#and jonathan asking if she were dressed like kiss the band

[dearanakin]

"Here's your treat, Sailor" - Steve Harrington x f! Reader

Summary: It's Halloween and you're celebrating your birthday. You throw a small party at your house, but end up locked in your closet with Steve. Give him a treat, he's upset, yeah?

Warnings: A little fluff, a little smut. Oral sex, cursing. 18+ DNI

Word count: 2.6k (just a quick story)

Being born close to Halloween means it was always most likely you would throw a themed birthday party. Two days before the actual date, you were celebrating at a bar with your closest friends, always excited to gather all of them and your other friends. 

Hours before the party, you were getting help from Robin and Eddie with the decoration, while Steve and Dustin - your not-so-baby-brother - were cleaning the house. 

Jonathan and Nancy were in charge of the rest; food, crockery, cups and stuff like that. A faint rock music was playing on a boombox as you were all busy with the arrangement. 

You were pretty excited this year, for the first time after getting into college you invited a few friends you got along. Not that you weren't missing having a boyfriend, but every time you'd go out with someone, it turns out they just want sex, and you didn't like that. 

Pumpkins with wicked grins lined the path to the entrance, their flickering candles casting eerie shadows. A large, ancient oak tree was adorned with fake cobwebs and ghostly apparitions hanging from its branches, swaying gently in the autumn breeze. A fog machine sent wisps of mist rolling across the yard, setting the perfect, eerie mood.

It was 8 pm sharp when the first guests arrived. Mike with El, Lucas with Max and Will, who were not that young anymore either, they were all like 18, 19. You couldn't hold a grin to see them dressed as Ghostbusters, like every year they wear matching costumes.

You and your friends made a deal you'd surprise each other with your costumes, so a while after the kids arrived, Eddie knocked on the door and as you opened it, and it was impossible to miss. He had transformed himself into a member of the legendary rock band, Kiss. 

He was wearing a very made up costume. He even painted in the signature black and white makeup, wearing a black leather vest, displaying his flat abs.

He wore a skin-tight, leather jumpsuit adorned with studs and spikes. Behind him, Robin was wearing a camouflage outfit, along with black boots just like Eddie. 

"Wow, you took the 'dressed to kill' idea very seriously!" She said as she complimented you. As a lesbian, she couldn't stop looking at your cleavage.

You went for an Elvira look with a black, form-fitting, low-cut dress, with a slit on the side. The v-neck showed a little too much of your chest, which would make every guy look at you for more than five minutes. 

"Eddie, come on dork. Stop stripping her with your eyes!" She mocked him, laughing at the way he was just frozen, still looking at you. 

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. Nice choice. Gonna make every dude in this house get a boner" He tried to sound playful, but he only just turned himself in. 

"Thank you so much for the heads-up. I had no idea" Ironically, you weren't really expecting that. Maybe that's why Mike and Lucas got flickered in their foreheads earlier. 

Steve was more obvious and it made you laugh. He just chose to wear his Scoops Ahoy uniform, without the hat. Because that would ruin his perfect hair.

And again, what Eddie said echoed in your head, because the hairy chested guy couldn't stop staring at your breasts until you tried to pinch him. Jonathan and Nancy were wearing something very couple-like, and it was heart melting. 

There were people chatting in the backyard, some were listening to music while talking and drinking, Dusty and the kids were talking about some game. The couple was somewhere, probably exchanging saliva, and you were talking with Robin, listening to her charm about Vickie, while Eddie was smoking a joint. 

"Hey, where the hell is Steve?" She asks after a brief pause, watching as Eddie shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't seen him in like, twenty minutes, I think?".

"Probably fixing his hair or managing to get his dick wet" He scoffed. 

Both of you looked at him in disbelief, he was just trying to mock. "Ew, Munson. I know he used to be like that, but he wouldn't do this. Not at my house at least" You respond, but he doesn't agree. 

"Eh, could be. But let's be honest. The guy is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. Any girl would jump on him like that" He snaps his fingers. 

"I'm gonna look for him around here. You can go upstairs" You tell her before leaving him alone, who mumbles something about Steve "needing a babysitter" or something. 

You had no idea where the guy could've gone. He just didn't say anything before ghosting, and it's not like there was a way of communicating to him, unless he had a walkie. But this wasn't one of his gatherings with the kids. 

You looked behind the curtains, because, you never know right? Under the table, behind the couch, in the guest restroom and even behind any door, but still nothing. Robin said she didn't see him upstairs.

She went to the backyard and asked the others about him. Until you realized you didn't look for him in one spot that anyone could fit in: the closet under your stairs. 

He was sitting there with a different look on his face. Maybe tired? You didn't know. He had his back resting against the wall, fidgeting his fingers. A cup with some drink was also resting on the floor. 

"Care to explain why you're hiding at my party without saying anything?" You ask, but he doesn't bother to look at you. 

He shrugs his shoulders, pouting. "I'm sorry it's your birthday party. I just didn't feel like being around". 

You wanted to ask, but you weren't sure he would answer you. Still holding the doorknob, you reach out your hands, so he can lift himself up, but he doesn't. 

"C'mon Steve, let's try and cheer up, yeah? You want me to change the music? Is it boring?" He shakes his head. "You want something else to drink? Food?". Nothing. 

As soon as he gets up, he closes the door behind you, before you protest. What he doesn't know is that If you close the door, it locks from the inside. He just locked you both in there. 

"Steve-" You try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"Can you not tell this to Robin just yet? It's going to sound really stupid" He asks, his tone was low and pretty hurtful. 

"Steve, you can't close this door from the inside. We're locked in here". 

He snaps his eyes and raises both eyebrows. He tries to open the door but nothing happens.

"You're fucking kidding me. I just locked the party host in the closet" He groans, yanking his head against the door. 

"Yeah, thank you. Now Robin is going to think we're either missing or messing around". 

Steve still has his head resting against the door, banging it carefully. 

"Could this night be any shittier?" You don't get why he seems stressed, but you try to ask him anyway. 

"What happened, sailor?" He chuckles lightly, almost like in a bittersweet way. 

"If you make fun of me I'll get your gift back" He threatens. "Just this girl I was talking to earlier in the backyard.. I asked her for her number and she said I was a 'stupid momma's boy and that my reputation is wrecked'" He mourns.

"You know you're not like that anymore, right?" You try to ease him and reassure you don't think of him that way. 

He still laughs sarcastically. "Seems like I still am". He sighs. "That's the problem. People still see me like that, and I hate it". 

"Just because some random girl said that to you, it doesn't mean it's true". 

Steve tries to take in your words as he crosses his arms on his chest and ponders. He hasn't been like that in ages, why would he still make it a big deal anyway? Seems like he needed to work out his self-esteem. 

"Maybe you're right. How's the party?" He still sounds like he's offended, maybe he just needs a hug.

"Well, it's been pretty good until you locked us in" You joke, watching him slightly chuckle.

"You look really good as Elvira" Steve gives you a gentle side smile and you grab his hand. 

"You look the same as always, sailor" Snorting, he gives you a death glance. Like, it's not the first time you see in that outfit. 

"Just think you missed the boobs". Oh, that was a burn. 

Walking towards him, you make sure you're pressing your sides to show a little more cleavage, and he gulps. "What, you don't think this cleavage isn't enough?" Your voice was smooth and low. 

As you reach to both his arms, he tries to not stare at you for too long or he breaks. Your pleading eyes actually hold something different and it makes his boxer feel uncomfortable already. You've always thought he was good looking, even with the stupid outfit.

"I.. uh- No, it's great" He nervously laughs, his hands never meet your body out of respect for you. 

You tease him as you lean against his body, and Steve is looking confused at you. "Eddie was right when he said every guy would get a boner with my costume".

He tries to hold a nervous chuckle and fails. "I don't have a boner, what do you mean?"

"Then what are you hiding in there, an ice cream scoop?" The taunting was terrible, but it makes him laugh as his cheeks flush. 

"You're a terrible person" This time he holds his gaze directly at your eyes and leans closer until your noses bump. "You're incredibly sexy and terrible".

"And yet you're the one dressed as a sailor with your uniform" You retort, wrapping your hands around his neck. He feels your chest pressed against his, as well as his growing crotch. 

He doesn't give you an answer, but instead he just crashes his lips against yours, holding your chin in a light grip. He tastes like beer, he smells like Calvin Klein and you don't regret this little show you're having. 

It doesn't have to be something serious right now, so you just enjoy it when he slides his tongue against yours, letting out a groan to your surprise. One of his hands slides down your body, holding your waist as he tries to bring you closer to him.

You feel his hard cock rub against your cunt under the dress and it burns your skin. Grasping his lower lip against your teeth, you let out a teasing gasp, learning Steve is just about to throw you against the wall and fuck you there. 

But before he even tries anything, you start kissing him again, feeling his hot tongue swirling around yours in a battle for dominance. It makes your brain twist and your stomach sink. It makes your entire body shiver. 

He pulls back only to breathe, his haired chest is heavily panting and his lips are swollen. "This is what they're missing. So, fuck them" You praise. 

His big squared hand grabs your cheek carefully as he uses his thumb to rub his digit against your skin. "Thank you" That's all he says. 

Watching him from that position, it makes you realize he's everything Eddie said before. He is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. He's also caring, smart and gentle. If you could, you would put him in a bubble and take care of him. 

You pull him by the collar only to give him a peck before sliding both hands down his stomach until your hands reach the elastic of his shorts.

He looks at you, confused and sort of lost with the action. "Here's a Halloween treat, sailor". You kneel in front of him.

The tone of your voice is barely above a whisper and it carries luxury, filling the air of the small closet. His throat is now dry as he gulps harshly. You pull down his piece of clothing before glancing carefully at his hardened cunt under the fabric.

It pulses when you softly touch his base and Steve almost collapses under your hands. He helps you get rid of his boxer, muffling his grunt when you hold it in your right hand. Your best hand, the one you know you can give a nice handjob. 

But this time you catch him off guard when your mouth gives him a soft open mouthed kiss on the glistening tip of his cock. He's kinda big, and thick, and it makes your mouth water with desperation. You glide your tongue until it reaches his balls and he flinches, hissing. 

"Jesus fuck" He cries. It makes you grin through his cock. 

Slowly, you swallow him until it reaches the back of your throat and you try not to gag. His reflection is to pull a handful of your hair and he slowly loses it.

Working along with your tongue, you start bobbing your head up and down, careful to not choke on his cunt. You cup his balls with your free hand and softly rub them against your soft fingers. 

Steve almost starts sliding down the wall, trying to hold himself up. He feels himself completely at your mercy, not knowing why it feels so good, considering you were good friends.

You hum while tasting every inch of him, feeling his dick twitch inside your mouth, dripping with precum.

He uses one hand to hold himself while the other one still pulls your hair. The sound of your throat against his dick is echoing inside the closet, while his breathing makes the air become stuffy. Your mouth sucks him so perfectly, your throat tightens around him.

"I'm not gonna las- Fuck-" He sttuters when you hollow your cheeks and suck him hard, the loud gasp coming off his mouth makes you feel so horny you almost give up on this. 

The way you concentrate on your movements, always switching so it doesn't give you cheek cramps, makes him want to thrust against your mouth. But he knows his limits and he doesn't want you to choke on him either.

He watches with bliss on his eyes the way your head bobs towards him and it makes him dizzy at your sight. You look at him with lust and awe, savoring his salty liquid, feeling how his fat cock stretches your mouth so it can fit in.

Your hand falls from his balls to his hairy and thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin, listening to every moan he spills against the thin air. 

"I'mgonnacum" He slurs and you feel his hips shuddering as he finally reaches his peak, washing over your throat. You swallow him entirely, his warm cum suddenly makes you feel too blissed from the moment. 

Steve can barely breathe, you watch him almost gasp for air. His chest is heavily panting and sweating, just like his flushed face.

You noticed how messy his hair is. After swallowing it all, you give him a quick peck on his sensitive tip and he pulls back from the sensation. 

He helps you get up from your knees, still staring at you amused. You quickly clean the corner of your mouth, licking the same spot. "God, you are fascinating". 

When he leans forward to give you another kiss, not giving a shit you taste like him, the door finally opens and Robin stares at both of you in shock. 

"What the fuck happened here?".

[sweetsweetjellybean]

TW: Smut-tacular 3 way smut. Angst. NSFW. 18+

AN: See end of chapter Word Count: 11.6k (sorry, she's a long one)

Beta'd by @superblysubpar

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The look on Eddie's face as you descend the stairs is totally worth the extra time you spent on your hair and make-up. His eyes darken as they move over your fishnet-clad legs and your very short, tight jean cutoffs. The Metal Showcase Showdown is tonight, and you are dressed to impress.

"Jesus H, baby, are you wearing a bra under that?" He uses one finger to pull down the low neckline of your halter top, answering his own question when he sees the hard peek of your nipple.

"Nope," you say, popping the P and looking up at him under your lashes. 

"How am I supposed to concentrate with you looking like that? I'm gonna be hard all night," his arms go wrap around you, bringing your body flush against him. 

"You'll just have to try really..."

Kiss.

"Really," 

Kiss. 

"Hard."    

His full mouth stretches into an affectionate smile, "You're killing me, baby, but I'm going to die a happy man." 

After the night you kissed Steve, things have returned to normal in the Harrington household. Necessity has a way of shortening memories, and everyone in this house needs something. Eddie isn't someone who holds a grudge, and his relationship with Steve hasn't suffered any. They say the path to hell is paved with good intentions and the ones you love litter the roadside. Despite not knowing what path or what road you're on, you've done your best to dedicate yourself to Eddie and avoid Steve. The two of you haven't been alone together since the kiss, but that hasn't stopped the hungry looks he casts your way.

Steve comes around the corner with an apple in his hand, takes one look at you, and promptly turns to go back into the kitchen.

"Steve, where you going, man?" Eddie asks, releasing his hold on you. 

"I forgot my water," he hedges, "what do you need?"

"I was hoping you could get our girl here to the show tonight?" Eddie asks, lightly smacking your butt. 

"Wait. I thought I was riding with you," the disappointment is evident in your voice.

"The van is full of all of the band shit. Besides, I gotta leave right now. You would be sitting around in an empty club for hours while we set up. Ride with Steve and Robin, okay?" He kisses your forehead, "You're still taking Buckley, right?" He asks Steve over his shoulder. Maybe he isn't as forgetful as you thought.

"Well, we were going to ride with Nancy and Jonathan," Steve says, shrugging his shoulders and biting into his apple.

"There you go, Harrington. Cut loose a little. Have a few," Eddie encourages," Just what the doctor ordered. I'm sure Wheeler's got room for one more, right?"

"Yeah, I'll call her and make sure she's driving the wagon."

"Thanks, buddy," Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I know you don't need my help, but this isn't your usual crowd. Don't wear a Polo if you want to get laid."

"Thanks, but I wasn't planning on it." 

"Getting laid or wearing a Polo?" Eddie asks, feeling him out.

"The Polo," Steve says, glancing over at you.

"Nice," Eddie gives his shoulder a pat as he brings his hand up to block his mouth like you wouldn’t hear him when he says, "There should be quite a selection," 

"Good to know," Steve says shaking his head a little.

"Don't forget to wrap it. You never know where some of these chicks have been," Eddie says, leaning in closer to Steve.

Steve gives him a little push, "Get out of here. I'll see you at the show," he says before jogging up the stairs.

"Okay, baby. I'm going to take off. Do I look alright?" he steps back and holds out his arms.

"Hmm," you walk around, pretending to inspect him. A Metallica Tee with cut-off sleeves and a ripped neck shows off his arms and chest nicely. And the way his jeans cling to his ass has you reaching out to cop a feel.

"Hey, what do you think I am? A piece of meat?" he grabs your wrist, bringing you back in front of him, "You make me feel so cheap," he says, palming your breasts and giving them a squeeze.

"What am I supposed to do?" you ask, trying to sneak your hands back to his backside, "If you're dressed like this, clearly you're asking for it."

"I should have fucked you before you got all dressed up," he says before kissing you breathless, "I guess now I have something to look forward to." 

He pulls down half of your shirt and sucks a nipple into his mouth. The current of electricity running straight from your breast to your pussy have you looking forward to it as well. 

"Alright, baby, I got to go," he says, tucking you back into your shirt and kissing you quickly, "Remember, your names are on the list, so you can get in early. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Okay. Good luck," you give him one more smack on his bum on his way out the door. 

You're peering at your reflection in the hall mirror, using your finger to apply a thin layer of gloss over your lips, when Steve comes down the stairs pulling a tight gray tee over his head. 

"What do you think? Will this work?" Steve asks. Rubbing your lips together, you tighten the top on the little tub of gloss and try not to stare at the line of hair disappearing into his tight, worn black jeans. 

"You'll pass," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, tucking your gloss back in your bag.

"Do you wanna know how I think you look?" He asks, crowding into your space.  

"No," you step back until you're pressed against the wall. 

"No?" one of his arms lands on your hip while the other presses against the wall, boxing you in. 

"What are you doing?" you ask as he starts running his hand up your side. Your hand goes to his chest, keeping some space between your bodies, "We can't."

"That's not what you said the last time we were alone together," his eyes dip down to your lips before moving back to your eyes. 

"I was confused," you don't sound convincing, not even to yourself. 

"I think you know exactly what you wanted."

"I want Eddie," this time, your voice comes out sure and clear. 

"Maybe. But he's not the only one you want," he covers your hand with his own, "This thing between us is more than just sex. The way you kissed me, the way you begged me, I could feel it," he moves closer pressing his body against you, "God, I wanted you. I would have fucked you right there in the kitchen if Eddie hadn't come home. And you wanted it just as much as I did."  

"No. I would have stopped," you say, shaking your head, trying to clear it as things get a little hazy.

"I think you're wrong, and it's worth staying around to find out," his mouth starts moving toward yours at the same time the door opens, and Robin peeks her head inside. Steve quickly steps away. 

"We're here," she says sharply before turning on her heel and slamming the door behind her. 

Robin is unusually quiet, sitting between you and Steve in the back of Nancy's station wagon as you travel through the backwoods of Shelbyville on the way to the venue.

The Stone Church is an icon. Well, at least as close to an icon as you will get in this part of Indiana. Not much was known about the crumbling limestone church left to rot in the woods before it was developed into a live music venue and bar. It has become the spot to play for lesser-known and up-and-coming new acts, even boosting surprise performances from some big names looking for a more intimate setting. 

Gravel crunches under the tires of Nancy's wagon as she turns off the pavement onto the flattened dirt road that leads farther into the woods. The parking lot is packed full, and Nancy has to park in a grassy area along the treeline. Everyone climbs out of the car and stretches a bit after the long ride. The sun is just beginning to set behind the church's steeple, which still houses bells that ring to mark the opening and closing of the bar every evening.

Closing the car door, you lift up the handle to be sure it is locked. Clouds of weed and cigarette smoke hang heavy around the groups of Metalheads gathered in the parking lot, waiting for the main doors to open and the showcase to begin. Following Nancy and Jonathan, you walk through the maze of cars and people besides Steve and Robin. Someone calls your name, and you raise a hand, greeting a group of guys you know through Eddie. Steve's hand is on the small of your back, gently maneuvering you between him and Robin. Questioning the sudden change in position, you look up at him, but he's not looking at you. With tense shoulders and a tight jaw, he scans the parking lot like he's scrutinizing anything and everyone for a threat. Apparently, you aren't the only one to notice the change in his demeanor.

"Steve, are you alright?" Robin asks as your group comes to a stop at the side door. Nancy turns around with concern as Jonathan gives your name to a guy with a clipboard standing at the door. 

"I'm fine," Steve says, still looking around, "it's really crowded." He tries to hide it from the others, but he takes a few deep breaths through his mouth. Stepping closer to him, your fingers wrap around the hand hanging limply at his side, you give him a gentle squeeze before letting go, but he circles your wrist and joins your hands, keeping them low between you, away from the eyes of the others. The man with the clipboard opens the door ushering you inside. His hand lets go and moves to your hip, guiding you in ahead of him. 

"I'm getting a beer before there's a line," Steve says, moving toward the bar. 

"I'll come with you," Jonathan says, stepping around Nancy.

"Bring me back one," Nancy calls to Jonathan as you and Robin follow her to find a table. 

