2.): This one sparked the first idea in my head after I read all fantasy scenes Nicole kindly shared with me. When I first sketched this, I still had no idea that I will end up drawing for every chapter and the style copying was not settled either. It started with this piece, I had the vision of the wolf chasing scene from Beauty and the Beast, and we were discussing whether it's plausible to collect berries during the winter or not... I've tried to make the final piece look as classic Disney as I can, and since I could pull it off, it was not a question anymore whether I'd try to do this with other styles for the other scenes. Retrospectively, this one was the easiest to make, apparently my usual style is not that far from Disney (I grew up watching those movies, so it's not a surprise), but I had to really focus on drawing the animals, it's been ages since I last drew any! (The trick is to give them eyebrows, and bam, it's Disney style!) Sirius' armour, clothes and sword has the star, and I also designed his own "crest" with the black dog and a star on his shoulder plate. The whole concept of the picture is Sirius' side being very bright coloured, while Remus' with the scary wolves in the background being very dark. This might have worked better if it was not set in the winter, but I wanted to stick to the Beauty and the Beast vision I had.

The Comicbook (4.): I was very excited for this one, I really like the looks of the old Batman the animated series, and the way some of his comics are drawn. It's such a unique style, I really like the simple shapes and bold contrasts. Well, it turned out I am very bad at this! I struggled quite a bit trying to capture what I had in mind, but I couldn't even come close to it... So I kinda cheated a bit because I just traced the lineart directly from the reference pictures of Batman comic books I found online. I tried to make Remus less buff, but it looked very weird, so I let him keep his muscular Batman body instead. I drew the wolf mask and the whole Sirius panel, and the coloring went smoothly after I finalized the lineart, even though I only realized that I switched the colour schemes of Remus' superhero outfit when I looked up the quotes for the comic panels, oops. Overall I like how it looks, but I am not that proud of it as I had to "cheat".

The Hobbit (5.): I've probably spent the most time with this one! I actually really like Martin Freeman as an older Remus FC, so I was quite excited to do this piece. My original idea was to mimic John Howe's style, as he is the Tolkien illustrator god, but his level of skill and mine are very very far from each other... and as I struggled a lot with the Batman piece, I felt like going for a smaller challenge. That's why I decided to have a go at Alphonse Mucha's art nouveau style. Turned out it was the worst possible idea! 🤣 The whole point of art nouveau is depicting attractive ladies in an ethereal way... But if you switch the ladies with a fat hobbit, the vibe def won't be the same! The first version just looks so extremely absurd, it's both awful and hilarious. By the time I could fix the pose so it wouldn't look as ridiculous, the final style looked nothing like art nouveau... I still have no idea what style it is now, not my own or any of the ones I tried to capture, that's for sure. I considered adding the star pattern to that tablecloth, but I decided that the lupin flowers in the foreground and the whomping willow-like tree are enough reference for this pic! I like how it turned out in the end tho, I think I could do justice for the watercolor-looking coloring technique, and the end result looks a bit like a fancier version of old children's book illustrations... Which is essentially what The Hobbit is, so it all sorted itself out by the end.

The Anime (7.): I like anime (I'm a little picky about them tho), so it was not a question that I would give this style a try! I am a huge fan of cyberpunk (the genre), so initially wanted to do that, I'm such a slut for Ghost in the Shell and I really like the aesthetics of the Akira posters, but after reading the actual scene, it was not really fitting. So I saved the cyberpunk AU for later, and went for the post-apocalyptic vibe instead. Obviously anime had a great influence on my art style, so similar to the Disney one, it was not that much of a challenge to mimic it. However I'm not that good at drawing backgrounds, and oh boy, I really made myself get over this obstacle with this series of pictures! Also as I was more comfortable with this piece, I actually added the starry sky pattern from the beginning to the scarf/blanket Remus has on this picture!

The Sitcom (8.): The original idea was to copy Hanna Barbera's old family cartoons' style, but as my deadline was very close and after reading the scene I realized that it will have a shitton of characters, I quickly abandoned my original plan. So this one is drawn in my own style, sort of, the designs of the characters are more aligned with Nicole's vision (sans Sirius, Lily, and partly Peter). The hardest part was definitely to figure out how I could fit 10 characters into one picture, let alone sitting in a living room! Also, I had to actually draw the living room too, considering perspective and scaling... Something I am not that good at. In the end the coffee table is maybe a little too big, but I needed that to hide the legs of the characters sitting on the sofa, haha! Also, the sofa is the Millennial Dark Green Velvet Sofa, because I also want to have one and it really emphasizes the general existential dread! (Just kidding.) Also also, I just realized that I have no idea how to eat tacos without making a mess (they are not that popular where I live). I added the starry sky pattern to Sirius' shirt, and gave a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt to Peter, as he is talking about that in the scene. I wanted to squeeze in further references to the newspaper Remus is holding, but it was too tiny. The star from Knight Sirius' armour is in the background on the bookshelf. Also that globe just makes no sense but I had no better idea how to fill the empty space 😅. Molly is holding a mug with "BEST MOM" written on it, and I intentionally made Marlene's eye colour the same as Remus', who btw should have worn a bathrobe according to the original scene, but it was too late to fix that by the time I realized it. All in all, I am quite satisfied with how it turned out, it has the necessary sitcom vibes. And it is kinda a record for me in terms of number of characters drawn (the most was 12, but that one has no background, so I'd call it a tie!)!! I am very proud of myself for pulling this piece off, it really is the achievement of the year!

TLDR; (I mean really, my rambling is just too long!) I am happy that I was paired up with Nicole, working with her was such a creative process! My absolute favourite thing to do is work on AUs, and she has provided me with the opportunity to do so, I am grateful! It was truly a pleasure to participate in this (even if it's not that clear from all the complaining I just had above, haha)! If you ask me nicely I might show you the cursed first version of the hobbit picture!