Your eyes wander toward where Steve is leaning on the bar, waiting for his order with one foot up on the brass bar rail, his black jeans hugging his legs and ass in all the right places. A blonde in a tight leather mini squeezes in beside him placing her hand on his arm, and you turn away quickly, a sour feeling forming in your belly. Robin's eyes are on you, her face giving nothing away, but you can feel the judgment in her stare.

The noise level in the club goes up a notch as the first band starts setting up their instruments on the stage. Unlike The Hideout, where recycled pallets serve as the platform for musical acts, Stone church has a real stage with professional sound and lighting, giving every group that performs a taste of rock stardom. The original church has been extended into a crucifix-shaped building with a generous backstage area, pool tables, and long double bars that line the walls with back bars lit in red neon holding shelf after shelf of bottled liquor. The enormous red neon cross that hangs above the stage and the dark wood and religious imagery keep the theme going through the interior of the space. 

Jonathan walks over, sets a beer in front of Nancy, and takes the seat beside her. Steve's just behind him, two brown bottles in each hand. Robin takes one out of his hand, and he sets one in front of you before placing the other two on the table and pulling out the chair beside Robin.

Warm arms circle your shoulders, and you smile as Eddie presses his soft lips against your temple. Turning toward him, your lips meet his for another quick kiss. 

"I didn't know if we'd see you before the show started," you happily capture one of his hands between both of yours.

"I had to come out and make sure my lucky charm is in the audience," he says, kissing the back of your hand while crouching between you and Nancy, "Thanks for coming out, Wheeler."

"We wouldn't have missed it," Nancy says warmly. Eddie's cheeks tint a soft pink, still not used to others showing up for him. 

"Byers, good to see you, man," Eddie says, standing and nodding toward him. Jonathan leans back and gives him a two-fingered salute as he sips his beer.

"What do you say, Buckley? Are you ready for some real music?" Eddie puts his arm around Robin and shakes her a little. 

"I'm ready to get my face torn off," Robin holds her hand up in the rock 'n' roll salute.

"Melted off, not torn off, but I appreciate the effort, doll," he says, holding out his hand to Steve, who responds by doing a half-shake half-slap greeting, "Thanks for being here, dude."

"Sure, man," Steve says, "break a leg or whatever shit you're supposed to say."

"Aww, buddy, I'm touched," Eddie rests a hand over his heart. Steve rolls his eyes and waves him off, "Alright, wish me luck," Eddie says, rubbing his hands together, "I'll try to come out after our set," after a chorus of good lucks, Eddie disappears into the crowd. 

The stage lights begin to circle and change colors, and a round of hoots comes from the crowd as a man with shoulder-length blonde hair wearing a Winger shirt and ripped jeans walks to the mic. 

"Welcome to the Stone Church. I'm Mack The Knife, your host for this year's Metal Showcase Showdown. If you're looking for the David Hasselhoff concert, this ain't it," a burst of laughter comes from the crowd. 

"You know how this works, ten bands battling it out for a weekly spot here at the church, and just to make it interesting, we've got some new prizes this year. There are two open spaces at The Indianapolis Metal Fest this summer. That's right, the winners and the runners-up will be heading to Hoosier City to melt some faces. Third place gets to clean the johns at the end of the night. Alright, thrashers, let's get our first act out here. Let's give a big church welcome to Iron Spawn." 

A round of cheers and applause comes from the audience as Mack The Knife leaves the stage, and the group launches into their first song. The metalheads in front of the stage start moshing, causing those who wish to stay out of the fray to step back, making the crowded space feel even tighter. Leaning forward, you look down the table at Steve to see if he's reacting to the crowd. His head is tipped back with the beer bottle at his lips, chugging down its contents. Nancy mirrors your position looking down the table.

"Hey Steve," she yells over the din, "Are you double fisting?" she tips her head toward the second beer in front of him. He leans around Robin and yells back. 

"I'm not driving. I'm not babysitting, and there's nothing trying to kill us. Seems like a good reason to have a few," Steve raises his bottle to clink with Robin's.

"I'll drink to that," Jonathan says, raising his beer. 

Nancy notices the confused look on your face and leans towards you, "He's kidding," she says, trying to explain Steve's odd toast, but you don't know if you're buying what she is selling. It's useless trying to get any information out of this group, who all seem in on whatever secrets Eddie and Steve are keeping, "When does Eddie go on?" she asks, changing the topic. 

"I'm not sure," you yell into her ear, "Each band plays four songs." 

Nancy nods in understanding, "It's too bad Dustin is too young to get in. He would have loved this," she gestures around at the dimly lit space packed with people swinging their heads in time with the hard rhythm of the song. 

"Next time we'll sneak him in," you say, and Nancy laughs. Although you doubt Nancy will make metal shows a regular thing, you peg her as more of a pop-synth girl. Jonathan seems to like it, you note as he lightly head bangs from his seat. 

"Eww, gross," Robin complains when Steve pulls out an unopened pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tosses it on the table, "Where did you even get those?" She crosses her arms while yelling at Steve. 

"From the vending machine," Steve shrugs, taking a sip from his second beer, the first bottle sitting empty on the table next to him. He taps the box on the table a few times before unwrapping the cell phone and pulling a matchbook from his pocket. 

"I didn't know you smoked," you yell, partially leaning over Robin. 

"Only when I drink," he replies, putting a cigarette between his lips and striking the match. He takes a drag and rests an elbow on the table, the other moving to the back of his seat, his tight t-shirt stretching across his chest as he leans back, crossing his legs before he purses those pouty lips, letting the smoke slowly trail into the air. Your pulse skips, and you grab your beer, taking a long pull.

"I think I'm having an asthma attack," Robin yells, fanning the air in front of her and pushing the ashtray further down the table. 

"You don't have asthma, Robin," Steve yells back. 

"I might now. Prolonged exposure to secondhand smoke can cause asthma," she puts her hand on her throat and coughs.

"Can I have a drag?" you ask over the music. 

"You smoke?" Robin asks like she found out you eat puppies for breakfast. 

"I do. Just usually not cigarettes," you wink at her.

"I guess that shouldn't be surprising," she says, catching on. 

"It really shouldn't," you say, laughing, after all you're dating Eddie. Steve reaches across Robin offering you his cigarette.

"Oh no," Robin says, jumping to her feet. I'm not sitting in between you if you're smoking, "I can feel my throat closing up. Anaphylaxis. I think I'm allergic," she leans forward with an exaggerated wheeze, "Switch seats with me if you're both going to smoke." Steve's mouth stretches into a cocky smirk. 

"No, that's okay. I don't have to smoke," you say loudly, waving her off. 

"Come on," Steve yells, "She could pass out. We'd have to call an ambulance." Robin's eyes get big, and she starts shaking her head at you.

"Fine," you grumble, sliding your beer down the table as you move into the seat next to Steve and angle your body away from him. 

"You better give her a little more space," Steve says, grabbing the bottom of your chair and pulling it until it's touching the edge of his. Under the table, you cross your legs, but he just spreads out further until his thigh is pressed right against yours. "Is that better, Robin?" Steve yells around you, smoothly moving his arm to drape over the back of your seat. She nods, still clutching her throat and hyperventilating. 

"That was mean," you yell. He takes the opportunity to lean even closer to you, pretending he can't hear. 

"She'll be alright," he says into your ear, tipping his head towards Robin, who is already laughing with Nancy and Jonathan. He extends his hand, offering you the ciggy he holds between two fingers. His eyes are trained on your mouth as you bring it to your lips, inhaling the thick smoke into your lungs. The gentle headrush hits you as you exhale, but you're not sure if it's from nicotine or Steve's fingers trailing down the bare skin of your arm. There's a satisfied look on his face as he takes the cigarette back from you. 

The lights flash, the audience cheers, and claps as the first band finishes their set and starts to unplug their guitars. The chatter from the patrons seems quiet compared to loud music, and it feels like you're hearing everything underwater. The reprieve from the loud volume is short-lived as Mack runs back on stage to announce the next band. The new drummer holds his sticks above his head, tapping them together, setting the beat for their first song, a cover of Dream Warriors. 

Goosebumps break out across your skin as Steve lifts his thumb from the back of your chair to trace patterns up and down your spine. The way it leaves you tingling, you wonder if everywhere he touches will be permanently marked. You're starting to second-guess your choice of shirt. If you asked him to stop, you know he would, but it would let him know how much his simple touches were affecting you. He seems unphased as he watches the band letting the cigarette hang between his lips. Picking up your beer, you hope concentrating on draining the rest will give you a distraction. Steve stubs out his cigarette and takes a sip of his beer, his lips lingering on the head of the bottle. Inhaling deeply, you can't seem to look away. He sets down the empty bottle and turns to you, brushing the hair off your shoulder before leaning so close his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

"You wouldn't let me tell you earlier, how you look tonight," his fingertips drag over the uneven texture of your fishnet-covered leg. "I think you're the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen," he moves his mouth lower and tongues the sensitive skin right beneath your ear before his lips close over the same spot, gently sucking. Warm waves of arousal fill your pelvis, and you squeeze your legs together as you tilt away from his mouth and steal a nervous glance down at the other end of the table, but no one is watching. If they were, it would look like Steve was in your ear, trying to be heard over the music. Sure he was a little close, but that wasn't unusual for Steve. 

"I dressed like this for my boyfriend," you brush his hand from your leg. 

"You keep telling yourself that, sweet girl, but he's not the only one that knows how you taste," he pulls back, giving you a little space as Jonathan passes by the front of the table. He pauses and yells over the music. "I'm getting another round. Want anything?" he points toward the bar.

"I'll go with you," Steve yells back, and you notice he adjusts himself under the table before standing to go with Jonathan. At least you're not the only one affected. Grateful for a moment alone, you try to calm down. 

"Are you alright?" Robin leans towards you, "You're a little red," her finger points at your face making a circle. 

"It's hot in here," you fan the air in front of you and try changing the subject, "Are you having fun?"

"This is wild," she says smiling, "I like the energy."

More metalheads have entered the pit thrashing along with music. The third band has taken the stage and is playing Metal Health by Quiet Riot by the time Steve and Johnathan make it back from the bar carrying three beers each. Steve sets the bottles on the table, sliding one in front of you and keeping the other two for himself as he settles back in his seat. 

Lifting an eyebrow, you ask, "Trying to get me drunk?" 

He smiles and leans in. "No, I'm trying to get me drunk," he lifts his beer, taking a long pull as if making his point. 

"We're going to the bathroom. You wanna come?" you jump at the sound of Nancy's voice in your ear, so wrapped up with Steve that you hadn't noticed both she and Robin standing right beside you, "I'm okay," the two of them walk off to stand in, what you're sure is a very long line. Turning your head, you watch Jonathan alone at the end of the table, nursing his beer, air drumming from time to time. Eddie might make a metalhead out of him yet. 

Something warm and wet presses against your bare shoulder, you close your eyes, and you know Steve's kissing you. His mouth drifts across your skin, hot and smooth. Your toes curl inside your shoes, and your pussy clenches around nothing. Since your conversation in the hallway, he's had you in a state, heating you up and then letting you cool down, and each time the ache gets more intense, you've had enough. 

"Stop teasing me," you demand, spinning your body towards him, dislodging his lips from your shoulder. 

His mouth twists into a smirk, "I like seeing how much you want me," his hand moves to your leg, "It's only fair. It's easy to see how much I want you." Like magnets, your eyes go straight to his lap, his tight jeans doing little to hide the outline of his girthy hard cock. 

Looking away quickly, you pick up your beer, a light condensation clings to the outside of the bottle, and you hope the cold liquid can cool you down. But it's too late, images of Steve driving into you fill your mind, your breathing fluctuates, and your clit pulses. Those long blunt fingers start to work their way between the gaps in your stockings, rubbing against your overly sensitive skin and leaving you shivering. 

"Fuck, your nipples are so hard, I can see them through your shirt," his eyes are locked on your breasts where your hard nipples strain against your shirt, the outline of your puffy areolas clearly visible. The attention has your breasts feeling heavy and aching to be sucked and fondled.

His face is inches from yours, his breath coming in pants through his parted lips. His eyes don't leave yours as his finger jerk, "Oops," his eyes look black as he tears your stocking, "I'll buy you another pair," his fingers widen the hole as they move in circles on the inside of your leg. 

"Steve," you moan, sounding breathy and as out of control as you feel. Clamping your hand on his wrist, you mean to pull him away but end up holding him against you. 

"Jesus, I know, sweetheart," his mouth brushes down your temple, moving along your jaw, "Are you wet?" His words have your legs parting and your whole body trembling, "Not going to tell me?" feeling too dizzy to speak, you stay quiet and let your head lean against his forehead with his lips at your ear. 

"I guess I'll have to find out," he rasps, his fingers moving to the inside of your thigh, high up at the very edge of your shorts. There's an audible rip as he shreds your stockings, thick fingers working their way into your shorts toward your very wet panties. 

"And next up, all the way from Hawkins, we have Corroded Coffin," The host's voice is like cold water cutting through the haze of your lust. Nancy and Robin appear out of the crowd. Coming towards the table, you shoot out of your seat and away from Steve. Without looking back, you grab onto Robin's arm. "Let's get closer," you yell in her ear, pulling her behind you toward the stage.

Eddie is just starting the first gentle chords of Fight Fire with Fire by Metallica when the two of you make it to the front of the stage, carefully staying off to the side, so you don't get dragged into the pit. The two of you scream as the band blasts into the hard and fast tempo of the rest of the song. Robin falls against you, laughing, getting high on the crowd's energy.

Your breath is still coming in pants, clit throbbing, and watching your boyfriend on stage is doing little to curb your needy state. The whole band looks formidable under the swirling colored lights that change with the beat but Eddie…Eddie looks like a rockstar. His fingers fly over frets, not missing a note, his eyes moving over the crowd connecting with them, drawing them in. Jeff belts out lyrics into the mic, and Eddie jumps into the air at the key change. The extra practice has been worth it, he makes the complicated song look easy, and the crowd is eating it up. 

Sweat coats your skin as people brush against you, but your eyes are on him, thoughts filling your head about finding him backstage and how hard he would fuck you while coming down from his performance high. Steve finds you both and slides his hard cock against your ass-pushing it inside. Fuck, what is wrong with me? 

Eddie moves to the very edge of the stage, his arms making big movements as his guitar whines out the song's last notes. Someone in the crowd screams, "fuck yeah!" as the band is treated to heavy applause. Eddie looks over at you and winks, you never would have guessed he even knew you were there between the bright lights and his intense focus. He steps up to the mic and sings the opening lyrics to Cum On Feel The Noize. His voice flows smoothly through the speakers with just the right amount of rough edge for this song. Jeff joins him for the chorus, the two of them playing back to back. The hot lights show off the light sheen of sweat covering Eddie's bare arms, his muscles flexing as he plays, tattoos peeking out from the rip at the neck of his shirt. There is no doubt he belongs on a stage. 

Yelling out the chorus, you and Robin bounce on your toes. Every movement has your nipples scraping against the fabric of your shirt, sending little shocks through your body. Eddie's eyes are on you, tongue sneaking out to run along his top lip.The ache to be filled is overwhelming as a fresh wave of slick has your panties sticking to your pussy. The song ends. Gareth bangs out a quick beat on the drums transitioning to Hot For Teacher. Eddie jumps in with a brutal riff, followed by the rest of the group. He moves around the stage, jamming out, almost randomly heading back to the mic to belt out a few of the sexual lyrics, clearly having a ball covering this song. 

Without warning, he rushes to the side of the stage where you're standing, leaning forward and singing directly to you. 

"I've got it bad, I've got it bad, I've got it bad"

"I'm hot for teacher"

"Ooh, yeah"

Hollering like fangirls, you and Robin pretend to faint against each other. Eddie's smile widens as he dashes back across the stage for the song's end. It's clear he's having a blast, and it's well-deserved. Jeff waits for the applause to die down before he addresses the audience, "This is the last one from us," a wave of disappointed noise rises out of the crowd. Jeff and Eddie give each other an amused look. 

"We'll miss you too," Eddie blows the crowd an exaggerated kiss, and they react with light laughter. 

"Hopefully, we will be back real soon," Jeff says into the mic," You can come see us at The Hideout in Hawkins every Tuesday night. It's been real fun playing for y'all. Here's one you might know," Jeff steps back. 

The bass and drums set the fast-paced rhythm for Ace of Spades, another guitar-heavy song spotlighting Eddie's skills on lead guitar. More moshers join the pit, the metalheads cheering their approval. 

"They're gonna win this thing," Robin says in awe, looking out into the crowd. 

Grabbing her hand, you move her pointer over her middle, "Fingers crossed."

All the bands tonight have been great, some a little more seasoned than Corroded Coffin, but none of them have matched their energy, and Eddie is untouchable on guitar. Life has dealt Eddie a shitty hand, but he pushes on. Whistles and yells accompany the clapping as the last song closes and the band gathers their instruments. "Please let him have this," you mumble in prayer to whatever gods are listening. 

"They were so good," Robin says, wiping the sweat off her forehead as the two of you work through the crowd. 

"They really were," you agree," thanks for braving the crowd with me."

"Are you kidding? I loved it. Sign me up for the next show," she says as the table comes into view. Steve and Nancy are sitting close, talking, but as if he senses you, his eyes snap to yours, an intense expression taking over his face, stopping you in your tracks.  

Robin grabs your forearm, her eyes bounce from you to Steve and you can feel her hesitancy before she says, "Someone's going to get hurt." 

"It's too late," you say, shaking your head, "we all are." Turning away from her, you push back into the crowd, trying to get lost amongst the mass of bodies. 

A little pocket of space opens up just before the bars, and you settle there, trying to look like you're watching the show. A metalhead and his girlfriend to the right of you, eye you curiously as you stand there panting, your body tense with alarm. 

An audible moan leaves your mouth as a big hand slides around your waist to your stomach, fingers working their way under your shirt. Steve sloppily mouths your neck, his wet tongue licking off your sweat. He pulls you back into his hip, his erection pushing into your ass. With eyes closed, you melt into his strong chest and wrap your hand back against his thigh. 

"We're always getting interrupted," he says into your ear before giving your earlobe a little nip. The smell of beer and cigarettes mix with his usual scent.

"Are you drunk?" you ask as his fingers pop open the button of your shorts.

"Maybe a little but not enough to forget how much I need you." his fingers are slipping into the front of your pants, "Kiss me."  

It's a demand. His other hand grips the back of your neck, and it's all too much, your mouth finds his, and you slide your tongue inside. He groans against your lips, and the hand in your pants slides farther down, cupping you over your stockings and panties, rubbing over the wet material. 

"Someone is going to see," your hips roll in a slow rhythm grinding against him.

"I don't care. I want inside you. Now," his other hand drops to your breast, kneading it over your shirt, "Come with me. We'll find someplace to be alone."

Yes sits on your tongue, waiting to push past your lips. He's rubbing you faster, and you're not going to last much longer, the coil already tightening in your belly. Your eyes flutter open, and through the haze, they land on the side door next to the stage. The one that Eddie has just walked through. He's moving in the direction of your table.

Steve calls your name, but you're already walking away. Bodies brush against you as you push through the crowd, heading straight towards Eddie, your vision tunneled solely on him. A soft smile tugs at his lips when your eyes connect, and he starts moving to meet you. His damp curls stick to his forehead, and his arms and neck still shine with sweat.

"What did-" you cut him off, grabbing his jaw and attacking his mouth. His arm goes around your waist, pulling you closer as he opens for you, and you waste no time licking inside. The kiss is sloppy, all tongue, mouths open wide. It isn't enough, you end the kiss biting his lower lip and grabbing his wrist.

"Baby," you ignore his endearment as you pull him behind you towards the side entrance hall, "Baby, where are we going?" He asks, chuckling, not put off by you taking control. Long lines snake down the hall, and people wait impatiently for one of the four bathrooms. A door opens as someone exits. Curses and moaning follow as you cut the line pulling Eddie inside behind before you turn and lock the door. The fluorescent light flickers overhead, the sink drips, and the trashcan is overflowing with paper towels, and God knows what else, but you don't see any of it as you push Eddie up against the wall, rubbing your body against him and sucking on his tongue. His hand moves to your ass, trying to bring you closer as you grind all over him, your hands clawing at his wettish shirt. Your mouth moves to his neck, licking and sucking his salty skin as your hands unbuckle his belt. 