[superblysubpar]

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

We'll Call It Love Masterlist | song inspiration

7.1k words | 18+ NSFW

A/N: While this takes place in the middle of the series (a moment in time during Part 2: Cutie), I think it's actually kind of fun to read this after the first three chapters, little easter eggs and what not. I hope you enjoy this and thanks for your patience in waiting for this story! Part 4, 5 and the Epilogue are coming soon! 💛

Warnings: This story takes place in the middle of chapter two to my series "We'll Call It Love" linked above. | modern!steve | reader and steve drink wine | descriptions of wearing some of Steve's clothes, but size is not talked about | Reader likes sunsets, spiderman, and she never finished her college degree | SMUT (PIV unprotected intercourse) / public (on Steve's balcony - you are semi-caught)

The alarm didn’t go off on time, your shampoo got in your eyes, the toast was burnt, and your pantyhose and skirt were too tight - you don’t even want to start on the heels and the blister forming because of them. Not even the worst of it, because of course your boss yells at you in front of everyone, you spilt coffee on important documents, spent hours transcribing them, only for your boss to say she didn’t need them and watched as they landed inside the trash can as your soul left your body. Security lights and the glowing fish tank in the front room are your only company for the last two hours of your day as you fix mistakes and make calls, willing the bad day to just be over already. 

Where you end up after a day like this doesn’t matter - it doesn’t mean anything. 

Maybe there’s nothing wrong with reading the text from him asking if you’d like to come over and tell him more about it when you’ve already started driving there. 

It’s not like you’re wanting the comfort this sort of gesture implies. No, it’s just a distraction, an attempt to salvage this horrible day with one thing - sex. Just ‘turn your brain off and let him help you forget the day’ sex. That’s all. 

And it’s not like it’s a crime that the sight of Steve at the end of his hallway holding a very full glass of wine out for you makes your chest ache a little - you’ve had a bad fucking day, of course something like that makes you a little mushy. It doesn’t mean anything when your mouth splits into a grin to mirror his when he sees you. 

Steve leans against his doorframe, his perfectly gelled and sprayed caramel locks set free from their styled position they’ve been trapped in all day. One hand scratches at his jaw, the dark scruff underneath at the length you won’t admit to him is your favorite. A navy dress shirt stretches across his shoulders, sleeves cuffed and rolled up his forearms. A few of the buttons are already undone, revealing a black undershirt, all tucked into his belt and gray slacks with perfect ironed creases. His feet cross as he leans back, the gold line across the black fabric reminding you that most likely, just his socks cost more than your whole outfit combined. 

“So, rough day?” He extends the glass further towards you, the silver metal of his watch glinting in the soft hallway lighting. Taking the glass from him, you gulp down half of it far too quickly for what you’re sure is an expensive bottle of wine, brushing past him into the apartment. 

“You have no idea,” swallowing another large gulp before answering. A sigh meeting a groan leaves you as your bag drops to the ground loudly. You kick off the heels you really should just throw out - well past their worn in phase and still giving you trouble. 

“Actually,” Steve laughs as he locks the door behind him, “I do. You sort of texted me a live play-by-play all day.”

Your hand waves off the statement, ignoring the truth of it with a hum around another sip of wine. Steve starts to walk around you, his hand brushing your lower back. Blunt ends of his fingernails scratch softly through the thin fabric of your blouse as your senses tune into the altered state of his apartment. The lighting more dim than usual, overhead lights turned down to a muted glow, aided by the warmth of candles flickering on his island and in the living room. Music drifts quietly and lazily out of speakers and through the air - music you like - mingling with something that smells so good your mouth waters a little. 

The glass of wine pauses before meeting your lips again as you watch Steve pick up a knife. He chops the last part of something green and leafy, brushing the food off the wood cutting board with the back of his knife into a pan that sizzles. Garlic and onion and something herby meet your nose, drawing your bottom lip to pull under your teeth. Or maybe it’s the way Steve stares at the pan with concentration, humming along to the music you only just introduced him to. He stirs the ingredients, forearm flexing as he turns the handle of the pan to the side, knocking the wooden spoon against the lip of metal a few times. 

“You cook?” Questioning him quietly from your spot by the door. 

Steve looks over his shoulder, a fake frown pulling his lips down that a smile tries to fight. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Not surprised,” you hedge, padding over towards him slowly, “Just…impressed. I don’t know if anyone has cooked for me before.”

He looks up at you, eyebrows bunching together, whatever thoughts swirling inside his brain cut off when you kiss his cheek. Steve blinks at the gesture as you wave your hand over his apartment and ask, “You did all this ‘cause I had a bad day, Harrington?”

Steve’s cheeks turn rosy despite his eye roll and laugh around a mumbled, “It’s just spaghetti.”

“Well,” you smile, noting the simple kiss and its effects for future use. Eager and curious to find out what else you can do and say to get him to blush so you can use it to your advantage, “Big fan of just spaghetti here. Thank you.”

Your wine glass hits the counter with a soft clink as your hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes, smirking as his cheeks turn a deeper pink. 

When you face him fully, Steve is already watching you, eyes tracing over your face when his lips twitch up on one side - you pushed it too far and now he’s onto you. This sort of teasing and battle for who can make the other squirm more has been the fire that’s fueled your last few nights together. 

Steve leans in slowly, his hand reaching up and cupping your jaw as he does. His thumb traces over the apple of your cheek, his warm breath hits your lips as your eyelashes flutter. Steve’s voice turns gruff and deeper because he knows it works you up as he asks, “You sleeping over tonight?”

Your head shakes despite wanting to nod as his other hand finds your waist. The smell of dinner and Steve’s spice and woodsy cologne making you dizzy as you try to stay steady in your response, “Can’t. Didn’t bring any clothes.”