"Jesus, baby, what are you doing?" he asks as you pull his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock. Dropping to your knees on the filthy bathroom floor, you hold his eyes as you lick the silky head of his hardening cock.

"Okay…fuck," he pants as your other hand rolls his balls. Licking up and down his veiny shaft, you drool out as much spit as possible, soaking his cock before your hand wraps around the base. Sucking the red leaking head into your mouth, you hollow your cheeks while the tip of your tongue pushes into the slit tasting the precum. 

"Goddam Baby, that's it," his hands move to the back of your head as you start shallow, bobbing your mouth while your hand works the velvety skin of his hard shaft with smooth regular strokes. His blown-out eyes are almost black as he looks down at you, moaning with your mouth full of his cock. Your cunt is wildly clenching, the ache turning painful. With your free hand, you rip down one side of your halter freeing your breast so you can tug on your hard nipple. 

"Can you take me deeper?" His hands gently press on the back of your head, guiding you down until you're gagging when his cock hits the back of your throat. He lets go expecting you to back off, but your hands run up his denim-covered thigh until you're gripping his ass, holding him in place as you swallow him down until your nose is pressed into the coarse hair at his base. A string of curses leaves his mouth as he turns into a moaning mess above you. You release him when you're struggling for air, spit running down your chin and eyes watering.

The pumping bass reverberates through the black-painted walls of the tiny bathroom, and the antiseptic smell of the cheap pink soap dripping from the dispenser fills your nose as you breathe deep, catching your breath while continuing to stroke his wet length up and down with your hand. 

"Oh my god," he pants, gently stroking your hair, softly tucking it behind your ears. 

A frustrated cry spills from your lips as you try working your other hand under the tight waistband of your stockings and panties, the material sticking to your sweaty skin.

"Touch yourself," Eddie encourages, his hooded eyes drinking you in.

"I'm so wet. I need to come," you whine, tears rolling down your cheeks, your fingertips finally reaching your engorged clit, your hips rolling and grinding against your hand. 

"I want you to come while I'm in your mouth," his request has you moaning as you return to him, working him deeper and faster between your lips.

The emptiness inside you nudges away the pleasure. Like a cheap knockoff, your fingers feel inadequate after Steve's touch. The fierce craving to be stretched and filled consumes your thoughts. Eddie would have fucked you. Held your hands against the wall while his hips pistoned, driving into you or watching your face in the mirror as he took you from behind. But you hadn't asked. The whole truth hitting you at the same time as your orgasm, it wasn't Eddie you wanted inside you. That's why you are on your knees in a dirty bathroom, working toward repentance, letting him use your mouth while you ache for someone else. The guilt fizzles out your climax leaving you wet and uncomfortable. 

He moans above you, lost in his own haze, "I'm so close..so close," he swells in your mouth, the taste of him changing as he leaks in a steady drip.

Letting him slide past your lips, you give his tip one more kiss while you free your other breast, lifting yourself higher, "Come for me. Come on my tits," you plead, rubbing his dribbling head against your nipple. 

"Oh fuck I'm coming," he groans, voice rough and rasping. He nearly falls forward with the force of his release, batting away your hand so he can paint your chest with the hot sticky ropes of his cum.

When his last spurt is dripping down your breasts, he grabs you under your arms, lifting you to your feet, pushing you into the opposite wall. One hand grips your chin, opening your mouth for his plundering tongue, kissing you in a frenzy. While his other hand kneads your breasts, catching your nipple between his fingers while he rubs his cum into your skin. His kiss turns lazy as his cock softens against your belly. 

"I love you," he presses small kisses to your lips, "did you cum?"

"Mmmmhmmm," you mumble, nodding your head, kissing him back, and enjoying his hands on your skin. 

"What got into you?" he asks, peppering kisses over your face. 

"I wanted you to have the full rockstar experience," you lightly brush your hand against his cock, and he shivers.

"I don't even care if we win anymore. That was the best head I've ever had," he says, sucking down your neck. Shame washes over you. 

Clamping down in his hair, you pull his head back until he's looking into your eyes, "You were fucking amazing. I've never heard you sound so good. I'm so proud of you."

He smiles and kisses you. Someone starts banging on the door. The two of you go about cleaning up and redressing. You're met with more curses and boos as you leave the bathroom and walk down the hall. Eddie has to return backstage until the end of the showcase when they announce the winner. Before he walks away, you grab his hand, "I really love you," you say, suddenly overcome with emotion. Whatever has happened hasn't changed that. He pulls you into his arms, his hands tangling in your hair.

"I love you too," he says into your ear. He holds you a minute before waking away, and you stand there watching until he's through the door. Deciding you need a drink, you wait in line at the bar, not in a hurry to return to the table. When it's your turn, you order and wait patiently at the busy bar for the bartender to serve you. He pushes a bottle your way, and you pull a couple of folded bills from your pocket and leave them behind. Stepping away from the line, you pause to sip your drink, but the bottle slips through your fingers and smashes on the stone floor. The sound is barely loud enough to be heard over the loud metal music, but a bartender with a weary face slips out from behind the bar with a towel and broom.

"Are you alright?" He asks, wondering why you are standing there frozen in a puddle of beer and broken glass. Stepping back, you run your shaking hands through your hair and mumble your apology, still unable to take your eyes off Steve. He's at the end of the bar standing close to a stool taken by his new blonde friend from earlier. His tongue is in her mouth, and his hand is up her skirt. She's enjoying it, holding his head in place while she tries to swallow his entire face. 

Turning away, you wrap your hands around your middle, feeling sick and gut-punched. He's not yours, and you know that. If the pain you're experiencing can be used to measure the depth of your feelings, you've fallen further than you thought possible. Feeling foolish and angry, all you want is to leave, but you can't. You're not going to ruin this for Eddie. Swallowing your anguish, you walk back to the table and plaster on a smile as you sit next to Robin. 

"What happened?" Robin asks, pointing to your legs. Besides the holes Steve ripped, your stockings have sizable holes in each knee, and your skin is scraped and scunned. 

"I tripped," the lies are stacking up. Her expression doesn't hide her disbelief. 

"Have you seen Steve?" she asks, studying your face.

Shaking your head from side to side, you quickly turn away from her, swiping some wetness in the corner of your eye. He's not getting your tears. 

"They should be announcing a winner soon. I think this is the last band," you try changing the subject.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks in a lowered voice. 

"No…but thanks, Robin," your smile is sincere. The two of you sit and watch the last band finish up. During the break, Nancy and Jonathan pull you into a conversation about some things happening at school, reminding you that graduation is right around the corner. Eddie's taking you to pick out a car next week. Maybe you can get a second job, and when Eddie finds something, you can bring up moving into your own place again.

The stage lights start circling and changing from purple to red to yellow and back again. The members of the ten bands crowd onto the stage followed by Mack who steps up to the mic, "Alright, Alright, another Showdown has come to an end and this was one for the books. If metal is God's apology for pop music, then we worshiped hard tonight, my friends." 

The crowd cheers, and Mack waits for the noise to die before continuing, "And now for the winners. Let me tell you, the judges had a hard decision to make. It was close. Closer than your balls in leather pants, and many of you know how close that is," Mack points at a few people in the audience, "Second place who will be joining us at this summer's Metal Fest.."

Eddie's standing with his hands behind his back, nervously looking down at his feet. Everyone at your table is holding their breath.

"Is our new friends, Corroded Coffin," Mack says, pointing to the group. The boys' mouths fall open, and you jump to your feet, yelling and clapping. Jonathan whistles loudly. Nancy and Robin join you, cheering for Eddie and the rest of the band.

"These guys are definitely the ones to watch at next year's Showdown. Congratulations, guys," Mack joins the rest of the audience clapping. Jeff slings his arm around Eddie's neck as he stands there dumbfounded. The rest group is fist-pumping and high-fiving. 

"Now for this year's Stone Church Showdown winners, one of our long-time favorites, Severed Monkey Heads," Mack points out the other band, and the applause continues, "Thanks for coming out tonight, thrashers. We hope to see you all back at the Church real soon. Now you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

After another few minutes of applause, the stage empties, and people start to shuffle out of the building. Nancy and Robin are beginning to get concerned with Steve's disappearance, and you're trying your best to act like you don't notice. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie walking toward the table, a big smile plastered on his face. 

With a smile, you run over to meet him, and he sweeps you up in his arms. 

"Babe, you are so metal you're going to rust in the shower," you say, peppering his face with kisses. 

"You've been saving that one up, haven't you?" he laughs, "but I am pretty metal."

"So metal," you agree. Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin start clapping and congratulating Eddie as he takes your seat and pulls you onto his lap. 

"You're too kind," Eddie says, soaking up their praise. 

"Not that second place isn't a perfectly respectable position, but in my humble opinion, you definitely melted the most faces," Robin says, "You should have come in first."

"Well, thanks, Buckley, I'm going to put you in charge of our fan club," Eddie laughs, "but the good news is Jeff is backstage right now talking to Mack about booking us a few gigs here."

"That's great, Eddie," Nancy says genuinely, "Don't forget to call Dustin when you get home. You know he's waiting by the phone to hear, and I don't want Mike telling him before you get a chance."

"Will do," Eddie says, giving her a salute, "Baby, your knees," Eddies says, noticing your scraped skin and wincing, "I guess we got a little carried away." 

Robin bites her lip, trying to hide her smile as she shakes her head.

"Are you guys taking off?" Eddie asks, looking around the empty club. 

"We're just waiting for Steve," Nancy tells him.

"Oh shit, I was supposed to tell you," Eddie says, smacking his forehead, "I saw him when I came out. He left with some girl and told me to tell you he got a ride."

"What girl?" Nancy asks.

"Did he give you a phone number? She could be a serial killer," Robin panics.

"Calm down, mother hens," Eddie says, making a downward motion with his hands. Jonathan snorts, and Nancy smacks his arm.

"He's getting laid. He's a big boy. He can handle it." Eddie assures them as you try to act indifferent.

"Eww," Robin blanches. At the same time Nancy says, "Really, Eddie?"

"Just get my girl home, okay, Wheeler? If he doesn't show up by tomorrow, we can send out a search party," Eddie turns to you, "I've got to get all this shit back to Gareth's. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Okay," you say, kissing him and standing up so he can go get packed up. 

"Tripped my ass," Robin says, elbowing you on your way out of the bar.

The house sits dark and imposing, the tall tree's swaying in the light breeze. You wished you had somewhere else to go for the first time since moving in. The key sticks in the lock, being recently cut, not having the wear of an older key, you have to jiggle it a little to get it out. You go straight to your room without bothering with any lights and strip off your clothes. The stockings go into the trash, and you let the shower run, filling the room with steam while you look at your reflection in the mirror. Once you're in the shower, you allow yourself a little cry. Just once, where it won't hurt anyone, your tears disappear into the water flowing over your face. Does it even really count? The peach-scented soap scrubs away your makeup and your sweat and both their touches. Stepping back into your bedroom, you pull a tee over your head, and it's not until you're crawling into bed that you realize it's Steve's. Your hands clutch the hem, wanting it off your skin, but in the end, you leave it and burrow deeper under the covers. 

When you hear the first bump, you're not sure if you have actually been asleep or just hovering in the space between. Heavy, uneven footsteps stomp up the stairs, an occasional thud as something hits the wall. The first giggle leaves you nauseous, an acid burning in your gut. A deep exhale leaves your lungs as you hear his door shut, and you shut your eyes, trying to head back into oblivion. The moans started low at first but quickly ramped up to almost screaming. Obscenities of all kinds yelled in a high-pitched voice accompanied by a rhythmic banging of something hitting the wall. But the first "please, daddy" has you burying your head under the pillows. It seems like it had been going on for hours when you feel Eddie sliding in beside you.

"Are you still awake, baby," he asks, rubbing your back.

"What do you think?" you ask grumpily as the sex olympics continue across the hall.

He chuckles, "Harrington picked a real screamer."

"It's not funny, Eddie. I'm tired. I have to work tomorrow," you roll over to face him.

"Not until tomorrow night. You can sleep late tomorrow morning. You don't have to get up with me," he's trying to be helpful, but rationality has gone out the window with the mood you're in. With a quick succession of bangs and an exaggerated, long shriek, the house goes quiet.

"There you go, baby. All done. Let's go to sleep," he wraps an arm around you, and you rest your head on his chest. Your heart rate is just returning to normal when the whole thing begins again.

"That's it," you say, sitting up, "You need to go say something."

"I'm not going to do that," he says, clearly annoyed by your request, "If he wants to bang her all night, it's his own business. Besides, we're not exactly quiet."

"Are you saying I sound anything close to that?" You point towards the door as the sound of a cat being strangled echoes through the house.

"Not you. I'm talking about me," he tries to joke, tugging you down next to him, "You know we could always make a little noise of our own," his fingers are sliding under your shirt.

"I think I had too much to drink. I'm really tired. Let's just go to sleep," you say, rolling away from him.

He sighs and rolls away from you.

There is nothing but the sound of Eddie's deep breaths filling the room, but you're still awake. Frustrated, you stare up at the dark ceiling, wondering when things got so complicated. The floor feels cold after the warmth of your bed as you leave the room, making sure to close the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to trigger another round of…whatever they were doing to each other in that room. 

Only turning on the small light above the sink, you fill the kettle and pull a box of tea from the cabinet. Once the water is ready, you fill a mug and sit at the table, dunking the tea bag listlessly while you watch the soft waves moving on the pool's surface lit up by the underwater lights. The water is soothing. Its motion lets you shut off your brain and just be still. 

You're taking your first sip when Steve comes padding into the kitchen, hair a mess in just his boxers. He heads straight to the refrigerator. The light from inside makes the circles under his eyes look deeper. He pulls out a can of beer and chugs it while leaning against the kitchen island.

"Finished performing your exorcism?" you ask from your seat at the table.

"Sorry. Am I keeping you up?" he doesn't seem surprised to see you. He didn't even jump. He knew you were there. 

"She's pretty… um…vocal," he says with a little smirk setting his can down on the counter.

"No, I enjoyed it. It sounded like a bad porno," you sip your tea calmly.

"Trust me, that would have been quality porn," he throws out flippantly as he rubs his chest.

Getting up from your seat, you dump your tea in the sink, "I can't believe you brought her here. Did you want to rub it in my face?" you ask, placing your mug on the counter and turning to face him.

"This is my goddamn house," he puts his hands on his hips, "You can't be mad at me for that. You left me there… ready and needing you." 

"You sure didn't have any trouble finding someone to give you what you wanted," you turn to leave, but he grabs your wrist.

"At least I know who I fucked. Who were you thinking about?" he boxes you in against the island, "Who made you cum? Him or me?"

There's a sting as tears fill your eyes, "What do you want from me, Steve?"

"Everything. I want all of you," in this light, his eyes look more brown than green as they bore into you.

"Go back upstairs. She's waiting for you," you keep your voice even trying to sound sure. 

"I don't want her," his hands move gently over your jaw, "Don't you know that? Don't you know you're all I can think about," he uses his thumb to brush away the tear that was running down your cheek.

"Kiss me."

"No," you pull his hands off your face and shake your head.

"Kiss me like you did the last time we were here. Like I'm the only one," he moves closer, putting his hands on your hip.

You turn your head away from him, repulsed, "No, I can't. God, I can smell her all over you."

His mouth opens in shock, his hands drop, and he steps away from you. He's pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning against the counter as you rush out of the room.

To say your shift was miserable would be an understatement. Your sleepless night has left you grouchy and clumsy. The latter you discovered when you bumped into another server who was carrying a tray full of dirty dishes that went crashing to the floor. Fortunately only one broke. The night was busy enough to keep Leigh out of your hair, the one bright spot of the evening. Two tables left without tipping which you’re certain had nothing to do with your sunny disposition. 

Steve is standing on the curb leaning against the BMW when you walk out the front door of Enzo’s at the end of the night. Crossing your arms, you huff and start to walk down the sidewalk.

“Hi, Steve,” you shake your head when you hear Leigh's voice behind you.

“Hi, Leigh,” Steve calls over his shoulder as he catches up to you and stops you with a hand on your arm.

“Where’s Eddie?” you ask, shaking him off. 

“Wayne needed him for something. I told him I’d come and get you,” he looks more like himself today, showered and shaved. And fully sober.

“I’d rather walk.”

“Yeah, well, we both know that’s not happening so can we please just get in the car,” he stands there, arms crossed, voice full of reason. 

Rolling your eyes, you change direction and walk back towards the car, hating that he's right. 

He doesn't say anything else as he pulls onto the road. After he misses a turn you realize he's not taking you home. 

"Where are we going?" you ask as you stare out the window at the houses blurring past.

"Somewhere we can talk," he says, heading toward the edge of town. Turning, you look behind you at the way you came, surprised when he turns off the pavement following a set of tire tracks up a grassy hill. It flattens out when you reach the top, there's an antenna that looks homemade, the headlights bounce off a few pieces on the arms wrapped in tinfoil. When Steve cuts the engine, the lights from downtown seem brighter. Hawkins looks serene spread out below you like a picture from a book.  

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, keeping his eyes on the view.

"For which part?" you ask incredulously. There have been too many transgressions.

"I'm sorry you weren't the one in my bed last night," he's looking at you now, gauging your response.

Covering your face with your hands, you slide them up, raking them through your hair before you get out of the car and slam the door. 

A weariness hangs off your shoulders, one that you are too young to be carrying, one that comes later when you've been beaten down by life. It clings to this whole town. Disaster after disaster breaking down its residents, leaving them to clean up the broken pieces. Leaning against the car, you wonder if you'll ever make it out. 

The car door opens and closes. And Steve is standing in front of you. 

"We're just hurting each other," you say, trying to get him to understand. 

"What's hurting us is being apart," he's so sure. How he can be that way when you feel nothing but confused.

"Remember what I told you about when you first showed up with…Eddie. Fuck, I can't even say his name anymore," he scrubs his face with hands.

"Maybe that should tell you something, Steve," you say, trying to catch his eyes as he looks all around the hilltop, "This is wrong to do to him."

"I know, okay. It's eating me up. After what we went through," his hands move to his hips, "I tried. I really tried to stay away from you. When you moved in I was so fucked up. I was so alone. I watched you with him. At first I thought I just wanted someone to look at me the way you look at him but I was wrong. I wanted you. And just having you around was enough but then he…offered you. I couldn't say no," he moves closer, his hand slides down your arm until he can wrap his fingers around yours, "I wanted to kiss you just once and you said yes. After, I noticed it. You were looking at me…the way I wanted you to. I hadn’t seen it before."

"No, Steve-"

"Why did you say yes?" he's asked you this question before, you didn't want to answer, didn't want to think about it but you knew. When you stay silent he steps closer, his body brushing against you, he asks you again, "Why did you say yes?"

His eyes are so hopeful, his heart wide open and you can't hide when he's looking at you like this, so you try and look away. His hand moves to your neck holding you in place. Your head is swimming, and you can't think straight with him this close.

 "Tell me," his hand tightens on your neck, not allowing you to run from his eyes. 

"Because I wanted you," you cry out.

"And now?" his eyes are pleading.

"I still do."

The words spill from your lips, a defeated cry, too weak to fight any longer. His thumb traces your bottom lip just before he seals his mouth over yours, claiming you, and there's no going back. The sounds of his longing escape into the night as his tongue delves inside, hot and slick. He's an arsonist, setting you a blaze, your whole body fully consumed in the white-hot flame, nothing existing beyond this kiss.

Strong hands dig into your thighs as you're lifted onto the car's hood. The cool metal chills your exposed skin when your skirt rides higher as you spread your legs, the hard length trapped in his jeans pressing against your wet panties. The kiss breaks as your shirt is peeled over your head. He licks his way down your neck while his hands rip down the cups of your bra, exposing your soft full breasts into the cool night air, leaving your nipples incredibly hard and aching. His wet, open mouth kisses a painfully slow path until he finally fastens onto your riotously sensitive nipple. He moves from one to the other and back again. The combination of his light stubble and grazing teeth has you singing a chorus of desperate moans. 

"Steve," your soft plea brings his mouth back to you while his hands take turns teasing your breasts, sending sparks to your core.

Your greedy fingers work their way under his shirt, needy for the feel of him. Knowing what you want, he pauses to remove his shirt, a silent pledge that he will never deny you his body. All the beautiful freckled skin covering his lithe muscles is finally accessible to your covetous hands and mouth. There's not an inch you don't want to taste and touch. 

A gruff hum sounds from his throat as your lips close over his collarbone while your nails scratch through the trail of light hair on his belly. His patience is slipping, he cups your jaw bringing your mouth back to him to indulge in one more sweet kiss before he gently encourages you back onto your elbows. His hands stroke up your legs, the stiff corduroy of your skirt is roughly pushed around your waist, and your panties are gone a moment later. Your teeth bite into the flesh of your lip as you watch him free his hard thick cock from his jeans.

"Tell me to stop," his voice shakes while he glides his fat tip up and down the folds of your drenched core. 

"I can't," you gasp as he bumps your clit.

"Please, tell me to stop," he pleads. The two of you stand at the edge of betrayal, your feet struggling for purchase on the rocky cliff. His loyalty for Eddie a fraying teether just about to snap.

"I need you," wrapping your leg over his hip, you nudge him closer, "I want this," you’re too far gone to think of the consequences. 

He surges inside, every inch of him stretching you to complete fullness. Euphoria spins dizzyingly, taking hold as he begins to stroke into you. 

"You feel so fucking good," he breaths, his cock draging along your insides, "I knew.." His hand presses into your stomach while his thumb circles your clit. "I knew once with you was never going to be enough." You knew it too. All along from the very first kiss.

Lowering your head, you lie flat on the car's hood. The rigid steel is unyielding against your back, his wet saliva cools on your breasts, you look up and see stars. The black night sky teams with the glimmering light, and he sees them too, reflected in your eyes. 

"You feel so…" he captures your hand and places it just above your pelvis, covering it with his, pressing down so you can feel him moving under your skin, "you feel like…." he stutters as his tip kisses your cervix, "Mine." 

His deep voice is so full of emotion as his rhythm picks up, and he drives into you harder, "Tell me you're mine," he begs.

"I can't," you can't give him this, he's already taken too much. Above you more stars appear like an enchantment as your eyes dilate and adjust. 

"Please," a piece of his heart has broken off and lodged in his plea, another one he'll never get back.

"I love you," his confession cracks you open, your heart bursting in exultation and agonizingly breaking, "I do. I love you."

"Tell me," His hips snap punishingly, "Say you're mine." His body owns you while his heart begs for you. Tears blur your vision, and the light from the stars fuse together and streak across the sky. You begin to climb toward the edge, almost frightened at how high he's taking you. 

He tugs you up, hugging you closer, his heart drumming wildly against yours, and you wrap your arms and legs around him, trying to protect you both, his cock still thrusting inside-pleasure mixing with the heartache. 

"I love you...I love you…I love you," he chants against your mouth. The words long held back, his only defense against you destroyed, and now they tumble out eternal and unrestrained. 

"Please, I love you," tears run down his cheeks, mingling with yours. Flowing past your lips until their salty taste mixes in his kiss. 

"I love you too," you quaver, the words rushing out, finally admitting the truth as your climax hits and you fall, waves of ecstasy cresting endlessly, body trembling around him, the verity that you love them both shattering you into thousands of sharp pieces that slice you from the inside. 

Your forehead rests against his, fingers smoothing along his jaw, your body still shaking and milking him, you say it again, "I love you, Steve," wanting him to know he's not alone, wanting your words to soften his fall. His muscles tense as he clings to you, a sharp inhale of breath through his parted lips that keep brushing over yours, exhaling a groan as he comes with his cock buried impossibly deep, warmth filling you as he pulses. 

"But I'm not yours."

“I know it’s not supposed to be like this,” you say, sitting in his car parked in front of the house, “I love you, but I love him too.”

“So what do we do now?” he asks, looking up at the light coming from your room. 

“I don’t know,” you know you're hurting him but you're being honest, “Can you give me some time?”

He nods his head but doesn’t look at you. “Are you coming in?” you ask with your hand on the door handle.

“No, I’m going to drive around for a bit,” he tries, giving you a little smile. 

“Okay,” the door creaks as you open it and climb out. 

He leans toward the open door, “I never would have shared you.”

“Isn’t that what you're doing now?” you close the door without waiting for an answer and watch as he backs down the driveway.

Part 7 The End is live.

AN: Thanks for your patience. I know it's been a while between chapters. This one had me in a state. I felt like it ripped out my insides and put them on a platter. Let me take a moment to thank the folks who poked and prodded and seasoned them up for your consumption. @loveshotzz @myobmaya @superblysubpar @boomhauer

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[pullhisteeth]

thinking about getting married to eddie :) (fem!reader)

it's a little courthouse affair because you've not got a lot of money and really you want to save what you do have. so there's the two of you - him, in his new (second-hand) black suit, crisp white shirt and a pretty patterned tie, and you, in a fresh short dress, pearlescent under the town hall lights - and Wayne, and your parents, siblings, whoever it is you want by your side, all crammed in the small registry office. maybe Steve and Robin are there, best man and maid of honour, excitable despite Robin's mutterings about how uncomfortable she is in formalwear. maybe Nance and Jonathan came too, maybe even some of the kids (just think what a good set of bridesmaids you'd have!). you've got your hair done nice and the bouquet is dark leaves and deep red and purple flowers, mixed with baby's breath. it stands out harsh against your pretty dress and when you come in the room Eddie swears he dies and goes to heaven.

the ceremony is short but you make sure to keep it a little traditional, just to indulge yourselves. you stand before one another in front of the officiant, almost toe-to-toe. Eddie's looking at you, eyes all soft for you, welling up because you're beautiful and you're here, looking back at him, giving yourself to him forever. and you're mapping his face, eyes dancing over the creases where he's smiling and quite clearly trying not to cry, and you're praising whatever there is out there that he's giving himself to you, too.

vows are exchanged and Eddie slides a pretty band over your ring finger. you do the same to him and then the officiant says the words and his hands are on your face and the bouquet is on the floor. he kisses you firm and kind, arm sliding around your waist to lean you back, just like they do in the movies. you giggle against his mouth, still delighted by his dramatics all these years later, and hook your arms around his neck to kiss him back as hard as you can. it quickly devolves into more laughs and clashing teeth so he pulls you to stand and grasps your hand, raising it up above your heads as everybody claps, Steve whoop-ing and Robin hollering, and for a brief second you swear you catch Wayne wipe away a tear.

after you get some polaroids out in the hall, stood beside the sign for the marriage office, and after you've signed all the papers and made sure everything is in order, you get to do the party. Eddie gets a deal with the guy who runs the Hideout, so you have the place to yourselves for the evening and it's not costing you a small fortune. everybody you love is there - the whole party, Hopper, Joyce, your own friends and family - and the bar is all yours too. Eddie's friends play you some music, and he even sits up on the stage himself at one point, plugging in his guitar and playing you one of your favourite songs. you have your first dance to something that means everything, a song the two of you adore. as he sways you back and forth you rest your cheek on his shoulder and hold his hand in yours, and you think about how absolutely ludicrous it is that you lucked out like this. and he squeezes you tight, spins you round, pulls giggles from you like he always does, and thinks he truly must be the luckiest man on planet earth if this is his life for the rest of time.

he makes sure to tell you this in his speech which, in hindsight, possibly should have been done before someone cracked open a new bottle of Jack Daniel's. he stands on the stage, suit jacket long gone, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, looking gorgeous as ever, and professes his love to you like he hasn't just married you. you stand below, hands clasped and staring up at him all giddy, feeling the same way you did when he asked you to the movies when you were seventeen. the air in your lungs is all bubbly, fizzing like all the champagne you've been drinking, and with the spotlight behind him Eddie looks like the angel you know him to be.

"my love," he slurs, glass of whiskey in one hand and heart covered by the other, "i tell you every day, but it will never be enough. you are the greatest person to walk this earth, and how you landed here, with me, i will never know."

here, he reaches his hand and squats down. you step forward and take it and he holds it, thumb rubbing over the back of it, eyes on you and you alone. he's already told silly anecdotes, including the one about you falling in a dumpster on your third date, and the one about the pizza place ruining his first attempt at a proposal by sending his custom marry me? pizza to someone else, and now he's gotten all soppy and serious. this is the Eddie you love the most, the one that only really comes out in your own home, over dinner or under the sheets. everyone's watching him, the way he looks at you and the reflected fondness in your own eyes.

"we're gonna take over the world, sugar," he declares, the same way he did on one of your early dates up by the lake, the first time he told you he loved you. "i can't wait," you whisper, words for him alone, and he grins at you and pulls your hand. he drops the microphone which makes a horrible noise and grasping your face between both palms he kisses you, the angle a little awkward considering he's still up on stage, and soon the claps around the room become shouts of get a fucking room, sickos because you can't get enough of kissing your husband and he can't get enough of kissing his wife.

the money you saved gets you a week in California. it's warm and quiet and beautiful and you're so goddamn happy.

[strangermerrick]

backseat [billy h.] 18+

♥ A/N: Another fictional creation that has been hiding in my archives. Posting the Jonathan fic brought me serotonin. Now beware, this Billy piece was written quite some time ago and I tried to touch it up as best as I could. There may be some mistakes, but hopefully nothing too drastic!

♥ Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (pull-out method used however), Billy is sort of maybe a jerk but our sweet Reader adheres to the chaos... Um, a little bit of degradation? Backseat make outs, backseat sex... I believe that's it!

♥ Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

“you can’t be serious,” you look over at Billy who is grinning smugly, cigarette held between his index and middle finger. 

“of course i am, doll face.” Billy’s staggering look sends chills down your spine.

the parking lot was completely empty. it was way past your curfew, but when you were dating the Billy Hargrove, danger called and you answered. the radio hummed with a familiar rock band song. 

“well?” Billy passes you the cigarette. “is daddy’s little girl gonna come out of that tight shell?” 

gasping, you rolled your eyes. “i am not in a tight shell, Hargrove.” you flounce before reaching out and taking the cigarette from him. 

“atta girl…” Billy hums approvingly. sighing, you bring the cigarette to your lips and take a long drag, causing your boyfriend’s blue eyes to widen. “she can be bad?” he mocks you. 

rolling your eyes at him, you give him the middle finger before blowing the smoke from your ruby red lips. Billy’s teeth are exposed, a hand reaching up to push through his dirty blonde curls as he witnesses the sight before him. daddy’s little girl is all nice and bad for him. 

the space was cramped in the back of his camaro, but you paid no mind. you were just glad you snuck out of your home and hopped in before your parents realized you weren’t upstairs studying for tomorrow’s upcoming chemistry test. 

“well, you got me outta the house, Billy. whatcha gonna do now?” you tempt him with hooded eyes, a sultry look filling your face. Billy bites down on his lip as he soaks up the sight of you. he glances to the front seat and pulls himself forward. you can’t help but grab a handful of his tight ass. his jeans fit him so well. 

he swatted your hand as he turned up the radio, Billy Idol’s rebel yell playing through the car’s radio. 

Billy returns to the back seat of the camaro where he settles into the middle seat before pulling you over. he lifts that sweet little dress you opted to wear tonight over your hips before planting you snugly on top of his hips. the metal of his belt collided with your warm thighs, causing a shiver to roll down your spine. 

“thought the good girl could be bad?” Billy asked, pulling at the straps of the dress to reveal a dusty blue bra. he leans forward and captures your lips for a searing kiss, earning you to moan loudly against his mouth as you fight against yourself to not grind with neediness into his crotch. 

“she can be,” you hiss as he bites on your bottom lip, dragging it forward. he tasted just like the cigarette he had already put out. nicotine-infused breath mingled with yours as you tasted his tongue, groaning softly against him as you cup his cheeks. you kiss him with such fierceness, it has Billy purposefully grabbing onto your hips and forcing you to move. 

“i didn’t bring you out here to just look pretty in the passenger seat.” Billy hums, a throaty groan expelling as he hurriedly drives his ring-clad fingers right where you wanted him most. your sex was growing slick with want for him and you knew that if you kept it up, you’d be getting your world rocked in the backseat of this camaro while Billy Idol talked about rebel yelling. 

“you think i’m pretty?” You whimper, kissing his sharp jawline. your eyes which had begun to darken with lust gazed into the blue ones dancing through yours. he looked down at your breasts that were pushed together and almost spilling out before him. with one simple finger trick, he had your bra undone and falling into his lap. 

“think you’re pretty annoying,” Billy grunts.

you gasp, pulling at his hair which makes his eyes wide. he clutches his fingertips around your wrists and stares at you. “i wouldn’t do that, doll.” 

“really?” you tilt your head to the side. “really?” 

Billy and you continue to stare at one another as the song continues to hum from the radio. something shifted in the air between you two, and you suddenly found yourself grinding into his hips. Billy grunts against your throat as he kisses bruises into your collarbone.

“Billy!” you gasp his name as your digits intertwine through his curls. 

he’s digging his digits into your hips as he rakes the dress over your body. 

“undo my belt,” he commands you as he rips his t-shirt over his head, leaving his necklace on. your eyes widen with pure adoration for him as his toned exterior is revealed to you. of course you had seen your boyfriend naked countless times before, but it never failed to snatch the breath out of your lungs. 

you’re hurriedly undoing his belt and ripping it from the loops, a loud whistling sound emerging. Billy throws it to the side and you’re using the headrests of the front and passenger seats to push yourself up so Billy can push his jeans down his legs. thick thighs present themselves to you like a fine delicacy, and you could only imagine sucking against his thighs as you left pretty marks on his skin. 

but neither of you had time for that. Billy’s cock was hard and angry, needy to be sheathed inside of you. 

“hips in the air, c’mon. hurry it up.” he takes on a commanding nature. everyone told you Billy shouldn’t talk to you the way that he did sometimes, but they didn’t understand him like you did. you saw the sweet and passionate sides of him when he eventually let them loose around you. 

“okay, okay, gimmie a sec!” You grunt as you peel your underwear off. Billy’s mind runs rampant with the picture of you drunk off his cock, and he’s a needy mess to have you on it. he had to feel something. anything. 

Barely giving you enough time, he’s collecting your hips into his palms and slamming you down on top of his cock, sheathing himself inside of you. both of you groan loudly at the connection, your eyes blissfully wide as Billy wrecks your innocence. 

“c-condom-” you hiss. “you forgot.” 

Billy shakes his head, putting his fingers into his mouth and warming them up before he places them on your clit. he listens to the pitiful hitching of your breath and the drastic moan that slips free when his wet fingertips make contact with your pulsing clit. “haven’t got you pregnant yet. don’t intend to now.” he growls, feeling as you introduce the perfect tempo. as he guides your hips with both hands again, slamming you on top of him, you start to bounce wildly as your fingertips dig into his shoulders. 

“you’ll regret it one day, Hargrove.” you moan. “oh, Billy! Just like that, oh fuuuuuuuc-” you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he thrusts upwards into you. 

“such a tight little thing for me,” he grunts. “being a good little slut for me.” 

whimpering, your teeth gnaw into the tip of his shoulder as the windows fog up in his car. 

growling and mewling like some starved animal, you and Billy find yourselves soon chasing a high. With the neglect of the condom, Billy times it rather perfectly as he pulls out and spills his cum into the wadded up t-shirt he was wearing once before. 

you gasped for air as you fall limp against him, the song has since changed to another hit of today. 

the moon hung high and the stars were running wild in the sky as you peeked through the small back window of the camaro. Billy’s fingertips dug tiny circles into the small of your back as he worked to catch his breath, his eyes closing and head hitting the holstering of the back seat. 

“sometimes i think you sneak me out of my house just so we can screw like bunnies,” you sigh. 

Billy catches your gaze. “that’s not the only thing,” he shrugs his shoulders, reaching for the pack of cigarettes that were on his center console. 

“yeah? what’s the other reason?” you daringly ask him. 

Billy grows silent, instead you inhale the smoke he pushes from between his lips. 

“i don’t know. maybe i like you or somethin’.” he shrugs his shoulders, not stopping the smile that twitched on his face. 

you smile at him. 

“i think you do too,” you wink, caressing his face, feeling as grabbed your hand and shook his head.

[luvjordie]

Wet Part 2

Find Part One: here

Summary: Steve is dedicated to making things right with you, though he doesnt realize he wants to emerge as more than friends

Warnings: Cursing, use of y/n, implied f reader ( if i messed up w prnouns, same as last time PLS LET ME KNOW), unedited, shitty ending, fighting, alcohol use, unedited asf

———————————

“Okay. We need to talk” Steve had a stern look on his face as he spoke to the girl in front of him.

“Do we though?” Not only was she making him nervous, but she was making the task impossibly difficult for him.

“Yes. I want to start with saying im so-“

“Youre sorry? Really Harrington, thats bullshit you just want to get in my pants” She said, oh so obviously holding back a laugh.

“Robin i swear to god.” Okay, In his defense, Robin did basically force him to participate in this practice argument with him.

“What? You we’re kind of a slut last time you saw her.” Ouch.. he thought. But it was true. Steve most definitely had not been known for his great reputation at ‘boyfriend’.

He was going to suggest that they try again, but before he could speak there was a slight tap on her window before Margo came tumbling into the room.

“BIRDIE! And Steve,” She glared over at him, “I think i left my drumsticks here yesterday, have you seen them? We kind of have a gig at Tommy Hagens pool party and the drummer just might need her drumsticks. Itd be kind of hard to back up Y/ns vocals if i didnt have them, I mean shes really good and has great projection, but she needs something to-“ If it wasnt obvious, Margo and Robin have the same rambling habit.

“Desk, ill be ready in a few. You going to Hagens party too Steven?” Robin asked, hopping off of her bed to help the latter in her search. She knew of Steves history of the boy, but she also knew that he wanted to be financially stable when he was older; and Steves father had made it pretty clear that if Steve cut off his connections, hed be left in the dust for real this time.

“Stop ‘full naming’ me asshole. But yeah I kinda have to. Didnt know you guys had a gig there, though .”

“Must’ve slipped my mind.,” Margo shrugged, but her and Robin gave each other a look that low key freaked Steve out, “Just hurry and go get ready and uh remember what we talked about. Thank you for m’ sticks Birdie, Im out.” Margo kissed Robin on the cheek, and crawled back out of the window less than elegantly. Who was going to tell her Robins parents were out on a couples retreat this week, and that there was no need to crawl out of the window? Not him thats for sure- No fucking way willingly hed sit through another five minutes of their sickening cuteness.

“You should go now too Dingus, party remember? Go get dressed, pick me up in an hour. Well go, have fun, get drunk, talk to Y/n/n. You know like in the good old days” She smiled, like she was up to something, pushing him out of the room slightly.

“The good old days? Really?” Steve was mildly unamused, but left the house all the same. Maybe getting a drink or two in him wouldnt be all that bad, Tommys parties were usually unorganized and chaotic, so he might not even run into Y/n. You know, when shes not on the big ass stage he knows Tommy rented, “just for her.”

———————————————————————

“Margs have you seen my glasses?” You called down from the stage, while Margo maneuvered herself around the few people that arrived early, in search of a beer, or like a caprisun or something. She had range.

“Gave em to Ajax” She yelled, still searching. Before you could turn around and look for the bassist, the glasses flew at you like a paper airplane. You were just barely able to catch them.

“Told you i could throw them up there, you immature ass.” Ajax muttered to Jonathan.

“I wasnt doubting you, dickwad. It was a statement.” Jonathan seemed to enjoy going to the parties where there would be a band playing, especially yours. Anyone else would think he just goes to get a glimpse up your skirt, but to anyone that knew him, it was clear he wanted practice for his future job of photographing rock bands. It was a diverse group of people you hung out with, really.

“Hey Henderson!” You looked up to see Tommy Hagen, the one throwing this party, waving at you from atop the diving board. Once you two made eye contact, he tried- really tried- to impress you with a jump. And it wouldve worked, if when he was about to jump in, a football didnt hit him in the ribs.

“OH SHIT-“ You exclaimed through a laugh, still glad to see that Tommy was able to resurface without needing CPR from Jason Carver.

“Oops-“ Ajax mumbled, as he and Jonathan slinked away together, laughing under their breaths. You shook your head in amusement, before placing the glasses on your head, and bending down to finish setting up the amps.

In no way were you into Tommy Hagen. He was an asshole, and it was pretty obvious that he thought of you as an accomplishment to add to his mental trophy case. Though, itd been a while since someone tried to impress you like that. Not who I wanted to have jumped into a 8 foot pool for me today. You thought, nearly laughing out loud at your own thoughts. HAH, scratch that. I bet he doesnt even remember we dated.