Steve hums, the sound buzzing into your skin as his nose brushes up yours slowly. His hand on your waist pulls you in closer, wrapping around and pressing his palm to your lower back. His breath out mixes with yours in as your hands move on their own accord, climbing up his chest and to the collar of his shirt. His eyes a dark forest and liquid gold, smoldering as his gaze meets yours. 

“I’ll order you clothes for tomorrow.”

The ease and confidence of his promise is enough to make your stomach flip with excitement, but your eyes roll from the absurdity. Your laugh, a mixture of disbelieving and amused, is cut off though when his top lip parts yours. A soft kiss pressed to them that he quickly deepens when he feels you sigh, giving in easily. 

Sweet and tender kisses, his thumb and fingers tilt your jaw for him, making butterflies flutter alive inside of you. Steve and you haven’t kissed like this before, you can feel each shift of his fingers on your jaw and back, how his forehead furrows against yours. Mouths that mold to the others easily, slotted together like gears that work with each other instead of against now. You move with the other like second nature, almost lazy, not worried about the end goal for once, enjoying the taste of his whiskey hitting your wine with each pass of tongues and lips meeting. Until his bottom lip catches your top one in a different way, tongue rolling against yours a little dirty, making your thighs push together. 

Steve’s breath through his nose hits your cheek and your fingers grip at his collar, tugging him closer to you while his hand on your back pushes you against him harder. Soft kisses no longer, now you’re just desperate. His tongue traces your bottom lip, nipping at it gently before sucking on it. Your hands push up his neck and into his hair, fingers combing through the strands and tugging lightly as he takes a breath. It’s all so easy, the push and pull with each other, learning and using what the other likes. A whimper escapes you as his hands move to cup your face, slowing you both down, until he’s pulling away completely. 

Your eyes blink rapidly as you come back to the room, forgetting where you were for a brief moment. As his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, the sight of his eyes taken over by his pupils makes your spine radiate with heat. His fingers curl under your jaw with a firm grip on your chin as he gives you one more chaste peck. 

“Stay.”

The word is one you can’t help but chase, turning towards his lips again in search for more. Your kiss meets the corner of his mouth that threatens to smile - you hate that he’s winning. 

“Fine. But only because this wine is really good and I intend to drink the whole bottle.”

Steve’s smile kisses your skin, mouth brushing down your neck in a tantalizing graze, the scruff on his face tickling as he moves lower. “Of course. No other reason, I understand.”

He presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear and your eyes practically roll all the way back, toes scrunching against the tile of his kitchen floor as your breath gets caught in your chest. Steve clocks the spot and your reaction, a low rumble from deep in his own chest as he mouths at your neck, returning to his new toy he’s found when you gasp. Wet lips and warm breath pull goosebumps to the surface of your skin, and his nose nudging behind your ear has your entire body on fire. 

Your hands push at his shoulders with a nervous laugh, forcing it all to slow down so you can regain some sort of composure and  have a chance at beating him at this game. 

“Okay, okay, I need a shower. How long till dinner is ready?”

Steve blinks at your words, hand in his hair roughing it up more as he clears his throat and stares down at your body still pressed to his, pretending not to be just as worked up as you are. “Uh, yeah, yes. Like twenty minutes.”

Pressing a quick teasing kiss to his mouth, you start to back away and he follows, hands wrapping around and clasping behind your back with a grin that says nice try.  

“Steve,” his name a laugh on your lips as he dips down to your neck again, attacking it with frantic kisses.

“Hmm?” His teeth drag on your earlobe and he smiles against your jaw as you shiver. 

“Just…” your words trail off as he starts to suck a bruise into the spot he just found, causing your eyelashes to flutter. His mouth presses another hot and wet kiss to your skin, tongue swirling and soothing the darkening mark. His hands roam up your back as you arch for him. 

It’s your turn to blink again as he stops abruptly, giving you a kiss on your nose before spinning you towards his room. “Go shower already, you stink.” He gives your ass a light pat and nudge forward.  

Your eye roll is hidden, but your hands press to your cheeks in an effort to calm down as you walk away. You did come here for sex, maybe you can let him win tonight. 

Steve’s shower is far nicer than your own. The rain head allows the warm water to flow down your entire body smoothly, and as you let your head fall back into the stream, you wonder about the detachable nozzle and how easily you could convince him to come in here and try something. The steam and calming scent of Steve’s cedar and mint shampoo is enough to unfurl your muscles and soothe your frazzled nerves that his kissing had already started to ease. Because it was the kissing and this game you play that relieved the tension inside of you, not just the company. 

The same music in his living room plays from small speakers in his bathroom too, your favorite song coming on not too long after you’ve started the shower, echoing off the dark blue tiles, the ping of water harmonizing with it. A smile twitches on your lips when you hear the added sound of the door creaking open. 

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” Your palm swipes over the glass door, clearing condensation enough to see Steve. His back is to you as he sets a new glass of wine and a fluffy gray towel on his counter. 

“Actually,” he spins, eyes roaming over your naked form he can still catch a glimpse of through the foggy glass. His eyes sparkle as his tongue licks over his top lip, “Just getting your clothes in the washing machine.”

Your shoulders lift to your ears, stomach doing some sort of seesaw thing at the domestic and far too intimate of an act. Your voice is soft and hesitant, almost drowned out by the water, “Steve, you don’t-”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you,” he backs out the open door, pulling it closed as he gestures around the air, “The music. So loud.”

Your eyes roll again, a smile teasing at your lips as the door shuts with a soft click. A furrow forms between your brows though, deepening as you finish your shower. Your lip gnawed between your teeth as you turn the handle off, worrying that maybe you’re getting too comfortable here. 

When you step out of the shower and wrap the still warm from the dryer towel - a sweet touch from Steve - around yourself, the smile you were fighting earlier wins. The sight of Steve’s ‘Hi’ and smiley face in the fog on the mirror is too cute of a distraction to listen to any sort of logic. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, wine in hand, the smell of garlic now mixes with tomato, slipping in through the cracked bedroom door. Steve’s voice trails in quietly with it, “Hi, mom.”

You freeze, eyes widening in horror as this doesn’t seem like the greatest way to meet a Harrington parent - not that you thought about that, or want to, but as a friend of Steve’s you should probably have more clothes on. Your shoulders relax when you don’t hear a new voice responding, but Steve’s sigh and his voice again, only far less enthusiastic, “Oh, hey dad.”

Evidence of your eavesdropping forms in water dripping down your body and darkening his carpet, so, you pad into Steve’s closet, flicking the light on as you go. It’s not the first time you’ve seen the walk-in, but the sight of it still manages to steal the air out of your lungs a little. 

An overwhelming amount of the dark clothing Steve so often wears hangs meticulously in order of style and color. Blues and grays, a few deeper greens you wish he’d wear more, creams, browns, and white, then black. T-shirts then polos then button-downs - simple and nothing that would make anyone take a second glance, but you know from your own fingers that the quality of the material of each item is better than your sheets. 

Your fingertips drift lazily over the garments as you take the opportunity to linger in the space a little longer. They meet the hard edge of a dark wood dresser, a suede, gray box sitting atop. It’s compartments holding ties that are perfectly rolled and tucked into their homes. A matching organizer that holds a high school class ring, two watches - one gold and one with a dark and worn, brown leather band - along with a missing spot for the one he’s wearing. You’re certain that if you opened the drawers of this dresser you’d find his underwear and socks of the softest thread count folded and organized just as nicely - not thrown in haphazardly like your own. 

As you turn to head back for a plain t-shirt, the bright color tucked into the back corner catches your eye. It’s so different from anything in the room, from anything you’ve seen him wear. Your bare feet sink into the plush rug as you make your way to the part of the closet that looks like it doesn’t belong. 

Another small dresser, almost a nightstand, sits over here. You check over your shoulder, Steve’s voice still drifting through the door quietly and you continue inspecting. On top of the dark wood, two CD’s with Robin’s familiar hand-writing listing the songs adorning each disk. A diploma and tassel hanging from the dark frame holding it. Next to that, another framed item, an image of Steve that makes your chest tighten. You don’t think he’s too much younger than he is now in it, a dark blue graduation gown open to reveal jeans and a white button down and black tie, his grad cap squishes down his hair. Steve is shrinking in the picture, cheeks pink and biting his mouth to hide a smile, as Robin and a curly haired boy are both exploding bottles of champagne on opposite sides of him. 

Above the nightstand, the clothes are even more unfamiliar. Jeans that, though folded just as nicely as others in the closet, are a lighter wash and look well loved and worn, not like the dark denim with creases you’re used to seeing him in. Several t-shirts with various concert and event logos now fading and peeling, hang in color order again. A few sweatshirts, one with the same green and orange you know matches Robin’s band sweatshirt she says she’ll die in, sit folded next to the jeans. There’s several sweaters hung, but the culprit of your detour stands out the most. Your fingers rest on it, and as you remove it from the hanger, you’re sure something he must not wear anymore fits your needs tonight more than any of his nicer items. 

It’s not until you walk back out to the kitchen in the bright yellow sweater and a pair of his sweatpants that you think you potentially overstepped. 

Steve stands at the stove, phone pressed to his ear still, the other hovers over the pot, spoon dripping sauce as his mouth falls open. The tips of his ears turn red, matching his cheeks as you fiddle with the hem. His voice faltering into the phone, “Ye-yeah. Yes. I am dad, tonight just wasn’t gonna work.”

He smiles sadly at you, shrugging as he turns his back from the stove, maroon turning to pink on his cheeks. His hand reaches up and runs through his hair as he starts pacing. 

“Uh-huh, yeah, but-” Steve’s mouth clamps shut when he’s obviously interrupted on the other end. 

You begin stirring the sauce when you see it’s bubbling, Steve squeezes your shoulder as he passes, moving his pacing to the living room. He’s changed as well, down to just the black undershirt and dark gray sweats, the orange and yellow candle light flickers across his jaw as it tightens. He picks up a baseball from the wood buffet, fingers curling around it as his thumb spins it in his palm. 

When you glance up, his eyes travel over your body until they meet yours, sighing into the phone as he switches ears again, “Dad, I have to go, can we talk about it a different night?”

His shoulders slump, the baseball returning to the console, rolling across the top until it hits a framed photo. This one of Robin on Steve’s shoulders, pushing his hat down over his face as she tries to climb higher for an apple in a tree. 

Steve stares out the balcony glass doors, his voice strained, “I am, dad, I promise, okay? I just need a little time.” He nods once, “Mhm, bye.”

The phone lands on the counter harshly as he returns, his hand reaching for the wine glass you’re already offering to him. He gulps half of it down, not unsimilar to how you did when you first arrived. 

“So, that was your dad?” Your eyebrows raise as your gaze remains on the sauce. 

“Uh-huh,” he draws it out, sighing again as his forehead falls to your shoulder. 

“Can I ask what all that was about?” You question softly.

Steve’s head lifts, suddenly focused on pouring a second glass of wine and refilling the other as he speaks, “You could,” he turns to one of the cabinets, searching for plates, “But it’s complicated and in my opinion, a waste of one of your questions.”

“Oh really?” 

Steve spins, wincing as he faces you again and holds up two fingers, “Ooh, that’s two.” He pulls at his collar and raises his eyebrows at you expectantly. 

“Nice try,” you steal a plate from him and begin dishing up, “Not eating spaghetti topless for you tonight, Harrington.”

“Oh, but you will some other night?” He smirks, standing next to you. 

“In your dreams,” you laugh, turning to the stove again.

He sighs, long and big, “Only every night,” your snort is cut off as he keeps going, “But actually, speaking of clothes,” he spoons his own pasta onto his plate, “Went into the depths of mine I see.”