————————————————————————

“We’re late because of you, i hope you know that” Steve mumbled at the girl who was currently holding onto his arm for dear life. Robin enjoyed coming to these things sure, but she needed someone to hold onto in these crowds.

“Its not my fault, I swear. It was in my little green notebook except i think i left it in my overalls at my dad’s house, but the overalls were in my closet at my moms house so i was really really confused and then you came and i didn’t- HEY MARGO! Later Dingus.” Robins rant this time was about how they were thirty minutes late because she couldnt find the paper she wrote Margos favorite color down on. Sickening cuteness, he thought to himself.

Steve looked over at the stage that had been set up in the Hagens massive backyard, to see Ajax up there tuning his bass guitar, and Margo was off somewhere with Robin, but he couldnt see you anywhere. You know, until he did.

You were off by the punch bowl, looking slightly uncomfortable, in the way that nobody but someone whos memorized the way you smile when youre happy would notice. With Tommy Hagen.

—————————————

“Oh yeah, I mean, I leave sometime next week, so i dont think ill be able to make it.” You murmured, slightly annoyed that he wasnt getting the hint. Or that he didnt want to.

“Oh well thats alright princess,” you winced slightly at the nickname, “We can move it to tomorrow if youre free.” He smiled widely, raising his eyebrows as he waited for your response. Before you could turn him down, he spoke again. “Well look who showed, Steve Harrington, everybody. Did you know he was gonna be here princess? I didnt think hed actually show, you know hes kind of a wuss.” Tommy spoke loudly as Steve approached him, in an attempt to draw a crowd. One that worked.

“Oh come on, Tommy knock it off.” You said, trying to dissipate the situation before anyone did anything stupid. Steve and Tommy didnt have the greatest track record when it came to these things.

“Shut it, Hagen. Youre making her uncomfortable, knock it the hell off.” Steve said sternly, stopping a few feet from Tommy.

“Oh and you would know? I mean you guys dated for what a few months, before you dropped her for little miss perfect. Come on man you barely even know the girl, let alone what makes her uncomfortable. Hell i bet you dont even know what makes her comfortable, you know what really riles her up. Do ya Harr-“

Oh my fucking god.

“STOP GUYS STOP WHAT THE HELL- STEVE GET OFF OF HIM WHAT THE FUCK” You were yelling before you could even process what was going on. Steve was beating the absolute shit out of Tommy.

“DINGUS GET OFF OF HIM JESUS CHRIST” Now Robin was joined in on your yelling, along with the majority of the partygoers chanting ‘Fight Fight Fight’ or the occasional ‘Beat his ass Tommy’ and ‘Fuck him up Harrington.’

What the hell did he think he was trying to accomplish here

It wasnt long before the fight was broken up, Steve winning by a long shot, though he was definitely fucked up. You couldnt help the pang of pride you felt for him in your chest though, because according to Dustin filling you in on everything you missed upside down wise, this was the first fight hes won against a human since Starcourt.

It was still a pain in the ass to drag him to your car.

————————————-

Steve woke up to the soft sound of strumming in the next room over. He wasnt really sure of what the hell was going on, until he tried to stand up, and was hit with a horrible pounding in his head, and suddenly all his wounds felt fresh again. Though, technically they were still fresh . It had only been forty five minutes.

He kept a hand on his head, because he felt it was the only thing keeping him from passing out, and padded his way out of his room and into the guest room.

There, he found you singing.

‘You adored me before, oh my good looking boy.’ You sung, softly strumming, while still blissfully unaware Steve had woken up.

You were still wearing the makeup from earlier, purples and navy blues covering your face, to match the bands theme. Your hair was still styled like how it was in the video from the other day. You looked beautiful. Even if you were so clearly stressed out by Steves actions.

‘The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it AGH-“ Now you were aware of his presence. Steve winced at the loud noise, and you apologized quietly, placing your guitar on the guest bed.

“Did i wake you up?” You asked looking up at him as he stood against the door frame, still cradling his head with one hand.

“No, no, you didnt. Woke up on m’ own” He mumbled.

“Good. Now i get to me mad. What the hell were you thinking earlier Steve. That was fucking stupid, Tommy couldve gotten seriously injured, and so could you.” You scolded, grabbing his wrist harshly and dragged him to the bathroom.

“He was being a dick, he deserved it.” He said, as you pushed him against the counter until he got the hint to sit down.

“Move your legs really quick… And youve been a total dick recently, I havent beat the shit out of you.” You reached under the sink for the first aid kit, before standing back up and placing it on the counter next to Steves thigh.

“What do you mean Ive been a dick?” His eyebrows scrunched together when you started laughing. Because of course hed been a dick. Itd been four years, and he was still ignoring you like a twelve year old.

“Okay, okay, that was my bad. I have been a dick.”

“Clearly.” You smiled sweetly at him, before using the towel youd wet as you spoke to wipe the dry blood off of his face.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?”

“Yeah. Go ahead” He was thinking you were just going to ask what he was thinking when he hit Tommy, or something along those lines. Definitely not,

“Why did you break up with me?” He looked at you, straight into your eyes. He could tell, just by looking at you, that you were just curious. No tears, no annoyance, just pure curiosity.

“Honestly?,” You nodded slowly, “I couldnt deal. I mean I wasn’t exactly boyfriend of the century back then. You made me feel.. Light? In a way. Like I didnt have to worry about graduating, or getting a shitty job working for my dad, hell or even what people thought about me. I mean, my girlfriend was going to be a rockstar, “He smiled at you, “But i couldnt go through with it. None of it. I guess I was scared, and Nancy was the safest option, you know? Little miss perfect, is that was Tommy said? Yeah thats what I thought back then too. Its stupid i know, but it was safe.” Steve was looking at you, and the small smile on your face, and he couldnt help but laugh a little. “What-“ He laughed a little more, causing you to join in.

“Wait can i- sorry- Can i clean your cuts first? So you dont double hate me after this?” You said through a fit of laughter, reaching for the first aid kit again.

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” He said, calming down a little in anticipation for the pain.

“Sorry sorry sorry-“ You said as he hissed in pain, eyes closed, with his head leaning into your hand.

“Its all good. ‘S all goodd” He said, looking up at you once more.

“Anyway. I was laughing because youre a total fucking idiot, Steve Harrington. I mean you just beat up Tommy Hagen at his own party, halfway through one of my gigs. Youre still best friends with my little brother, despite avoiding me for the last four years, and youve yet to try and embarrass me for writing songs about you. Youve changed Steve. Its freaky, if im being honest”

“You write songs about me?” He asked. Robin had told him that youd done it before, but he always just assumed they were old songs. From before.

“.. You didnt know?” Now your once curious, calm features, were nothing but pure panic.

“No?? I thought maybe youd met someone in LA, you know?”

“And it doesnt bother you? Like at all”

“I mean i kinda wish you told me, then i couldve asked this three years ago,” He chuckled lowly, grabbing the wrist of the hand that was holding his face lightly, “Can i, uh, could i ki-“ Before he could finish, he was cut off by your lips pressing against his. It tasted like your chapstick, strawberry flavored just as he remembered, and the punch from earlier, still tinged with a but of alcohol. You pulled away for air after a few moments, and the shocked look on Steves face kinda freaked you out.

“Sorry- Shouldnt have cut you off. Thats like, thats my ba-“ This time he cut you off, cupping your cheeks and lightly pulling you toward him.

“Dont be sorry. I should be sorry, I was going to start with sorry, but Robin said it would sound insincere or whatever” He murmured against your lips, causing you to laugh a little.

“I mean you were the one who suggested we kiss- Come on Steve, be better” You scolded mockingly.

“Yeah, yeah. But uh maybe we should tell her and Margo to stop, like plotting either our demise or our like borderline reconciliation-“ He laughed a bit, because it was so, so obvious that was their main goal in life then.

“Borderline? You are really bad at this, Harrington.” You laughed some more, placing a light kiss to his nose.

“Oh shut up, I know you missed me” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Definitely”

a/n: not my best work but im still getting used to writing fanfic again, so im getting there 😭 post’s might be a little infrequent because cheer szn is starting agaim, but i am accepting requests, so if u have any lmkk🫶🏾 i write for steve, eddie, ethan landry, and robin rn (currently hyperfixated on stranger things and scream rn lmaoo)

[crimsonwing62]

Bruh, okay I just had this idea so bear with me...

I'm re-watching heartstopper. now i hyper fixated on this show last year and I'm currently hyper fixated on Stranger Things especially the Fanon of Steddie and The Fruity Four (Six?).

I had a thought - the parallels. The similarities...

Nick Nelson and Steve Harrington - Golden retriever sports king, chaotic bisexual, Heart of Gold, and expected by social structure to be a certain way, date a certain type of person. Meets someone and *learns some things*. Fixated on his hair. A smooth mf whose also a dork.

Charlie Spring and Eddie Munson - The outcast at school but comes out of his shell with his friends. uncertain when it comes to love because of previous experiences. Nerdy, Curly Hair, Smart, Musically inclined. ? Potential MH issues - depending who you ask

Darcy Olsen and Robin Buckley - Awkward, Chaotic Lesbian, Confident in herself, Rejects society by dressing however they want, also musically inclined, Possibly knows Charlie/Eddie via band. The scene on the rugby field where Darcy asks Charlie if him and nick are friends or *friends*, I think Robin would do the same.

Tara Jones and Nancy Wheeler - Confident badass, Observing everything. Less confident in her sexuality than Robin as she hasn't consciously known for long.

Also, The kiss when we were 13 and Stancy dating parallel.

Tao Xu and Jonathan Byers - Film/photography obsessed, not academically inclined but copes well at school and smart in other ways. protective of friends/family

Elle Argent and Argyle - okay there's hardly any parallels between these but I also don't know much about Jargyle.

Isaac Henderson and Will Byers - Quiet, out the way, creative, when they speak they mean what they say and when they relax they come out of their shells. doesn't quiet work with the Byler ship and AroAce Isaac but they're parallels not 100% match up.

Harry Greene and Tommy H - homophobic prick who may or may not be in love with their best friend. (not that Harry and Nick are friends but some friend group)

Ben Hope and Billy Hargrove? - abusive arseholes that hide behind macho bravado. Tries to date women to hide their fruity tendencies (The girl at the gate and Karen Wheeler)

Imogen Heaney and Carol Perkins? - only girl in an all male friend group. Or Tammy Thompson - Tries to woo Steve but fails bc he is in love with someone else (I know in canon timeline

Tori Spring and Max Mayfield - ignoring the age difference, Sarcastic, Observant, teasing, sibling like relationship

Oliver Spring and Dustin Henderson - okay personalities don't quiet match up buuut hyperactive, annoying younger sibling energy, that absolutely adores both Charlie/Eddie and Nick/Steve.

Mr Ajayi and Mr Hagan - kind, amazing teacher who actually cares about their students well being. offers a safe space in their classrooms.

Julio Spring and Wayne Munson - protective quiet presence in their children's lives. not seen much but we know they'll be ready to bat for their kid in a heartbeat if they asked.

Yan Xu and Jim Hopper - no reason other than they "leave the bedroom door open a tad" comment...

Idk that's all I got there's sooo many more characters I've missed but those are the ones my brains found so far.

[whatwouldvalerydo]

The story ✨

As the students work on getting everything ready, Jonathan shares a story so no one falls asleep during their tasks.

Characters mentioned here belong to : @kc-and-co @lifeofkaze @the-al-chemist

Sticking another rhinestone to a mask, Jonathan rubbed his eyes, trying to suppress a yawn, however he still felt tired. Reaching out for another sip of coffee, he looked around the room. Scarlett was sewing up something and despite her pricking her fingers over and over again she put on some band aids and for once wasn’t complaining and doing everyone’s head in. Saffron was humming a song to herself as she analyzed her work, Dana was frowning at a pattern, but still went through with everything as per the instructions.

The boys however were trying their hardest not to fail. Dylan swore he had sown something backwards, Dorian was contemplating his life choices every two minutes. Looking over at Lachlan, he rose his eyes from the mask he was trying to paint.

“Hey, you alright? Do you want to take a break?” he asked him, offering a smile.

“Neah, I’m fine, just tired. It’s different when you sit and not have something to entertain you. But this mask does remind me of a story that actually took place on Halloween, right here at Hogwarts.”

Dylan glanced over at him “Well, go ahead, not like we have anything else to keep us up.”

Ignoring his frown, he smiled “Alright, but just know I’m not as good with stories as my great great gran.”

“It doesn’t matter, I would really like to hear it.” Saffron spoke up, the rest nodding along.

“Alright then.”

“During Angela’s last school year a lot of changes or at least talk of change became the theme. Everyone was about to finish their studies and go on to live their lives outside of the school they have called their home for the last seven years. However, while they still had time to spend within it, several individuals decided to make the best they could with the last available months.

One such individual was Gareth Farr.

Startling Angela, he circled his arm around her shoulder “And where are you off to my creative friend?” She looked up at his face, trying to set herself free, however he grasped her tighter, extending her way an invitation “This year there will be a masquerade party, hosted by me. And you are invited.”

“But I don’t have anything to wear for such an event.”

“Bollox Angela, do you think I have not thought of everything? You will have your dress, I will have my midnight kiss and everything will be perfect. Because it has to be. So what do you say?”

“Can anyone actually say no to you?”

Winking at her, he shook his head. Of course no one could say no to the future duke. And apparently that list extended to the school staff as well, since the party was not a small one, but involved the entire school students and its professors, everything being paid for by Gareth’s family.

But he did not just stop at fancy gowns and suits, no, he ordered decorations for the Halloween ball, actually placing Angela in charge of seeing that everything was up to par. She felt out of place in an instant however with a dazzling smile from the royal and a line, she felt like she understood his vison better “Make it bright like yourself. Think about lights and dazzle. Think sparkles, but grander. Amaze me, I know you can.”

Lights she could do, rows of sparkles enchanted to not go out illuminating the Grand Hall and hallways. Lights being dimed, candles casting warmth all around their bodies. The smell of oranges and other exotic fruits Angela could not even name.

With the help of Victoria, the entire room smelled fresh and elegant at the same time, a smile actually appearing on her friend’s face. They all helped in decorating the sweets, Selene and Ethel making a contest out of it with Elliot and Lysander.

Chaos of the best kind.

Where not even Jin hid, but instead let his curiosity get the best of him. He told stories of ancient time and the origin of the holiday. Reuben picked up Leila and placed her on his shoulders as Siobhan and Galen tied sparkly garlands together and levitated them. Gareth was on his hands and knees carving out pumpkins with the boys, Cledwyn joining them as well.

And at the end, with Angela’s instructions, everything fell into place when she least expected.

The night of the party, she found Gareth sitting alone in a corner, sipping on a drink while watching people dance “Didn’t expect you to be here by yourself. Weren’t you looking for a midnight kiss?”

His lips twitched slightly “Well you see, it is not yet midnight. But Cled is around here, taunting me, which I will allow for a while longer.” Placing the drink aside, he extended his hand out “Until then, how about a dance? Cannot let you stand alone in such a gown and not show it off.”

“I don’t know how to dance.” Angela admitted shyly.

“Nonsense dear, you were born for greatness and when you think you are not, let others offer some guidance.” Taking her to the middle of the dance floor, he carefully guided her, talking to her all the while in order to ease her nerves “So tell me what do you plan on doing after this year?”

“I don’t know. Sorry.” She winced as she stepped on his foot, Gareth ensuring her it was fine “I am crafty, I was thinking maybe I would apply to become an apprentice at Olivander’s.”

Spinning her around, he actually paused for a moment “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t actually know what I want Gareth.”

“Ah.” He smirked “First name basis, I am actually surprised.”

Gasping, she almost stepped on his foot again “Inappropriate?”

“Please” he chuckled as they glided on the floor “I am the most inappropriate one in this room.” Finally having made her smile, she actually relaxed her body, letting him properly guide her. As the song was coming to an end, he motioned for Jin to come closer, offering him Angela’s hand “Do be polite and dance for once, I have to see to my date.” Gareth mentioned winking at Angela.”

“Hold on a second, the Duke of Grafton was gay?” Scarlett asked amazed.

Laughing nervously, Jonathan corrected her “Bisexual actually. And he didn’t actually try to hide it despite what was said, he was very opened about it.”

“No way, you’re making this up.”

“Well, if she lied to the family then I am lying to you.”

Saffron leaned in, her costume already finished “So how did the night end? Did Gareth get his midnight kiss? Did Angela have fun?”

Stretching his legs out, he supported himself on his hands “Well yes, Gareth and Cled did have their kiss, grans barged into them in the hallway actually. She lost a shoe after a few drinks and swore a gnome snuck under her dress and stole it off her very foot while she was performing a dance move never seen before.”

“That bad?” Dana asked laughing.

“Certain it was pretty cringe.” She room filled with laughter, Dorian hushing them since they needed to remain quiet if they did not want to be found. Sneaking around was one thing, having his father find out another, but the thought of his mother finding out he wanted her to actually distract his dad so they could sneak and have a party made him shiver.

By sunrise they all managed to finish the costumes, Scarlett assigning the names of the students they needed to reach “So tonight we meet up in order to finish decorations and ensure everyone has their part ready or on the go. Get some sleep. Jonathan, I’m counting on you alright?”

“I know, don’t worry.” Turning to Lachlan and Dylan, he smiled “I need your help you two. We have some work to do.”

[tooquirkytolose]

Finishing strangers things 4 vol 2 but vibing to the end credits song

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Don't Leave Me This Way

Warnings- angst, marital spats, language, a hint of spice

A/N- After a decade together, Honey and Leon have come undone. But on the anniversary of the day their lives changed, Leon decides to mend that. For @forenschik

Part One:

Honey was, in a word, incensed. That Leon would even think about the two of them going out on a weekday bothered her. Then again, at this point in their busy lives going out on ANY day bothered her. But that, Leon told her, was the problem. It was eat, sleep, work, kids, eat, sleep, work, OCCASIONALLY have sex. Throw in Sunny’s growing powers and the odd alternate universe traveller for good measure. That was the rhythm of married life she responded rather dismissively.

Leon took the club scheduling book out of Honey’s hand and held it high above his head where he knew Honey couldn’t fathom reaching it. “How about fuck off with this rhythm of life.”

“LEON!” Honey both whined and raised her voice at her husband as she scrambled to her feet and attempted to climb him. When that didn’t work, and he simply laughed at her and held the book higher, she stood on the desk chair. “How about you go fuck yourself?”

Leon threw the date book. Honey jumped to go after it, but he blocked her move. He held her tight in his arms so she was made to stand still. “Fuck’s sake, I was asking for a date. Now I’m telling you. You’re gonna go upstairs and get ready and put on that sexy purple dress. I’ve packed up The Littles. We’re taking them to your parents, and then we are going to that Italian restaurant you love on Mulberry Street. Then we’re coming home, and you’re getting a right good seeing to.” Before she could protest Leon clamped his hand over her mouth, “Now.”

Honey shockingly obeyed her husband. Her face crimson with anger as she held her chin in the air, arms crossed in front of her chest before throwing up the double finger. In the shower she realized something. It had been so long, and their lives were so busy, that Honey couldn’t discern being mad from being turned on. A lump formed in her throat because she was ashamed. Or disappointed? When was she ever NOT enamored by Leon? Maybe this date was exactly what they needed.

---

“I don't know, I think we should maybe homeschool Sunny. He's not going to have a handle on anything until he's come to the end of what he can do. Maybe we can communally teach him? Selina is fine, she always will be. She could use other normal kids. I think she and Sun are too dependent on each other. They're only six and seven. Usually that level of codependency comes later in life. Like you and Jonathan. I don't know, what do you think?”

Leon watched as his wife took her first breath since their dinners arrived. She swallowed most of her wine before chasing a tortellini around her plate. Her head in one hand like an insolent child instead of a woman in her thirties. Honey looked at Leon expectedly. He took a breath of his own, but she interjected just as he was about to speak.

“They might resent us if we separate though. Sunny needs to feel as normal as possible. They're in Montessori school, so all those kids are bound to be a little strange too. I guess if they were homeschooled you would have to cut back on your classes, and we would have to scale back on bookings.”

Leon clenched his jaw between sips of his bourbon. He stabbed at his dinner, chewed and swallowed while simmering. He sat back with the expectancy that Honey would continue, uninterrupted the same way she had for the last decade. He could feel the simmer start to boil just below the surface while, sure enough, she kept on.