Your fingers fiddle with the hem again, recalling his face when you first came out, mood sobering. “The color caught my eye, I’ve never seen you wear this. I can take if off though, if-”

“No,” he says quickly, with a harsh swallow he adds on quietly, “Looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” dipping your head from the way he looks at you when he says it. Like he really means it and wants to see you in it more than tonight. 

Steve leans in, his hands full, so he nudges your temple with his nose until you look up at him. He presses a slower kiss than earlier to your lips, lingering for a moment before clearing his throat and pulling away. He nods his head towards the glass doors “Wanna eat on the balcony? Sunset is soon, and I thought it might be a good ending to the bad day?”

Your chest floods with warmth, something sticky and heavy that makes your mouth unable to work, holding all of your words hostage so all you can do is nod. Steve smiles and heads outside. 

“Mint chocolate chip,” he answers immediately, taking a sip of wine. 

You’re done with dinner, tucked into his small  balcony couch, the sunset has now faded from that early golden glow, tinges of orange and bursts of pink starting to break through the clouds and paint the buildings around you. Steve's legs extend to the small ottoman, yours against his thigh so you can really watch the sky. More than ten questions have been asked, but your clothes are still on, and part of you wants to admit that maybe this is actually what you needed tonight instead of sex. Maybe you just needed to have dinner, talk to a friend, enjoy the sunset. It doesn’t matter that it happened with Steve - the whole point of this was to be friends with benefits, right?

You laugh into your wine glass, “Wow, I so did not peg you as a mint chocolate chip ice cream guy.”

He grabs your ankle, tugging it lightly, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Your shoulders lift in an innocent shrug, “I dunno, you seem kind of vanilla, Steve.”

His eyes narrow and he scoffs, grumbling into his wine glass, “Vanilla. I’ll show you vanilla.”

“What was that?” You grin. 

He rolls his eyes and stands, grabbing your empty plates. “I said, more wine?”

“Sure you did,” you nod, faux belief on your face as you hand up your glass as he passes. 

After the door latches, you pull the sleeves of his sweater down over your palms, standing and moving closer to the ledge. You’ll always love sunsets, but this view has changed them forever for you. The orange and pinks bleed together now, like two tubes of paint exploded across the sky, a perfect summer sunset. Its shimmering reflections in the lake, river, and buildings around you try to steal your breath too - almost as beautiful as the real thing. 

The city below you buzzes with summer nightlife, horns honking and bass thumping as people drive by. One of those Chicago tour boats drifts lazily by and you smirk, remembering the unfortunate yet hilarious story Robin told you about the Dave Matthews bus - so opposite of the moment you’re witnessing now. As the tour passes under the bridge you notice the couple standing in the middle, holding hands. One of them drops lower, and from the way they jump back up and spin around, holding each other, you’re certain you just witnessed a proposal. 

Steve’s shoulder presses against yours and you jump, hand over your chest. 

“Sorry,” he motions behind him, “Thought you heard the door.”

Your heartbeat rapidly pounding in your chest, you glance back to the bridge, but the happy couple is already gone. Shaking your head, you close your eyes, “No, uh, was distracted I guess.”

He eyes you curiously, fingers brushing down your arm, with a smile, “Alright, you asked me the ice cream question, so my turn.”

He spins, finger in the air when the question comes to him, “Favorite superhero?”

“Spiderman,” your answer just as confident and quick as his ice cream response. 

“Interesting,” he rubs at his jaw, “Why?”

Your shoulders shrug as you watch another boat tour go by. The words on the tip of your tongue before your brain fully catches up to them. “Um, I’m not really sure. I guess I always loved that he was kind of alone, but not really. Spiderman was lonely, protecting people he loved who didn’t know he did, but Peter was almost the opposite? He wasn’t ever fully alone despite thinking he was. He was always loved, he was just the one who didn’t see it.”

You don’t realize the power of your answer until it leaves your lips. A small piece of weight you carry lifting easily for Steve like it’s nothing. It’s almost immediate that you wish you hadn’t answered. 

Steve smiles sadly at you, his fingers pushing against the railing and bumping yours as he speaks softly, “That’s a good reason, sounds like you relate to it?”

Your cheek pulls in and you shrug again, clearing your throat and ignoring his prodding. “What about you? Got a favorite superhero?”

Lately, whatever question either of you had come up with ended up being answered by both of you, the conversation flowing that way naturally, so your sidestep of his followup questions isn’t completely out of the ordinary. 

Steve’s hazel eyes bounce between yours, and you know he wants to push it further, to get you talking more, but he doesn’t. He stands up straighter and nods, “Definitely Batman.”

You groan and laugh, shaking your head as he puts his hands on his hips and asks, “What?”

“You would like Batman. He’s not even a real superhero, he’s just rich. He has no powers.”

He points his finger in the air, “First of all, you’re wrong. Second, pretty sure some of the Spiderman comics it’s like the exact same fucking thing, so. And third, I have a good reason why I like him so,” he sticks out his tongue at you.

Your hands fall out, palms facing upward expectantly and he rolls his eyes, ripping at the skin on thumb. “I, well. I think him being an orphan is interesting. I like that he’s seen as a guardian. I don’t know, a lot of reasons…” his voice trails off as a furrow forms between his brows. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You nudge his shoulder, grabbing the wine from him and taking a sip. Both of you touching a sensitive spot in each other with something as simple as superheroes. 

He smiles and nods, eyes focused on the House of Blues lighting up below you. 

Your own eyes watch the pink take over the orange in the sky as you drum your hands on the railing, risking a more serious question despite the mood. “I saw that picture, in your closet? Was that a college graduation? It seemed recent?”

Steve blows his breath out, sipping the wine he takes back from you, sharing the same glass as he nods. He clasps his hands together after you steal it back and stares out at the lake. “Yeah, uh, I didn’t get in, back when Robs went. But,” he licks his lips and squints, “I dunno, got this job from my dad’s connections and I just…wanted to see if I could do it alone? So I did. Sports management. Not a big deal.”

Your hand reaches out to his forearm and squeezes gently. “Steve, that is a big deal. That’s really great.”

He hums and shrugs and you press it even further, “So your parents don’t know? And your job now, that’s not-”

He laughs and drags his hands down his face, “Really, it’s not a big deal, I shouldn’t have even printed that photo. And, and the job, I don’t know. There’s this opportunity this one guy at work told me about, but my parents…” he sighs and his shoulders drop. “No, they don’t know. And my job is great. I don’t need to do anything else.”

You turn and set the wine down, your fingers wrap around his wrist. “Steve, you should have a job you love. Screw your parents or anyone who tells you differently. There’s always a way to figure it out if you want it badly enough. And, it is a big deal. I didn’t finish college. It’s a really cool and amazing thing, you should be really proud about it.”

Steve smiles, tapping the railing, speaking softly, “Thank you.” He turns to face you, hand brushing up your arm to your shoulder. “I didn’t know that about you. The college stuff I mean.”

Stepping closer to him, you shrug. “It’s not like I introduce myself and tell people that, Steve.”

“Well, thanks for telling me.” He takes a step closer too, closing the distance completely so your bodies press together. He smiles, tone lightening the mood, “I’d take off my pants in honor of the information, but I don’t have underwear on and we’re sort of exposed out here.”

Your eyes roll again as your lips fight a smile. He leans in closer, nose bumping yours as you whisper, “Wow. What a slut.”

He smirks. “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.”

Your breath catches in your chest at the quote, his lips pressing to yours softly before you ask, “Wh-what did you say?”

His cheeks turn pink like earlier and he clears his throat, “Uh, I meant like, takes one to know one. Like a slut.” His eyes close and he holds up his hands, “Not that you’re a slut, what I meant was that, see…like in a good way.”

Your heartbeat starts to return to normal and you shake your head, ignoring the connection the quote made inside of you. Interrupting his Robin-like rambling and hoping to get the original plan for the evening back on track with a kiss.

Steves reciprocates quickly, tongue licking at the seam of your lips as you open up for him. Something about the gestures he’s made to fix your bad day tonight, the conversation you just had, has you more desperate than you were originally when you came over tonight. It’s all too complicated and jumbled now, and you just need your brain to turn off, and sex is the way to do that. 

His hand cups your jaw, opening you wider for him as he presses you back into the stone barrier between apartments. He rolls his hips against you, pushing harder when your hands wrap around his neck. Your clasped hands hold yourself up as his hand reaches for your thigh, pulling it up and around his waist, fingernails dragging back up and cupping your ass. Your hands move down his back as he slows his kissing again, teasing his tongue against your top lip. Nails scratch through his shirt as he moves his assault to your neck. Your body pulses around him as the sun sinks lower behind you. Steve holds your chin with his fingers as he says, “Turn around, pretty girl, you’re missing the sunset.”

Your eyes blink wide and slow at his words as he removes your leg from his waist, spinning you towards the railing. The rapid beat of your heart returns as his hands rest on either side of your body and he presses his easily felt erection into your backside. 

Steve’s nose brushes up the back of your neck, his mouth kissing across your skin till he meets your ear. His fingers glide across the band of the sweats, curling around your hip until he pushes under the fabric. 

He huffs into your skin, kissing that spot on your jaw again as two of his fingers push past your clit, slipping over it easily. “Who’s the slut for not wearing underwear, again?”

“Steve,” you whine, not patient for this sort of teasing anymore. 

He kisses down your neck, fingers parting through your slick as he glides up then lower again, the faintest graze to your clit and barely a nudge to your entrance. He tuts into your shoulder, mocking pity in his tone, the cocky man returning easily when he knows you’re this turned on, “Oh, I know. You just had such a bad day. Really need this, yeah?”

You can’t argue with him, fingers curling on the lip of the ledge, stepping closer to it. You’re sure he can feel you gushing around his fingers from just his words, how much his kissing worked you up, but you don’t care. You don’t want to fight it anymore, maybe Steve is worth just giving into. 

“Ye-yes,” you gasp out as he rewards you with figure eights pressed into your clit, your eyelashes fluttering as your knees start to buckle. “Oh, fuck.”

Steve’s breath hitches at your affirmation, kissing over your neck as he increases the strength of each press. A slow, generous circle with the pads of his fingers, rolling over the bead of vibrating nerves with an agonizing and precise pressure and pace.

“Tell me,” he kisses down your jaw, groaning at the roll of your hips back into him. Another press of his lips to your temple as his fingers circle your entrance, “Tell me what you want.”

Your head turns, chasing his kiss, catching his bottom lip with another gasp as he pushes one finger inside of you and curls, “Y-you. I need you. Please.”

Steve and your lips push and pull against each other in a battle now, harsh breaths shared as he nods, agreeing to give you what you want. He slides a second digit inside of you and curls to the spot he finds every time and you shake your head no against his mouth - that’s not what you meant.  

He moans, pressing his body up behind yours harder, back to kissing over your jaw and neck before he’s breathing in your ear. Voice raspy - dirty and filthy and everything you want as he asks, “Oh, not good enough? Jus-Just need me to fuck the bad day out of you?”

“Please,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed at the loss of his fingers slipping out of you, “Fuck me.”

Steve’s forehead hits between your shoulder blades, wide hands pushing at fabric, and you stand on your toes, anticipation radiating throughout your body when you feel his bare length against your folds - sure you have your rules, but breaking them for one night is at the bottom of your list of thing to think about currently. He moves one of your hands to the front of your sweatpants in a silent command to hold them up. Steve nudges at your entrance, your lip tugged between your teeth unable to suppress another whine as he pushes inside slowly. His voice barely audible even in your ear, his breath too fast and too hard, overtaking his words, “Need you to be quiet, honey.”