“Punk is just taking off. I know CBGB is where it's at, but Hilly’s been a mensch sending us Patti, Debbie and The Ramones. I know we're still stuck in folk, but I REALLY think it can turn around into rock. There's this outrageous glam or metal or whatever band from LA. Oh! Did you get to hear that demo from the Irish band? Klaus said they're like, one of the biggest bands in the world. I don't know if that would be in our timeline too, but he's onto something. Get in while we can. But who wears sunglass-”

“αρκετά!!” Leon yelled. ENOUGH!

He banged a fist on the table which drew attention from nearby diners. His nostrils flared with anger and embarrassment. While the outburst mortified Leon, he also wouldn't take it back. It was his only means of getting Honey’s attention. And it did.

She sat back with her arms crossed. One eyebrow arched in challenge. Honey was no shrinking violet. She did tend to her grudges like a little garden. If she had to add Leon to it for a little while, so mote it be.

Leon’s face softened, his shoulders sank while he bit into his lip. Then he sat up straight, an air of defiance about him. Before she knew what was happening, Leon slid Honey around the booth with ease so that they sat side by side. He made a bold move when his wife turned away from him.

Leon snuck a hand inside of Honey’s bare thighs. He knew her. Knew she wouldn't be wearing any panties. It wasn't even meant as a tease. She just couldn't with this particular dress. He took advantage of that.

Letting two of his fingers delve inside of his wife, Leon slid them as painfully slow as possible. Her body reacted. It became instantaneously wet allowing him to slip in with ease. He continued in Italian.

“Tesoro mio, non stai zitto da dieci anni. Hai chiesto la mia opinione e io ne ho una.” His fingers pumped faster. One found her clit for a brief moment before abandoning it “Ora sii una brava moglie e lasciami dire la mia.”

My sweet, you haven't shut the fuck up in ten years. You asked for my opinion, and I have one. Now be a good wife and let me have my say.

Honey swallowed oxygen and choked on it. Her heart pounded in places she forgot carried a beat for the man beside her. Her hips shifted forward while she spread her legs to accommodate Leon.

“I'm.. sorry..” her breath came out choppy. “What.. what do you think?”

Leon removed his fingers and draped his arm along Honey’s shoulders. It curled around her neck but with a gentleness. All of the anger dissipated seeing his wife submit to him so easily. That sexual reminder he had as much agency in this marriage as she did.

“I think,” Leon lifted Honey’s chin so her face drew closer. Instead of her lips he kissed her forehead and caught her gaze, “It's time to send the Littles away without us.”

Honey inhaled ready to release a protest. Leon clamped a hand over her mouth. “For longer than a few days at the lake. Or a weekend down at the shore with your sister's kids. Or overnight at your parents place. It's time Yía Yía takes them to Greece.”

Leon felt his wife’s body start to tense. He knew she was processing what he had to say but was prepared to fight him every step of the way. He kept on, “We can take the kids to London, stay a day or two. Then the two of us are going away together for the first time. Not a weekend here. Or a day there. PROPER vacationing just us.”

“We-”

He cut Honey off with a kiss this time. “We can afford to close the club for a while. I love you, and I bloody love our kids. The three of you are my whole fucking world. Don’t you think we’ve gotten a bit lost? It hasn’t been just us since the 60s. You don’t even know what day it is, do you?”

Honey blanked. Her eyebrows knit together as her brain searched back through time to what she may have missed. Why a random day at the end of August was so important. Leon stared at his wife, willing her to remember. He knew she maybe just took it for granted that this instance had always been there. Neither could remember a time when it wasn’t.

Honey’s body deflated. “Oh, Leon.” Hot tears sprang to her eyes which she angrily wiped away. “When HAVEN’T I loved you? I don’t think I was ever able to boil it down to our last time away together. Has it really been ten years? I always thought the moment I saw you was the moment I fell in love. I held you at bay didn’t I?”

Leon used his thumbs to brush the tears away from her cheeks. One traced along her bottom lip before he pushed her hair off her shoulder to kiss it.

"Gracie, look at me." He lifted her chin again so their eyes met. She sniffled. "I think you know that little bits of me and you could scatter across the cosmos, and we would always find one another. It's why we need to get away, the two of us. C'mon, wanna go for a walk?

He stood, laid more money down than necessary, and reached for Honey's hand. She took it but rebuffed the rest, "Leon, it's midnight. It's the hottest summer on record. And someone is murdering women with dark hair and their lovers."

"So?!" She frowned. "Oh bugger off!" he teased. "Klaus said his name's David Berkowitz, and he never goes outside of Queens. I just want to hold my missus's hand and walk beside her a little while. That's all."

How could Honey resist?

Part 2 coming next week 💋

@elliethesuperfruitlover @magic-multicolored-miracle @maerenee930 @nightmonsters @neuroticpuppy @firstpersonnarrator @frogs--are--bitches @rob-private @bisexualnathanyoung @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren @duck-noises @feed-davis-and-steve @ghouls-buddy

[voiceless-terror]

Can you do 11 truth or dare confessions for jonmartin please?

Hey there, anon! Here you go. Another one of my prompts that quickly got away from me. This isn’t so much confessions as it is hijinks, and I saw ‘drunk confessions’ right below it and it turned into this.  Hope you enjoy!

Jon chooses truth. Martin chooses dare. The team goes out after work and discoveries are made.

“I love everyone in this bar!” Tim shouted to a loud cheer. It was a Wednesday night.

Wednesday.

Sasha had no idea how Tim had managed to get all of them, including one Jonathan Sims, out on the town. Something about a spider and a book and several cups of tea. Sasha hadn’t been listening.

And here they were, at Tim’s favorite Friday night haunt, downing shots and eating greasy food even though they had to report back to the institute at nine in the morning tomorrow. For Jon it was most likely closer to seven.

Jon, however, seemed completely unaware of this.

They were sitting at the bar for easy drink access. Ergo, Jon had gotten his drink refilled several times without any of them noticing. And this wasn’t including the rounds the rest of them had already bought. He must have some stress to work through, Sasha mused. He was currently hanging half-off the bar stool, staring dreamily at the lights on the dance floor as if entranced. It’d be cute if he wasn’t almost cross-eyed.

Martin definitely found it cute. He wasn’t as drunk as his boss, no, but he was well on his way. He’d done nothing but stare at him all night, nodding eagerly at his many info-dumps and pushing several plates of fried food at him that Jon refused to eat. Sasha and Tim both knew he had it bad, but this was too much to watch. 

Sasha would have to intervene and put the plan in motion. It was the perfect time- Martin wasn’t nervous or stuttering, and Jon was mellowed out on liquor, swaying gently to the music pounding through the speakers. It was now or never. She slammed her hand down on the counter, startling her companions.

“I propose a little game of truth or dare!” She gave Tim a sly smirk and his look of surprise soon changed to a mischievous smirk.

“Oh ho ho, Sasha. What a great idea.”

“We’re at a bar,” Martin argued, taking a slurp of his drink. “How is that even going to work?”

“Oh I’ll make it work, Martin,” Tim replied rather threateningly. “We’re doing this to help you. Boss, you in?”

Jon’s gaze slid over to them, clearly disinterested in their current conversation. “Hnn?” he questioned intelligently.

“Shots, boss! You in?” Tim gestured and the shots materialized as if by magic. Jon threw one back without so much as a flinch. It was a wonder to behold. Martin looked as if he were drooling. He probably was.

“Tim!” Sasha shouted, back to the matter at hand. “Truth or dare?” 

“Let’s start off easy,” he rubbed his hands together in glee. “Truth.”

“Boo,” she jeered, teasing. “Riddle me this: who is your most shameful lay from our esteemed institute?” Martin began sputtering, and Jon looked to be tuning them out.

Tim tilted his head in consideration, suddenly very serious. “Well, it depends on your criteria. Are we talking in terms of looks? Personality? General grossness?”

“Hm, let me rephrase,” Sasha didn’t want to be too mean, though she was excited to get any gossip she could. “Who is the unlikeliest one? Someone we wouldn’t guess at all.”

“Oh,” Tim leered, clearly ready to divulge something juicy. “You want me to go through the ol’ rolodex, find the needle in the sex stack.”

“Disgusting,” Jon slurred, shoving a fry in his mouth. Martin nodded in agreement, though he was hanging on every word.

“Y’know Hannah?”

Sasha searched her memory. “From Artefact Storage?”

Martin shook his head. “No, from the library.”

“You’re both wrong,” Tim raised his eyebrows suggestively. “From research.”

Martin and Sasha froze. Even Jon joined in, swiveling his head to face Tim with a look of shock. “Egg-salad Hannah?”

“The one and only,” Tim answered as the rest of the table broke out into exaggerated gagging and looks of disgust.

“Seriously, Tim? Did she brush her teeth, at least?” Martin took another swig of his drink, still in disbelief.

“Did she offer you half her sandwich when you were done?” Sasha and Martin broke out into giggles. Tim was silent.

“Oh you didn’t-”

“Fuck you, it was actually good-”

“This is why you shouldn’t have sex,” Jon nodded sagely. “It always ends in egg salad.”

“Precisely!” Martin slammed his hand down on the counter in agreement. “Wait, what?”

“Moving on!” Tim made a sweeping gesture with his hand, ending it with a point at Jon. “Boss-man! Truth or dare?”

Jon squinted his eyes. Sasha did not know if this was in concentration or confusion.

“Boss?”

“I don’t want to participate,” He took a demure sip of his whiskey and coke. “Truth.”

“Alright, alright! What is…” Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully, considering his options. “Hmm. What is something we’d be shocked to know about you? Like proper shocked, mate. What’s your weirdest secret?” He leaned in close, a patented Tim Stoker Seduction Move, complete with half-lidded eyes and a smirk. Martin shoved him off the bar in a surprising move of aggression and Sasha barked out a laugh.

“You don’t have to answer that, Jon-” Martin began to assure him.

“Yes he does!” Tim argued, leaning back in his seat and rubbing at the elbow Martin had shoved. “That’s the point of the game.”

“We shouldn’t force him to answer-”

Sasha tried to interrupt. “No one’s forcing-”

“Not yet-”

“Here,” Jon shoved his phone into Tim’s hands; it was loaded to a YouTube video of a grainy performance of some band.

“What is this?” Sasha leaned in to look along with Martin, squinting at the screen. “Is this some concert you went to?”

“You could say that,” Jon replied, oddly coy.

“Is this like steampunk?” Martin questioned, leaning in even further. “They’re all dressed-”

“Wack as hell,” Tim finished, though he was smiling. “I dunno, I kinda like them. Lead singer’s hot.”  Jon let out a drunken giggle, and this is when the video zoomed in, losing focus for just a moment before-

“Jon is that you?” 

“Don’t be daft, Martin, that’s- holy fuck that's Jonathan Sims.”

“It’s me!” Jon drunkenly whispered, almost sliding off of his seat. Sasha stared at the figure on the screen. It was Jon. Hair down, younger, and covered in makeup, but she’d recognize that voice anywhere. She looked back to her boss, glasses askew and sweater vest wrinkled. What the fuck happened to you?

He was surely going to regret this night come tomorrow.

Tim couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, currently holding it a few centimeters from his face. Martin had an intense look at odds with his loose inebriation. He turned to her, strangely serious.

“Dare.” he said, no room in his voice for argument.

“It’s- it’s not your turn, Martin,” she stuttered. “It would be Jon’s, technically-”

“I. Pick. Dare.”

Well, alright. Now or never. Jon’s revelation had forced her hand.

“I dare you…” Sasha looked over to find both Martin and Jon staring at each other, their gazes oddly charged. Martin looked like a man on a mission, while Jon seemed to be openly challenging him, eyebrows raised. Am I missing something?

“...to kiss the most attractive person in this bar!” The words had not been spoken for more than two seconds before Martin had taken Jon in his arms in a sweeping kiss, like something out of a fairytale. If fairytales involved Archivists and their assistants and took place in dingy bars on Wednesday nights. Jon’s arms immediately wrapped around Martin’s neck, dragging him deeper into the kiss.

“Finally!” Tim whooped. He’d stopped watching the video in order to document the event, phone set to record. Jon’s leg had somehow wound itself around Martin’s waist and Sasha was beginning to feel like an intruder in this very public bar. She turned to Tim.

“Wait, finally?” Sasha asked, confused. She hadn’t planned for it to go this far, or for Jon to even reciprocate. She thought she’d help Martin get a kiss on the cheek or something equally as innocent, not whatever...this was. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Wow Sash, I thought you were the observant one,” he stopped recording, slipping his phone back into his pocket. God, when are they going to come up for air? “They’ve been playing footsie all night. It was disgustingly cute.”

“I-Jon likes him back?” she stared at the two, who had stopped kissing but were still entangled, Jon whispering something in Martin’s ear that he giggled at. “When the fuck did this happen?”

“This afternoon, I think,” Tim took a sip of his drink and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Well, I don’t know how long Jon’s had feelings. But God, you should’ve seen them today. Jon screaming about this spider and Martin just fucking smashes it with a book, decimated it-”

“But Martin loves spiders!”

“I know! But not as much as he loves Jon, apparently. Took one look at his scared little face and just destroyed the thing. I thought Jon was going to propose right then and there. Completely love-struck.”

Sasha pouted. “You know how much I hate being left out! You should’ve told me, we could’ve changed up the plan-”

Tim shook his head. “And miss out on Jon’s secret past? Perish the thought!”

“Huh,” Sasha tilted her head. “I almost forgot about that. What with all the kissing and such.” Martin and Jon were still lost in their own little world. Hopefully they’d remember it come morning, but if not-well, there’s always Tim’s video. She leaned into his side, yawning.

Tim gave her a sly smile. “Say, how’s about me and you-”

Sasha laughed, shoving his arm away. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about egg-salad Hannah-”

“That was one fucking time!”

[winterscaptain]

transfer request. part four.

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

a/n: part four is finally here! i am working on part five, and have a special treat with that one. i am so excited to continue this story with you all :) i’ve also decided that jack is short for jonathan because i simply cant imagine they just named him jack flat out and im not sure his name is john either so i made an executive decision lmao  rating/words: teen / 1600 no warnings apply!

another disclaimer because people Have Questions - i have made jack short for jonathan because of a friend friend i had growing up who was a jonathan who went by jack :)

AO3 | Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

The wedding approached faster than anyone thought possible.

The deep, cleansing breath Y/N takes as she stands at the top of Dave’s gorgeous staircase certainly doesn’t feel all that deep or all that cleansing. She holds tight to Derek’s arm like a lifeline, gripping the fabric of his black button-up.

Jack is a few steps in front of her, carrying the rings. He looks up at her, and she winks at him, trying to hide her nerves

“You okay, sweetness?” Derek pats her hand where it rests in the crook of his elbow.

She nods briskly, smoothing a hand down the front of her dress. It’s a stunning garment – heavy silk hangs off her shoulders in layers down to the floor. It frames her figure perfectly – she is only five or so months along, but there is definitely a pronounced swell that hadn’t been there a few weeks prior.

“Just a little nervous Aaron won’t be there when I get down there.”

Derek snorts. “He’ll be there. He can’t outrun me and wouldn’t try.”

She smiles and kisses Derek’s cheek.

+++

In the backyard, Aaron leaned against one of the pillars framing the porch, his hands in his pockets.

“You’re better off than me, Hotch.” Will takes a sip of his beer, standing at Aaron’s side. “When JJ and I got married down here, I wasn’t sure she was gonna come back down the stairs.”

Hotch chuckles. “She’ll come down eventually, just like JJ. Of that I am certain.” He looks over at JJ, sitting beside Spencer with Henry in her lap. She looks up and grins at Hotch, giving him a thumbs up. He smiles back at her.

Dave walks over to Emily and hands her a glass of wine. “How lucky we are to be among family.”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Dave, now is not the time for a sermon.”

“No, it’s not,” Dave replies, pointing at Aaron with his cigar. “I’m saving it for dinner so I don’t steal Penelope’s thunder.”

Garcia, under the arch with her script in-hand, winks at him.

+++

Jack steps up the stairs and takes Y/N’s other hand. “Are you ready?” He asks.

She nods, leaning down to kiss the top his head. “Yeah, love. I’m ready.” She looks at Derek, who looks back at her with a gentleness in his eyes. “Please don’t let me fall.”

He kisses her forehead. “Never, never, never.”

There are lots of kisses going around, but it’s just one of those days.

Derek pulls her close. Jack’s hand rests in hers as they slowly descend the stairs.

When Aaron comes into view, under the canopy of lights and surrounded by their family, tears spring into Y/N’s eyes. She swallows, and Derek holds her tighter. Jack still holds onto her hand, the rings locked in his other fist.

Aaron’s face breaks out into a smile, and they’re both grinning at each other like idiots by the time the four of them are standing together.

Derek kisses her cheek and places her hand in Aaron’s. Derek steps back behind Dave, taking Jack with him and keeping a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Penelope begins then, welcoming their family to “this ridiculously exciting and long-overdue event.”

Y/N and Aaron can only smile at each other until it’s time for them to read their lines.

 “...in sickness and in health.”

“...for richer or for poorer.”

“...in the field and at home.”

“I do.”

“I do.”

Penelope nods at Y/N, and she beckons Jack forward. Jack hands the rings up to Derek, who drops them safely in his pocket.

When Jack reaches the space between her and Aaron, she drops to one knee, holding her hands out. He places his hands in hers, and she grips them tight.

His brown eyes look into hers, and it's like they’re looking through each other rather than at each other. She knows she’ll never take those eyes for granted – whether in the face of her stepson, her husband, or any other children they have.

“Jonathan Hotchner, I may not have given you the gift of life, but life sure did give me the gift of you.” When he smiles, some tears escape Y/N’s eyes, falling onto the ground at her feet. She only halfway processes Aaron’s hand coming to rest on Jack’s shoulder as she continues. “I promise to be by your side through all your triumphs and sorrows. I can’t promise I’ll always do the right thing or say the right thing, but I can promise to love you with all my heart, every day, forever.”

Her vows to Jack were short, but they’d taken her forever to write. She’d spent hours sitting at Aaron’s desk in the new den, pen in her hand, lit only by the warm yellow desk lamp.

“What are you working on in here?” Aaron came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“It’s a secret.” Nevertheless, she made no attempt to cover her project, and she waited as he skimmed through her scribbles and revisions. Three sentences. I need to give my stepson better than three sentences. What else was there to say to the most important child in her life?

“Are you writing vows for Jack?”

Y/N nodded and twisted in her chair. “I won’t do it if you think it's dumb or –“

She was interrupted by a firm, almost desperate, kiss. “It’s a great idea. He’ll love it.”

Jack jumps into her arms and Aaron snags her arm as she’s thrown off balance. White dress be damned, she sits on the cold stone of the patio with Jack more than halfway in her lap.

“I’m glad you’re my momma.” He says it so quietly she almost missed it.

“What should Jack call me after we’re married? I’m not sure I want him to call me by my first name anymore, but I also don’t think I should be Mom, for Haley’s sake.”

Aaron sighed, tightening his arms around her. It’s nearly midnight, and the darkness is like a blanket cast over the bedroom. Aaron’s such a finicky sleeper – requiring total darkness – that with the curtains drawn, she could barely see him.  “You are and will be the closest thing he has to a mother. Don’t worry about replacing Haley. Do you have any preliminary ideas?”

“I’m thinking momma, or even something in another language. In Hebrew, mother is Ima, or the Polish Matka, that kind of thing.”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I really like momma for you.”

She shifts to kiss his bare shoulder. It’s a silent thanks.

Aaron’s crying now, as is Dave, JJ, and Penelope. Derek is barely keeping it together, and Emily passes tissues with one hand while the other is wrapped in Spencer’s. They’re all together, safe and sound.

Y/N is openly weeping, one hand stroking Jack’s hair and the other rubbing back and forth between his shoulder blades.

“I love you so much, baby. So so much.”

She looks up over Jack’s shoulder to Aaron, who offers her a hand. She takes it and rises, keeping a hand on Jack. Both she and Aaron take a big breath and wipe their eyes.

Derek passes the rings to Aaron, who passes them to Jack.

Jack slips one of the rings on his father’s finger – a simple silver band with four small diamonds. Aaron presses a kiss to his son’s head and turns him gently by the shoulders to face Y/N once more.