Your head falls forward, mouth opening in a gasp as he thrusts into you. He stops, a shaky breath leaving him as you both adjust to him filling you up, relishing in the missed feeling of your bodies being connected like this. Patience wears thin though, and you push back against him, your hand gripping the balcony barrier as your eyelashes flutter when he twitches from the movement inside of you. Steve’s hands rest on your waist, holding you steady as he draws out of you, thrusting back up. 

He sets a slow pace, a dirty roll of his hips every few thrusts in and your toes curl against the balcony floor, head falling forward as you struggle not to make a sound. Steve’s mouth drags on your skin, from under one ear to the other, one hand caressing over your curves, shirt rising slightly as he ventures higher. Wide palm cupping one breast as his other holds your hip in a bruising grip. 

“Steve, harder.” Your hand reaches back behind you, yanking on his hair with a whine. Steve pushes you both into the ledge, a growl slipping past his lips. 

Steve’s thrusts pick up their pace and he breathes into your ear, a desperate and primal sound that’s more intimate and better than any sort of moan a man has ever made for you before, your name mingling with quick and short gasps for air. 

Your head falls back against his shoulder as his hand moves from your chest down your stomach, pushing his way past your hand roughly, sweatpants dropping and neither of you caring. Your cry is muffled into his sweat slicked neck as he goes even faster, feeling like he’s so deep you’ll feel it the rest of your life, his fingers press frantic circles to your swollen clit. 

“Fu-fuck, fuck, fuck,” you bite at his shirt collar, both of your hands above you in his hair, stretching onto your toes again, chasing and running away from the feeling about to bubble over.

Every nerve ending inside of you is coiled, at its breaking point - ready to crack. Steve’s hand that’s on your waist lifts, grabbing at your chin, and pulling you towards his mouth as he snaps his hips faster, stuttering their movements as he keeps working at your clit.

Warmth floods your stomach, eyes pressed tight, oranges and pinks from the sunset bursting behind your closed lids as you bite down on his lip, everything inside of you exploding as you release around him.  

“St-Steve!” 

His lips press to yours harsher, trying to silent you as he doesn’t stop his movements. Steve grunts into your mouth, cursing under his breath as his hips go even faster before they falter. His teeth drag across your bottom lip as he finally lets go, his release sending another wave of your orgasm crashing over your body. Stars blink behind your eyelids, breathless as you come back to earth. 

Both of you gasp around each other’s lips as your body tightens then relaxes around him, his hand finally stops its circles to your overwhelmed nerves when you push him away. Sounds of the city return to your ears as your head falls back against his shoulder. Steve’s hands on your waist squeeze as he breathes heavily against your shoulder before kissing it. Both of you wince as he slips out of you. 

He clears his throat as each of you pull your sweats up, his cheeks pink and yours hot. Turning to face him, your back hits the ledge as his hands fall to your sides and cage you in again.  

Steve’s face is lit up orange and gold, eyes shimmering. They’re the color of honey and brown sugar in this fading sunlight, looking at you with a gaze that’s just as gooey as he leans in with a smile. Whispering as he hovers above your lips, “Still having a bad day?”

That same sticky feeling coats your chest as you shake your head no, both of you still breathing heavily. His top lip just skims your bottom one when loudly, from a nearby balcony, the clip from ‘When Harry Met Sally’ plays: 

“I’ll have what she’s having!”

Your hand slaps over your mouth and Steve snorts, both of you dissolving into laughter as you rush back inside.

Your body heats with embarrassment, hands on your cheeks, “Oh my god.”

Steve doesn’t seem as phased, walking further into the apartment. “Hey, that’s a good movie, wanna watch it?” He laughs, running his hand through his hair. 

Any mortification forgotten at his suggestion. You spin, finger in his face, “Aha! Bad 90s romcom, told you I could smell it on you.”

He waves you off, heading toward his bedroom, “Yeah, yeah, go make some popcorn miss can’t keep her mouth shut!”

“Me!” You scoff, following him, “Um, what was all that grunting! And breathing and-”

He cuts you off with a slow and deep kiss. Tongue flicking over yours dirty and rough, pulling away with a sharp inhale. “Tell me you didn’t like it.”

His words freeze you, and you stand together in his apartment, lit only by candlelight and the sunset that’s dipped below your eye line. Breaths mixing, bodies pressed together and Steve kisses the spot below your ear - one slow, sweet kiss that lingers before he pulls away. 

He smirks at your dazed expression, calling over his shoulder, “Your favorite movie snack is in the cupboard!” Disappearing into his bathroom. 

It’s just sex, that’s all this is. 

That’s what you tell yourself as your legs turn from jelly to some sort of working limb as you make the popcorn. 

That’s what you tell yourself as he settles in next to you on his couch, tossing the yellow knit blanket from Robin over your laps. 

That’s what you tell yourself in the morning, when he’s in the shower and a delivery comes with clothes that fit you perfectly. 

It’s just sex. Fun. That’s all this is. 

That’s what you tell yourself as you slip on a brand new pair of heels and he kisses your forehead, reminding you with a wink that his balcony is always open after a bad day. 

WCIL taglist: @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3 @scoopshxrrington @live-the-fangirl-life @eddiesguitarskills @mannstarkey @keepingitlokiii

[avkima]

~invisible strings:jamie flattersxreader~

Chapter 1

Summary: after Bailey drags Reider (reader) to meet Britain’s friends for a little hangout a quick bond is formed between her and Jamie. Doesn’t matter though, she’s so in the friend zone. P.S summary will change chapter to chapter as new info is given

tags:friend groups, Bailey Bass is your bff, Avatar cast, Sam and Zoe are your parents simply because they can be, fluff, friends to lovers, angst, love triangle if you squint, unrequited love but it’s really not, closed door smut. Stay tuned for some Easter eggs of secret characters and plot lines.

wc: 1.2k

tag list↯

@neteyams-wh0re

💌💌💌💌

truly don’t think I’ve lived before I found you.

But it was always meant to be

I never saw the world until I looked into your deep brown eyes.

You were there in the little things, but how had our paths never crossed?

I never felt alive until I felt your touch.

As a connected duet we preform this experience together.

I wish to dance with you forever.

For eternity—

Not just till death do us part.

-jamie flatters

* “Shall I compare the to a summers day?”

“I’m more of a fall to be honest”

——————

I really needed to get out of my dorm. Or at least that’s what Bailey had been telling me when she caught me talking to myself while folding laundry. She would barge in unannounced when she felt the need. Today I had been home alone all day so ranting to myself about horrible Professor Quaritch was inevitable.

“I was winning an argument—now I’m off track” I glance at her as she strolls in.

“Oh my apologies weirdo.” She sits down next to me and begins folding too, “Have you been in here all day? It looks spotless!”

My tiny 250 square foot dorm could be cleaned top to bottom in an hour if I was being a perfectionist about it—or I had neglected it that week. But I wasn’t about to go through my whole list of antisocial activities which only included an hour or two of actual school work.

“Yeah mostly, that and Gilmore Girls”

“You live like you have no friends”

I chuckled, “I live like an introvert who has been with her friends all week!”

She frowned.

Bailey was the most bubbly extrovert I’ve met. Most of the time she was very understanding of our opposing personalities but to be honest I think she saw I was more in the dumps than I was letting on.

“Come on, you need to get your mind off of Chris and have some fun tonight!” Bailey gets a twinkle in her eyes, a plan is forming as she pulls me off of the beige couch. “It’s party time!”

I groan “I’m all for a little get together but I don’t know if I’m party ready.” Bailey tugs on my arms back and forth to get me to dance with her.

“Britain invited some of his friends and the group to his apartment. It’s gonna be like so chill, I promise no more than like 7 people.”

I frown, mulling over how truthful that statement really was and how uncomfortable I would be if it truly was a party.

She notices I haven’t exactly been won over and back tracks. “I said party but I didn’t really mean party. It’s so casual and you know me, you know Britain, and you know Jack.” She meets my eyes for the selling point blinking her big green eyes “plenty of people to hide behind.”

I sigh. I hadn’t met any of Britain’s friends but I knew Bailey hangs with them too so they couldn’t be too bad. If anything I can just be introduced and then let Bailey and Jack do all the talking.

“Ok sure.”

“Yay! We can bring drinks, our wine is gonna go bad soon.”

>——————>

October In LA proved to be colder than I usually is. I regretted my sleeveless top but the jeans made up for it. With some chilled Merlot and some odd white claws or two in tow me and Bailey headed out to Britains apartment just off of 110 not far from campus. The smooth car ride in Bailey’s Camry proved useful for my mascara application. She had mentioned some of her boyfriend’s friends were single and encouraged me to at least get out of my sweat pants. I wasn’t getting my hopes up but I guess I was expecting something…maybe.

Britain’s apartment always smelled like something was cooking even when there was no food in the house. Tonight it smelled like burnt…toast?

Bailey scrunches her nose upon entering, “What did you burn?”. She asked Britain who opened the door for us.

“Popcorn.” He kisses her cheek and takes the drinks to the kitchen. “At least we have these” he tosses the bag of popcorn into the trash and takes some plastic cups out of the cabinet.

We set our bags down on the couch and look around at the seemingly empty apartment.

“Where are the boys?” Bailey asks, stepping closer to me. I know what she’s doing.

“Not sure actually,” he looks towards the hallway that led to his and his two roommates rooms. “Party’s here bros!”

My stomach flipped as a guy emerged from the hall, thankfully followed by Jack.

Jack greeted me with a smile and hug, “hey bro.”

The other guy he was with looked pretty friendly, a big smile on his face as he introduced himself. “Hey I’m Duane.”

“Reide.” I smile and shake his hand.

Britain calls out for ‘Filip and Jamie’ who we could hear laughing in one of the bedrooms down the hallway while we had been making our introductions.

One Filip and Jamie come walking down the hall—though I do not know which is which. They were still chuckling to each other from their conversation.

Bailey linked arms, probably trying to ground me with all these new people…new boys.

“So this is Jamie,” she gestures to the brunette with the sharper features who also seemed to be a few inches shorter than “and this is Filip.”

“this is Reider.” She finishes

“Everyone just calls me ‘Re or Reide.” I smile at them giving him my best attempt at confidence.

“Good to see you Reide.” Filip says he seems less chummy with me but this almost gives me more solidarity with him.

Jamie’s eyes catch my attention. They are blue or maybe hazel. The apartment lighting is still enough to see that he’s pretty. One of the hotter guys I’ve ever seen on campus.

“That’s a pretty name, ‘Reide.” He shakes my hand.

My flick wider and my cheeks grow hot.

He’s fucking British.

“Oh wow you have an accent.” Shove my hands in my back pocket, again posing myself as confident to make up for how frocking nervous I was to be talking to a cute boy.

“Yeah I’m from London.” His smile tells me he’s had this conversation a lot.

I panic a bit, not knowing whether he rather me just move on from his Britishness or if it would be rude to be so disinterested.

Bailey comes in to save me. “Well Britain burnt the single snack he had so is anyone up for a snack run?”

We all agreed the night would end in a movie and some games as we piled into Duane’s van.

He graciously offered to drive us to Walmart. Jack jumped in the passenger seat and immediately grabbed the auxcord.

The seating arrangement left me sitting in the middle of Jamie and Bailey. He smelled good though like cinnamon, vanilla and maybe pine. I hoped I smelled good, seeing as my body was so close to his. He was even cuter up close.

Jack started playing Get Him Back by Olivia Rodrigo and from there the chaos sprung. The boys belted the lyrics as if they had just been through some gut wrenching break up with their gaslighting boyfriend.

I giggled with Bailey, content. They seemed pretty cool but the night has just begun.