When she holds her hand out, Jack slips the silver ring and twists it so it locks in with her engagement ring. Together, the rings create an intertwined diamond setting. The insides of the bands have all of their initials in raised letters on it, designed to leave an indent in the skin whenever the ring is removed. They designed the rings as a family, making it all the more special.

“By the power vested in me by the great state of Virginia, and the internet, I now pronounce you married!” Penelope bounces on her toes and grins.

Aaron raises an eyebrow at her, and she laughs.

“Oh my god just kiss her already.”

Aaron takes Y/N’s face between his hands and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips. Their family whoops and hollers around them. His hands fall to her abdomen and rest protectively around her. When they part, they press their foreheads together, eyes closed. She brings Jack close to her and they stand there as a unit for a moment, basking in the joy of the moment.

+++

Their first dance as a couple is slow and quiet. They hardly move, just shifting back and forth together, only loosely connected to the music. Pair by pair, their family joins them on the dance floor as the songs change.

Derek and Penelope are first, all at once playful and intimate. JJ and Spencer are next, but only after they hang Henry and Jack’s blazers over a chair and situate them with a soccer ball on the grass. Will abstains from the dancing for now, playing goalkeeper to Jack’s forward.

Emily and Dave join in once their wine glasses are empty. Everyone is flush with alcohol or joy or both.

Y/N has one arm looped around Aaron’s shoulder and the other wrapped in his hand over his heart. He quietly sings along to the music, his cheek pressed to her temple. She looks up and him and kisses him softly. His lips trail to the sensitive spot behind her ear and his warm breath makes her voice catch in her throat.

“I love you.”

She feels his smile against her skin. “I know.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics​ @quillvine​ @stxrryspencer​ @agenthotchner​ @hurricanejjareau​ @fics-ilike​ @octothorpetopus​ @ange-must-die​ @ughitsbaby​ @rousethemouse​ @criminalsmarts​ @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal​ @icantswimhalp​ @genevievedarcygranger​ @ssaic-jareau​ @good-heavens-chris-evans 

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

“That’s a straight no.”

“What? Why?”

“Come on,” You laugh. “I can hear the sirens coming for you now. She looks like she’s a junior in high school.”

He cocks his brow, “You do too and I still live with you.”

You playfully smack him. “That’s different.”

“Why? Because you can't handle seeing me with someone else?” He says smugly.

@mochminnie and anyone else that would like to get tagged :)) 

(Chapter one) 

Morning of Nancy & Jonathan’s Wedding

The daylight shines on his face when he wakes up. He looks down to see you’ve disappeared and instantly thinks yesterday was a dream. He’s almost disappointed.

“You snore too loud.” You say as a matter of factly, coming out in a robe and towel. 

It wasn’t a dream. He smiles.

“You hog the blanket too much.” He retorts, flipping the covers over and getting up to stretch. 

"It's like thirteen degrees outside of course I'm going to take it."

"There's layers to this, you know that right?" 

“Alright, alright Casanova, do you want to stay here sparring with me or go find the love of your life?”

He stretches his arms, then sighs. “Not sure if I’ll meet the one if I’m half-naked.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” You wink, going back inside the bathroom to get ready.

Only an hour later and you two were nearly late because he decided to play hideaway with your heels. You didn’t protest as much but they were the only fancy shoe you’d brought to match the nuptial’s dress code. 

You rushed into the elevator, counting down to at least ten minutes. It should be enough time to walk over to the chapel. 

You glance at Steve, seeing him look out of it. 

“Hey,” You tug at his arm. He straightens up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just been a while.”

Part of him wondered if they would remember him after so long.

“Well if they’re not talking about you, they’ll be talking about how messy and out of place you look. Here, let me fix you.” You fix his Windsor knot stay in place and then move his floppy hair, letting a single curl of hair rest on his forehead.

“Is this really how you styled it?” You lift yourself on your toes to get more of it but he moves aside.

“Hey, hey, don’t damage the goods.” 

“Is that - hold on, ” You take a whiff of his hair. “Oh my god.”

He rolls his eyes. “Alright, laugh it up.”

“You smell like my mom!” You chortle. 

He pushes you playfully as the elevator doors open and he walks out with you hysterically laughing. He smiles nervously at the passing guests as they file out to the chapel.

“That’s so cute. Listen, if you don’t end up with anyone our age here, you can definitely bag one of the aunts. I’m sure they’d love you.” 

“It was my go-to in high school, alright? Girls loved it.”

He can see the subtle upward quirk of your mouth as you smothered a laugh. 

“C’mon, before we become those people who hog all the attention.” You interlinked your arms and made your way past the field of green and a big brown chapel. 

You both sat in the middle row on Nancy’s side, meeting all of her family and being introduced to her sister Holly, brother Mike and his girlfriend Jane. You couldn’t stop staring as Mike and Jane sat and goofed with each other. 

“Been together since ‘84, and they still can’t get enough of each other,” Steve tells you in a hushed voice as he leans to you and begins giving you the dirt on everyone there.

Jonathan’s mother, Joyce sits at the front with a gruff looking man who kept trying to take out a pack of cigarettes. She’s pretty, and definitely doesn’t look as old as Steve says she is. She has a timeless beauty to her. Steve tells you that the man she’s with is Hopper, the same man whose wedding you would be attending later in March. Jonathan’s brother, Will sits to his mother's left and is in deep conversation with a man Steve doesn’t recognize. 

Steve goes on a tangent on how different and grown-up everyone looks. He goes into details about things they used to do back in Indiana, some things crazy and others unbelievable. He almost sounds sad for not being able to see their growth for himself but that’s not a story he’ll tell you anytime soon.

You’re conversing with Jane when everyone quiets down and music starts playing. You stand and watch as Jonathan marches right up to one step to meet his brother and hug him momentarily. Holly enters, picking petals out of the basket and dropping them as she passes. Nancy enters soon after slowly, keeping tempo with the music. Her dad is older, more filled out, and grey-haired than Steve originally remembers him. Her mother, however, is stunning in a way that doesn’t overshadow her daughter. Her blonde hair is pulled into a half updo, she smiles warmly to guests as she carries the tail of Nancy’s beautiful cream dress. It's an eye-catching tulle gown with floral accents and lace sleeves that move comfortably with her. 

Nancy’s brown hair is long and curls at the end, decorated with a pearl headband, her slender nude manicured fingers holding onto the bouquet gracefully as if she was a princess. She’s naturally gorgeous, with touches of blush on her cheekbones. She takes your breath away. 

You’re almost a little jealous Steve got to date her. 

“Please be seated.” The priest says.

You accidentally sit on Steve’s hand, making him jerk quickly but fast enough to avoid attention. You're locked in the entire time, entranced by every little detail from the soft brown tones of Jonathan's suit to the camera pin he wears to the embroidery on Nancy's heels. 

The ceremony is beautiful, you even catch Steve tearing up at Jonathan’s thoughtfully written vows for Nancy. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

The crowd goes wild, cheers and whistles all around as Nancy and Jonathan kiss and he twirls her in a circle. She’s smiling shyly as Jonathan peppers her with kisses. Will steps in and takes a couple of photos before whispering something into Jonathan’s ear and making him laugh. The bride and groom rush outside hand in hand, rice and flowers being thrown as they disappear past the golden-brown of the chapel. 

You and Steve give each other a look, thinking this wedding plan might not be so bad after all. You’re seeing love in its purest form. 

The reception is held in a small banquet hall, music is being played by a band of fine instruments led by people Steve tells you are part of Nancy’s family. The whole place is decorated to bring out the snow and natural elements outside. Windows wide open, the brown of the hall illuminated by fairy lights hanging from above, a cute photo booth with a retro moon to pose with, and a DJ soon after the band leaves. 

“Come,” Steve says, intertwining your hand in his and leading you over to where Nancy and Jonathan are. 

Jonathan notices him first and immediately hugs him. Steve hugs him tighter, letting them sway for a moment while you introduce yourself to Nancy.

“Hi, I’m -”

“You must be the one Steve talks so much! I've heard a lot about you!” She giggles. My god, even her laugh was beautiful.

“Beautiful wedding! I am in love with you - your dress, I’m sorry.” You say, flustered. Nancy takes no offense and instead envelopes you in a hug. 

“Thank you! It was a lot of stress but I'm glad we could finally get it to come to fruition. Steve never told me you were this lovely.”

You wave her comment away, feeling shyer than ever. “Please, I’m just so glad I finally get to meet THE Nancy Wheeler.” 

“I hope you’re not trying to steal my wife,” Jonathan beams, bear-hugging you. 

"I would never." You grin. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Byers.” 

“Mr. Byers was my dad, please call me Jonathan.”

You nod, feeling the warmth and love that Jonathan and Nancy were giving off.

"So? How are you two? How's New York?" Nancy asks.

You and Steve glance at each other to see who goes first.

"Good! So good." You say in unison. 

“So what’s going on with you two, huh? Any crazy stories?” Steve asks, eager to get the attention off of him for once. 

“Well,” Nancy looks at Jonathan. “Jonathan was a freelancing photographer for a while but he was just hired for a two-year contract by Life magazine!”

You and Steve look at Jonathan wide-eyed and with jaws dropped. Jonathan smiles shyly.

“Jon, oh my god congratulations!” Steve says, pulling Jonathan into another hug. 

“It was just a split-second decision, he almost didn’t send the photos in time but I convinced him.” Nancy smiles. "They want to send him to Amsterdam next week."

"Europe for the honeymoon? That's amazing." You gush, thinking about the canals and all the great food.

“And that’s not all,” Jonathan rubs at Nancy’s back with his other hand. “Nancy’s accepted a job up in New York as a journalist.”

“No way!” You feel your excitement skyrocket.

“We’re moving into the East Village in March, just after my mom’s wedding.” 

“That’s amazing you guys, I’m so happy for you.” Steve is absolutely over the moon. 

“Thank you and please help yourselves!” Jonathan’s eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Hope to see you guys soon!” Nancy exclaimed, before being met with more family to greet. You and Steve say goodbye and gush over them. 

“I can’t believe you got to date her.” You remark, sipping more of the champagne.

“Yeah well, I was lucky to even kiss her. Looking back, I think they had it for each other all the time. I was just in the way.”

Projecting onto her, he thinks.

You frown. “Personally, I’m glad to see it all worked out in the end. To the happy couple!” 

You bring your glasses to toast and snicker when some of it spills onto Steve’s lap. He tries to get you back but you evade him.

The orchestra ends and the DJ begins his set. He starts off with some lovey-dovey tunes you remember your mother playing from her childhood.

“Come on, let’s dance!” You exclaim, taking Steve’s hand and pulling him up and away from the table. 

The dance floor is decently packed, The Del-Viking’s “Come Go With Me” echoing through the walls of the banquet hall.

Steve makes a fool of himself, flailing and dancing exaggeratedly while you move side to side to the dum dum dum, occasionally doubling over when Steve stumbles back into someone.  

The music shifts after you two are completely tired out, changing to The Smiths’ “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”. Definitely Jonathan’s choice.

You and Steve pair up, dancing slowly with your head on his shoulder.

It’s a nice feeling, to be like this with someone. You didn’t know how you felt about Steve, besides the fact that he could be annoying as all hell and a bummer. But he wasn't so unpleasant to have around. He just needed to let loose. He wasn’t going to be twenty-eight forever. 

Maybe it was too early, you saw how he’d freaked about Danny. 

“Hey, five o’clock.” He whispers in your ear, ripping you away from your thoughts.

“What?”

“What about the girl at five o’clock? She seems nice.” 

“Spin me.” 

He spins you out to see a girl in a nice pastel blue colored dress and bouffant talking to Jonathan. He spun you back in.

“That’s a straight no.”

“What? Why?”

“Come on,” You laugh. “I can hear the sirens coming for you now. She looks like she’s a junior in high school.”

He cocks his brow, “You do too and I still live with you.”

You playfully smack him. “That’s different.” 

“Why? Because you can't handle seeing me with someone else?” He says smugly.

“Pfft. She’s got babyface. Just trust me.”

The music shifts throughout the night, some electronic, another alternative, or more classical and then back to lovey-dovey. 

At the end of “Earth Angel,” you’re just about ready to leave and kick off the heels that just won’t quit squeezing your feet. 

“I’m starving.” You whisper into his ear.

“There’s food here.”

“Yes, and I’m still hungry. I need to severely gorge on something big right now.”

Steve chuckles lowly, about to make the joke you feared once the words ‘something big’ left your lips.

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Yes, dear.” He snickers. 

Once you’re away from the view of family and friends, you unbuckle the straps of your heels and breath in relief at your chains being taken off. Steve walks past you but you whistle to him to catch his attention. 

“Well? Come on.” He motions for you. 

You throw your head back and whine. “I can’t walk. These things have worn me down.” 

He chuckles to himself shaking his head. “Alright, hop on.” 

He turns and bends to your level, letting you climb onto his back like a monkey. You wrap your arms around his neck, him holding you up by your thighs. 

You nestle comfortably into his shoulder, letting out an audible sigh. 

“Don’t get too comfortable up there, you have the keys to the room.” He warns, but you’re fast asleep by the end of the sentence. "So much for being hungry."

He gets soft looks and compliments of ‘being a great boyfriend’ from different guests but he doesn’t have the energy to correct them. The dancing tired him out. 

He uses the pointy end of your heel to click the elevator button and is careful with you when entering. Your soft sighs and deep breaths comfort him in some way. Your fingers twitch around his now loosened tie, softly scratching at the nape of his neck. It gives him goosebumps, but he relaxes into it, letting the warmth creep up to his cheeks.

He’s too lost in the feeling to notice when the doors open, the elevator dings to alert him. When he’s out, he shakes you slowly to wake you up. You stir and hum but stay asleep. He maneuvers your bag to face him, getting the key painfully slow. The door hinges creaking don’t wake you at all. 

He lays you down onto the side where he sleeps, careful with your shoes and your bag. Putting them aside, he makes a move to close the door but your hand grabs at his wrist and pulls him back. 

He glances down at you, still asleep but still holding on. “I have to close the door.” He whispers.

“Steve.” You murmur. 

“Yeah?” He brings himself to ask, entranced by you. 

You mumble incoherently, letting go of his wrist and turning your side to get comfortable.

He sighs. 

"It was a nice wedding." He says, getting the suitcases out of the cab while you tip the driver. 

"It really was. Plus I'm glad I got to take one of these suckers home too." You dig through your bag, pulling out the towel teddy bear that had previously been on your hotel bed. It looked a little deformed now but you could fix it.

Steve makes a surprised noise, "We steal things now?"

"It's not stealing if they were just going to put another one back."  

"Well, I wish could've taken some of that shampoo. It made my hair smell great." 

"Oh don't worry I got a couple of them in my suitcase. You can have them."

He looks at you with intrigue. 

"What? We can't live fancy?"

He shakes his head, his shoulders shaking as you head into the apartments.

"Hey, sorry I ruined your shot looking for someone at the reception."

He shrugs, feeling it wasn't a big deal. "That's why we have the other three, right? Plus, I had fun. I wouldn't have wanted to be in my head the entire time." 

The answer satisfies you but you promise yourself to aim higher at the next wedding. 

[mischiefandspirits]

Titanic Beginnings

Part of the Six for the Age of One AU

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick was excited when Bruce helped form the Justice League, babbling on about Bruce’s new friends and begging to meet them. Damian also wanted to meet the JL, but to appraise them to see if they were worthy of his father’s time and ensure they were capable of watching Batman’s back.

Not wanting the boys to get involved in the more punishing missions the JL faced, Bruce continually denied their requests.

That was ruined during a meeting a month later when Superman sheepishly admitted that his sons had also been badgering him and his wife to meet the other JL members and asked if he could bring the boys to the next meeting.

Green Arrow, Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, and Martian Manhunter appeared as resistant as Bruce. However, Wonder Woman adored children and agreed before any of them could speak up. She even offered to bring her young sister to keep them company. Aquaman agreed as well, mentioning that his apprentice could use the land experience. Flash and Black Canary were fine with it, which left the League at an even split.

At a nudge from Canary, Arrow broke the tie by reluctantly agreeing to bring his protégé.

Any ideas Batman had at keeping his boys out of it were dashed when Lantern turned to him and asked if he would also be bringing his kids. Superman sent him a look that clearly stated he would invite the boys if Batman didn’t so the Gotham vigilante nodded after giving Lantern a fierce glare.

Batman, Robin, and Serin were the first ones to the temporary headquarters the Justice League were using while Batman, Arrow, and Lantern finished the work on the space station they were retrofitting.

Before they arrived, Bruce had reminded Dick that, allies or not, only Superman knew the Bats’ identities and it was to remain that way for the time being. He had also negotiated with Damian. The boy wouldn’t challenge anyone to a fight and would abide by sparring rules with anyone who challenged him, no matter what abilities they may have. In return, the boy could assess whoever he wanted. He also allowed the boys to bring their dogs, hoping that would help keep Damian from going too far.

Titus (or Birdhound as Dick insisted despite Damian’s arguments that Great Danes weren’t hounds) had swapped out his red collar for a yellow one that matched Serin’s belt and had a tag with Serin’s logo on it. He also wore a grey ballistic vest with dark coral straps and handle. Haley (or Bitewing, a play on a character from Dick’s favorite story in Bruce’s extraterrestrial files) had a green collar with Robin’s logo hanging from it in place of her usual blue. Her vest was red with canary straps and handle.

Robin and Bitewing immediately went off to explore while Serin and Birdhound stayed at Batman’s side as he got things ready for the meeting. The boy kept an eye on the meeting room’s door, so he was the first one to notice the Supers’ arrival.

Superman was talking to his foster son when they walked in, his younger son flying over them with wide eyes. Superboy (aka nine-year-old Jonathan Kent) nearly looked like the spitting image of his father with his blue-black curls and neon blue eyes that didn’t quite look human, though his nose and lips were shaped a bit more like his mother. Meanwhile Hyper (aka fourteen-year-old Christopher Kent) only shared his foster father’s physique, his skin not having that same natural sun-kissed look while his hair was a dirty blond and his eyes were a bright amber that was just a little too close to yellow to be humanly possible. Superboy was wearing jeans, red high tops, and a Superman costume shirt that had a small red cape attached. Hyper was even more underdressed in just jeans, black tenner shoes, a yellow and blue flannel, and a black shirt. A black band wrapped around his wrist, appearing to all the world like a watch though, having helped create it, Batman knew it was a device to help Earth’s newest kryptonian keep control of the powers he’d developed on arrival.

Robin reappeared suddenly, dropping down onto Superman’s shoulders. “Heya, Kal!”

“Hello, Robin,” the man chuckled.

The twelve-year-old did a backbend so he could hold a hand out to the older boy. “Hi! You’re Hyper right? Kal’s told us about you.”

“Oh, yeah. Or K’Riss. Uh, K’Riss-El, but just K’Riss is fine,” Hyper said, accepting the hand.

“And I’m Jon!” Superboy said, dropping down in front of Batman and Serin. He smiled up at the man before holding his hand out to the other boy. “Dad’s told us about you too. Nice to meet you. I like your dog. Can I pet him?”

The eleven-year-old looked at the hand, then glanced over Superboy’s outfit. “No. What kind of attire is that for fighting crime?”

The half-kryptonian looked down at his clothes and shrugged. “I thought it looked cool.”

“It offers no protection.”

“They’re kryptonians,” Robin pointed out as he stood up on Superman’s shoulders so he could pet Bitewing, who was leaning out of a vent on the ceiling. “Their skin is better armor than the stuff we wear.”

“What if they were to lose their abilities? A shard of kryptonite would easily pass through that flimsy shirt.”

Superboy frowned and glanced back at his dad, which gave Batman time to give his son a reprimanding look and hold out his hand.

Serin scowled and palmed him a small lead case.

The Supers didn’t notice the actions, distracted by unsuccessfully trying to get Bitewing out of the vent.

“Neither of us really dressed for fighting crime,” Hyper said over Robin’s soft cackling, pulling away from the vent. “Jon’s too young for that stuff and I’m still getting my powers under control. Our superhero names are more honorary than anything.”

Clicking his tongue, Serin crossed his arms. “Heroes or not, we are in the base of a team of superheroes. You should be prepared to be attacked at any minute by any of the members’ various enemies.”

Superman aimed an incredulous look at Bruce, who shrugged.

His son wasn’t wrong.

“Hello there!” Wonder Woman called as she walked in with a teenage girl in red and black Amazonian armor.

The girl looked exactly like a fifteen-year-old version of her sister with her curly brown-black hair, warm olive skin, and dark green eyes. She gave a smile that looked a bit more forced than her sister’s, which quickly dropped away when she noticed Superman still near the vent with Robin clinging to his back. “Why is there a dog up there?”

“She likes it in there,” Batman grunted when Wonder Woman looked like she was going to try to help as well.

“She’s Robin’s,” Serin added, which did explain it if you knew Robin.

“Dogs shouldn’t be inside vents,” Wonder Woman said pointedly.

“And children shouldn’t nap in chandeliers,” Batman muttered, earning snorts from Serin and Superman. Accepting that the issue wasn’t going to be dropped, he gave Robin a look.

The boy pouted, then gave a sharp whistle. Instantly the pitbull sprung from the vent, hopping off superman’s chest, then Hyper’s shoulders, before landing on the ground as gracefully as her boy despite her missing limb. Robin dropped to the ground next to her and scratched her neck before grabbing the handle on her vest and going over to greet the Amazons.

Wonder Woman introduced her sister as Troia, who had recently left Themyscira so she could learn more about Man’s World at her sister’s side.

After respectfully greeting the sisters, Serin turned to Superboy. “See, the Amazons wear armor.”

“Well, they aren’t quite as durable as us,” Superboy shot back.

“They also don’t have a well-known weakness to a rock, yet they still understand the necessity to be prepared for battle.”

“So that one is definitely Spooky’s,” Lantern joked as he walked in with Hawkgirl.

Robin did a cartwheel into a backflip, landing in front of the two with Bitewing racing to stay by his side. He gave the heroes a wide grin, leaning cutely against the alert dog. “Hi, I’m Robin! It’s so nice to meet B’s friends! I like your wings, Ms. Hawkgirl! They’re very pretty!”

“Thank you,” she said, bemused.

Lantern gave Batman a smirk as he shook Robin’s hand. “You sure this one’s yours and not Supe’s or Wonder Woman’s?”

Robin’s grin turned sharp, then he pulled away.

A green flash lit the room and Lantern was left in just a black tanktop, Flash sweatpants, and mismatched fuzzy socks. The man yelped and looked down to find his ring missing from his hand. His gaze shot up, but Robin and Bitewing had disappeared with the light. “What the heck!?”

The boy’s laughter echoed around the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere.

“Okay, maybe he is yours.”

“Why is Lantern in his sleeping clothes?” Martian Manhunter asked as he and Aquaman came in with a young Atlantean.

“Robin stole his ring right off his hand,” Hawkgirl answered with poorly hidden laughter in her voice.

The test pilot scowled and held out his hand. His ring shot out from inside Batman’s cape. As it slid onto Lantern’s finger, returning his suit in a flicker of green, Robin and Bitewing poked their heads out of the fabric. He pointed at the smug boy. “You won’t do that again.”

“Unless I want to.”

“Kid -”

“Hey, my first idea was to come up and throat-punch you so be glad I just stole your ring,” he snickered, slipping back into the shadows. “Can’t talk bad about my family if you can’t breathe.”

“It seems the Bat’s family are as entertaining as he is,” Aquaman joked. He set his hand on the young Atlantean’s shoulder. “Speaking of family, this is my mother’s ward and my apprentice, Aqualad. Lad, this is the Justice League and their young companions.”

The boy appeared to be around fifteen with alabaster skin that was edging towards grey. His eyes were plum-colored and his hair was long and pitch black. With teeth slightly sharper than a human’s, he smiled and gave a small bow. “A pleasure. You may call me Garth.”

Baring the Bats, the group all greeted Aqualad cheerfully. Batman grunted and nodded with Serin copying his actions while Robin’s hand poked out of the cape to wave.

Before anyone could introduce themselves to the newcomers, Arrow and Canary entered with a grumpy thirteen-year-old.

Speedy had fair skin and pale red hair, alongside eyes hidden behind a domino mask like the ones Robin and Serin wore. Batman knew from his day-life that Speedy’s backstory wasn’t too far off from Robin’s. He’d gotten Oliver Queen’s attention during an archery contest so when the boy’s adopted father died, Oliver took him in.

“Are we the last ones here?” Canary asked.

“We’re still waiting on Flash,” Wonder Woman answered.

“As per usual,” Hawkgirl joked.

“Well, in the meantime,” Arrow set a hand on Speedy’s shoulder, “this is Speedy.”

“‘Sup,” he said, giving a sarcastic salute.

Introductions went around. Robin took the distraction as his chance to slip out and greet Aqualad and Speedy properly. As the time for the meeting grew closer, the group got the kids settled in a room near the meeting room. Just as they were about to leave for the meeting, a steak of red shot into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” Flash said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re actually on time,” Superman said. “Though you’ll have to wait to meet the kids until after the meeting.”

“About that…”

A second streak came into the room, which turned out to be a red-headed teenager. The boy was tan and freckled. When he pulled up his goggles to smile at the group, his eyes proved to be a grassy green. “Hi, there! I’m Kid Flash!”

The group turned to Flash, who was pinching the bridge of his nose. “My nephew became a speedster last week. I’m training him how to use his powers.”

“Then I’m going to be his sidekick!”

Batman held back a snort at the imploring expression Flash gave him and Superman. The kryptonian patted the speedster on the back and led him out of the room with the others following.

Behave, Batman said with a grunt, giving his boys the kind of glare that would have the JL flinching back and the criminals of Gotham fleeing.

Robin batted his eyes innocently and Serin gave a half-hearted nod.

When the meeting was through, the adults returned to find the room worse for wear.

Robin and Kid Flash were sitting cross-legged on a battered table (one of the few remaining pieces of furniture) with Bitewing draped over their laps. They were both fidgeting with the dog’s ears and tail as they happily talked about a fight the Bats had recently had with Penguin.

Serin and Troia were standing off to the side near some cracked flooring, talking about the Amazonian knife she was showing him. Superboy was sitting on the floor next to them, though he appeared more focused on the pets he was giving Birdhound.

The last three boys were standing next to a hole in the wall. The older two were inspecting the hole with guilty frowns while a snickering Speedy patted Hyper on the back, looking more relaxed despite the bruise on his cheek.

“What happened in here?” Arrow asked, all the adults except Superman and Batman looking shocked at the destruction.

“Sparring competition,” Superman answered, proving he’d kept an ear on the kids throughout the meeting.

“We locked a bunch of superpowered and vigilante children in a room together. I’m just pleased the room’s still standing,” Batman added.

Robin and Kid Flash laughed while Speedy bit down his own laughter at a look from Arrow.

Lantern slapped the archer on the back. “Lighten up. As much as I hate to admit it, Spooky’s got a point. We should have known the kids would screw around and set them up somewhere a little less fragile. So, who won?”

“Troia, technically, since Robin was disqualified after the tournament was over,” Kid Flash said.

Batman turned to Robin, who gave a wide grin. “I don’t want to know.”

“I would have won had I had my full arsenal,” Serin said petulantly.

“He was eliminated because Superboy managed to bear hug him right at the start of their go and he couldn’t squirm free before the time ended,” Robin explained.

“You utilized kryptonite in your spar with a kryptonian so I do not see why I couldn’t!”

Superman gave Batman a look and the vigilante sighed, holding out his hand.

Robin skipped forward and dropped a lead case into his palm. “For the record, I brought blue kryptonite.”

“Was that why you were disqualified?”

“No.”

I will be having a conversation with both of you when we get home, he said with a grunt and put the case in his belt.

“And how did you fare?” Aquaman asked his apprentice, coming over to set his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I won my match against Kid Flash, but Robin proved too formidable an opponent.”

“I lost first round to Troia,” Speedy said before Arrow could ask as he and Canary came up to the teen.

“His close combat abilities could use some work, but his skills with a bow are comparable to some of our best archers,” Troia argued. “Had our arena been larger, the fight would have been much closer.”

“Yeah, Arrow’s not too good at close range either,” Canary said, earning a huff from her boyfriend. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll show you a few tricks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you're wondering why I put Donna in armor instead of one of the suits she wears in the comics, I ask you this: Why the flip would she want to wear some spandex suit when she could wear sick Amazonian armor? This applies to Cassie too.

And yes, Dick's treatment of Hal is a reference to a certain movie and a certain TikToker. Thanks for asking.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Would it be too much trouble to ask for s/o having a spooky encounter with ghost Speedwagon? Perhaps s/o is cutting through Ogre street when this occurs?

Oh finally some content for the number one waifu! I know this is a yandere X reader blog but this idea was to hard to just let go. It's more platonic if anything but if you all really like it I might continue it.

We've met before

(ghost Speedwagon X Female Reader drabble)

You stretched your arms up as you walked down the streets of London. Today had been a rather busy day. First there was the morning lecture at the University of London, then another Vietnam protest you attended and then for the night you and your band mates had to do your final rehearsal before Friday night.

"You tired?" Your boyfriend, Louis King asked as he walked beside you.

"It's just been a busy day… and I can't help but feel a little nervous about our concert this Friday" you replied as you let out a sigh before looking up at the night sky. It was a perfect summer night that you would have enjoyed if it weren't for how drained you were.

"I'm sure we'll do fine, why else do you think we'd get picked to play? Who knows we might even have a scout take notice" he responded before giving you a smile. His frizzy black locks bounced with every step he took and his darker skin seemed to glow under the street lights.

You two intertwined hands as you both continued your trip home until you both had to take separate paths.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you back to your dorm?" He asked.

"No I'll be fine, besides I don't want anybody snitching on me" you replied before kissing him on the cheek.

✳️✳️✳️

You were afraid to admit it but you had the feeling that you were lost. You pulled out the map and had a look, you were still fairly new to London. You turned it, confused as to where the hell you were.

You looked around the ally you were in to see a dead end one one side and two men approaching on the other. You knew this wasn't good but this situation seemed all to familiar, like you had been here before in the same situation. They began to charge at you yet you stood in place unable to move. As one of the men grabbed you, you almost automatically delivered a swift kick to where the sun don't shine. The other came at you with a knife which you quickly knocked it out of his hand and dropped him to the ground but did not attack either of them further before looking to the other side and seeing a peculiar male standing in the corner, dressed in clothing that you assumed was from the Victorian era. Yet something about you struck you as familiar about him.

"What are you doing here?" You asked him which caught his attention.

"Who the hell is she talking to?" One of the men asked the other.

"I don't know but I'm not staying around this crazy bitch" the other replied before they both got up and ran away.

"You can see me?" The blonde male asked.

"Clear as day, especially with the outfit you're wearing" you replied. A smile appeared in the males lips as he walked up to you.

"Why were you just standing it the corner anyway? You could have helped me" you continued as you raised an eyebrow.

"Well I'm afraid I can't, even if I wanted to" he said as he brushed a hand though you, sending a unnatural sensation through your entire body.

You flinched at the feeling, nearly falling in the process.

"A poltergeist!" you only managed to say. Your eyes were wide as you looked at him.

"Yes indeed I am, the name is Speedwagon, Robert O.E Speedwagon" he said.

"Speedwagon… Robert Speedwagon…" you muttered, knowing the name but not knowing how. As a matter of fact he seemed quite familiar, even this street did.

"I don't know why… but it feels like we've met before" you stated as you began to click your fingers, hoping the answer would spark.

"I know what you mean, something about you seems so familiar…" he replied.

"Is your father named Joseph by any chance?" He asked you seemingly out of the blue.

"No… I don't know any Joseph, why do you ask?" You replied.

"Oh my apologies, it's just you remind me of a friend, I thought you may have been related to him" he explained.

"Well maybe… I met you in a previous life Mr.Speedwagon… perhaps that's how we know each other" you said before looking at your watch, it was 7:30.

"Well I'm sorry to cut things short but I really got to get back to my dorm" you explained as you scratched the back of your head.

"Anyway it was a pleasure to meet you Mr.Speedwagon. My name's (Y/n) by the way" you said before you turned back only for your bag strap to break causing your bag to fall and spill it's contents. Posters, banners, music sheets and vinyl records of Jimi Hendrix, deep purple and king crimson scattered on the floor.

He would have offered to help you pick them up but he instead looked at the items scattered on the ground.

He noticed that the posters you had were for protest he'd heard over the Vietnam war and the sheet music was all original, seemed you were quite the musician.

Once you finally left he was in deep thought about what you said about possibly meeting him in a past life life, thought it was nothing more then a assumption he couldn't help but remember that strong and noble aura you possessed, it was almost identical to that of his dear friend Jonathan.

[randomwordprompts]

If It's Magic | Chapter 11

Summary: Let's meet some new characters!

Taglist: @wakandan-flowerz @bakarilennox @yaachtynoboat711 @wakandas-vibranium @brwnsugababe @storibambino @thadelightfulone @reaperdeldrunk

A/N: I'm trying to get back into writing regularly, so feedback is always great.

The sounds of a big band playing old standards was the background music to the idle chatter that floated around the Manhattan ballroom. With various doctors, lawyers, and city officials scattered throughout, one might think that the Lector children stood out like a sore thumb. But, thanks to Hannibal's published studies being known globally they didn't get a second thought for being there in his place. All of that aside, the siblings were on a mission. Francois met up with their information source on the inside, who took them to meet the mark in question.

"Dr. Black, there are some people that would like to meet you."

Pausing the conversation with his wife, he turned to face the group with a smile that was so practiced it was believable if you didn't know any better. Jacob Black was a handsome man that had clearly aged well, his salt and pepper hair styled to perfection.

Dr., this is Francois, Jonathan, and Amira Lector. They’re here on the behalf of their father, Dr. Hannibal Lector?”

“Ah yes, Dr. Lector! I’ve read many of his studies and am a bit of a fan of his work. It’s nice to meet you three. I trust you’re enjoying yourselves?”

Francois spoke to the doctor of how happy they were to be attending in their father’s stead and the usual spiel of small talk that came about at events such as these. As everyone was talking and getting to know each other a bit more they were joined by another person. A young man who looked to be about the same age as Jonathan, slim and blonde with Jacob’s jawline and Mrs. Black’s eyes approached. He smiled at the small group before speaking.

“Hello mother, father. Who are your new friends?”

Before Jacob could introduce them Amira spoke up, her hand extended towards him with a warm smile.

“I’m Amira Lector and these are my siblings, Francois and Jonathan. We’re here on behalf of our father, Dr. Hannibal Lector. You must be Joseph, your parents were just talking about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he replied as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She smirked coyly before going, “Anything bad you can prove wrong...or right.”

Jacob and his wife exchanged a knowing look behind their son’s back, recognizing the blatant flirting he was doing. Before Joseph could go any further Jacob decided to speak once more.

“Son, this is Amira’s first time here. Why don’t you show her around?”

“I’d be more than happy to if that’s what the lady would like.”

Amira stepped closer with their hands still connected.

“The lady would love to. Let’s start with a dance?”

Joseph’s brows rose at her forwardness but happily led her to the dance floor as the band began to play Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft”. He pulled her into his arms with ease and a smile that has probably charmed the panties off many of the daughters in that very room, but Amira found herself amused at how open his aura was. She knew he’d be easy to get info from once she got him to drop his “just a nice rich boy” act. With that in mind, she decided to take the direct approach.

“So, I think we’re far enough for your parents not to hear us. I go to the New School and heard there was this guy selling goods that looks a lot like you. What’s up with that?”

Joseph almost stumbled while they danced but caught himself before smiling at her forwardness.

“What’s up with what exactly, doll face? I have friends that go there, but I need to know what kind of goods you think I’m peddling.”

Amira leaned in so that their lips almost touched, her front pressed tightly against his before whispering, “I heard you have access to the best coke, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for a taste.”

Joseph audibly swallowed as her scent invaded his nose in the most delicious way, that combined with the softness of her body and voice casting a bit of a spell over him. His body immediately reacted and she noticed, subtly stroking her thigh along his crotch as they danced. Before he lost his mind she pulled away a bit, an innocent smile on her red lips as they continued to dance.

“When you put it that way, I think I just might have something for you. Meet me in the coat check in about 10 minutes and I’ll have something sweet just for you, beautiful.”

As the song ended they parted ways and she returned to her siblings to catch them up. She found them chatting up Dr. Black and some of his colleagues, the thought of how proud Hannibal would be to see his children rubbing elbows with these prestigious people brought a genuine smile to her face as she approached.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt you all,” she started before turning to her siblings, “I have some writing to finish for my psych class so I’m gonna grab a drink, freshen up a bit, and my siblings can escort me back to my dorm?”

Francois and Jonathan understood what she meant and let her know they’d have the car brought around. Amira left the group to meet up with Joseph while her siblings continued to converse for a bit longer.

Once at the door of the coat check room she gave two soft knocks to the door and was quickly greeted by the young man, who invited her in with that same charming smile.

"You know, I wouldn't have expected such a beauty to be into this stuff. But how much are you looking to buy?"

Amira shrugged, "We all have our vices, Mr. Black. But I think an eighth is enough to start. How much?"

"Only 100 for an eighth, but I've got other things as well. You ever tried heroin with the coke?"

"You mean speedballing? Heard of it, never tried it."

Joseph grinned with a devilish glint in his eyes, clearly having either tried it or seen its effects before.

"It's pretty damn good from what I've been told. Since I like you, I'll give you some heroin on top for an extra 50 just so you can try it out."

Amira hummed thoughtfully before reaching into her clutch and pulling out 200 dollars without batting an eye, Joseph holding a bag he kept stashed in the room in case he got any high-end "customers". He pulled out the pre-packaged and measured drugs, handing them to her as she handed him the money. She placed the drugs into her purse and thanked him before leaving the coat check room, looking around to make sure no one saw her. A vibration from her phone alerted her to a call from Jonathan.

“Hey, you good?”

“Yeah, I just got the candy. You brought the car around?”

“Yeah, me and Fran are in the car now. We’ll see you in a few.”

“Alright, on my way.”

With that, she slipped down the stairs towards the lobby as Joseph came out of the room behind her, heading back towards the party. Once Amira reached the lobby, she gave the doorman a smile and another to the driver that opened the door of the town car in which her siblings awaited her. As she got comfy and settled, the driver began to take them to their next destination.

“So what did you get?” Francois asked, lighting up a pipe filled with weed.

Amira pulled the drugs from her clutch and handed them to Jonathan, who inspected the packaging carefully.

“Coke and heroin? What the fuck did you do to get him to give you both?”

“He offered it for an extra 50 bucks and wanted me to try a speedball.”

Francois sat up, “What is a damn speedball?”

“It’s when you inject coke and heroin together. Very dangerous since they do the opposite shit to the body, but the high is said to be unreal.”

Jonathan shook his head after hearing her explain it, “Well, either way, he put what's gotta be his burner number on here so I think that part is for you, short stack.”

Amira pulled out her phone and put the number into it, saving it while reading some texts she missed while at the party. During this time they ended up back at the dorms as the car came to a stop. Jonathan sat back and slipped the drugs into his pocket before speaking again.

“Okay, so we’re gonna take these to the lab for some testing to see how pure it really is. We’ll get back to you in like a day or two with the results, you just see what other info you can get from Joey in the meantime.”

Amira nodded, “For sure, I’ll keep y’all updated if I learn anything. I’m sure he’ll be happy to get a call from me, given that he was imagining what was under my dress the whole night.”

“Of course he did, I made the dress.” Francois snorted.

After exchanging a bit more information and some goodnights, the three Lectors parted ways. Amira got out of the car and walked into her building, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted a familiar figure waiting for her in the lobby.

“I see you got my text,” she said.

“Of course, and looking at you now I’m so glad that I did. You look good enough to eat, Mira.”

Xavier walked up to her and looped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers in a slow kiss. Amira slipped her arms over his shoulders and returned the kiss eagerly, pressing herself even tighter against him. When they finally broke the kiss she giggled seeing traces of her lipstick on his lips.

“You look pretty edible yourself, but I’m kinda tired tonight. Let’s go up to my dorm and just chill tonight?”

“I’d love that, mon petit. Want me to order some food from Night Owls while you change?”

Amira grinned, “You know me too well. Make sure you order some drinks too.”

“I know you well enough to know not to order food without drinks. Now let’s go so you can change before I try to wake your fine ass up.”

She snorted out a laugh before turning to lead him towards the elevator, looking forward to spending some time with the towering demon.