#and moves them both to cali

[hardestgrove]

so i’m writing transgirl slayer billy and i’ve now written buffy and billy multiple times and i was realizing this just now

it’s the same fucking picture. billie is just buffy with a few inches, a worst attitude and a shittier dad.

[cinnabeat]

instagram giving me baffling questions again

[kennahjune]

Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

.

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper.  It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly. 

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though.  He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all. 

And the way that Harrington looks at you?  Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit. 

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust. 

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy.  Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored.  He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful.  He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love. 

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this.  You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door. 

***

thanks for reading :) comment to be added to my tag list for this series.

tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

[itsghvstfvce]

WHAT'S IN A NAME | PART 2

pairing : tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary : you can keep running, but you can't run from who you are. | read part 1 here!

word count : 4.1k

warnings : scream vi spoilers but anika lives here bc she deserves better, violence stab stab stab, mentions of blood, swearing, reader is momentarily athletic, and as usual, shitty non-proofread writing lmao

Tara drags you back to her apartment with Sam and the rest of her friends that evening.

As you expected, Sam was not on board with you staying with them since you were practically a stranger to everyone. But once she saw Tara beg with the cutest pout on her face, Sam knew there was nothing she could do. She did, however, stick to your side for the entirety of the trip home to ensure you don’t do anything funny which was pretty damn intimidating; after seeing what happened at the frat party, you knew better than to fuck with the older Carpenter. Tara, Mindy, and Chad all snickered at the obvious nervousness that was evident on your face despite your protests of not feeling nervous at all.

At the apartment, Chad and Mindy set the table for dinner while you and Tara prepare the food. The two of you steal quick glances at each other, smiling as you silently check each other out.

“So where’d you learn to cook?” Tara finishes chopping carrots then drops them in the pot and you start stirring, adding a variety of seasoning at the same time to enhance its flavour.

“Self-taught. Ever since I came to the city, I had to learn how to live on my own which meant learning how to cook.”

“Where’d you move from? Do you keep in touch with your parents?”

You halt your movements at the mention of your parents and Tara takes immediate notice of this.

“Sorry, I must have hit a nerve. You don’t need to answer, I get-”

“No, you’re good,” you place the ladle down to the side and face the younger Carpenter to give her your full attention.

“Most of my life I stayed in Cali. I decided to leave for college because I wanted to see what else the world had to offer.”

“And you thought New York was the best place to go?” Tara raises her eyebrow.

You chuckled at Tara’s remark, “well it did lead me to you so yeah, I think it was,” you didn’t mean to come off as flirtatious but it’s the truth. Running away and coming to New York allowed you to meet Tara, who is now all smiles and tries to fight the pink tint that was making its way onto her cheeks, causing you to smile too.

“And your parents?” Her smile fades slightly, knowing she may be treading in dangerous waters. You take a deep breath in before answering her.

“My parents are good people. I have nothing against them.”

“Then why do you get tense when I bring it up?”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked since I came here. I’m sure they didn’t want me to move out but I pushed for it anyway, so I’ve been hesitant to reach out; only because I don’t know if they’d want to talk to me after leaving them,” Tara takes notice in the way your breath hitches slightly, trying to hold back the tears from falling. You really missed your parents; you didn’t want to run away but you couldn’t handle the life you had at home.

Tara walks towards you and grabs your hand that was gripping the counter. You relax at her touch, and she leans her head into your chest.

“I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss them, Y/N. They’re your family and family is always going to be there when you need them to be, whether you like it or not,” Tara then takes a quick look at Sam who was placing extra pillows and blankets down for everyone and a small smile makes its way onto her face. “But just know that you don’t need to contact them right away. Do it when you feel ready.”

“I honestly don’t see that happening anytime soon, but I’m definitely thinking on it.”

She takes her head off your chest and looks at you, eyes darting between the both of yours and you find yourself getting lost in her dark brown orbs once again. But to your surprise, the shorter girl takes a step back, her gaze moving from your eyes to the ground and the hem of her shirt suddenly becomes more interesting.

“I think you should get out of the city, though. Like, the three of you I mean, I wouldn’t blame any of you if you wanted to go. We put you guys in a lot of danger and-”

“That’s very thoughtful of you Tara, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” she glances up from her shirt to meet your eyes again but the sudden sound of fake gagging catches the both of you off guard.

“Will you two just make out already?” Mindy complains while setting the cutlery on the table.

“Mindy that is so inappropriate, come on dude!” your face heats up at the embarrassment while Tara and Chad just laugh at the current scene in front of them. But the atmosphere immediately changes when Anika points out the news being reported - Sam was being accused for the killings that took place last year in Woodsboro and they claim she placed the blame on Richie and Amber. When Sam mutes the TV and marches to the dining table, you plant yourself beside Anika while Tara, Mindy, and Chad try to comfort the eldest, deciding that it wasn’t your business to meddle in right now.

“So you and Tara, huh?” Anika asks out of the blue, nudging your arm with her elbow.

“Nah, I think it’s way too early to be saying there’s anything between us.”

“But you like her, don’t you? I mean come on, you look at her the way Mindy and I look at each other.” You simply smile and shake your head. You knew what the truth was anyway and judging by the smile on your face, Anika probably knew the truth now too.

Then multiple phones start going off at once, including yours. Hesitant, you pull out the device from your sweater pocket, and once it’s unlocked, you’re greeted with a picture of Quinn being attacked by Ghostface in her room. First you whip your head towards her door, then turn to the four still sitting at the table before all of you get up and crowd in front of Quinn’s room, grabbing Tara by the arm and pulling her close to you to stop her from doing anything irrational.

The screaming and the banging suddenly stop. The silence is eerie. The six of you stand outside Quinn’s room waiting for any sound or sign of life.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait. Until Mindy finally breaks the silence.

“Run!”

The door opens and Ghostface shoves a butchered Quinn towards all of you. The corpse falls on top of Anika and she lets out a blood curdling scream, leaving you frozen in your spot. Chad grabs Tara and they sprint towards the exit, the younger Carpenter yelling for you to follow but the rest of you couldn’t. Ghostface was right in front of you, and if any of you tried running, he could tackle you immediately.

You’re still frozen. You want to move but your feet are stuck to the ground, and you feel helpless. But you finally gain control of your body when he comes forward and slashes Mindy in the arm. As Sam frantically looks for a knife and you apply pressure to Mindy’s arm, Anika tries to hold onto his legs to stop him from hurting Mindy any more, but it backfires when he wraps his hand around Anika’s neck. She visibly turns red and struggles to get him off of her, but it was no use; he's much stronger than she is. Ghostface effortlessly picks Anika up, hand still tight around her neck, and slams her right against the brick wall where he plunges and twists the knife right into her abdomen causing another scream to escape from her throat. He mercilessly sinks the knife even deeper into the girl, making her scream even louder than she already was.

You glance towards the kitchen to find Sam still trying to find any kind of weapon. Realizing she was taking too long, you release Mindy’s arm and rush towards Ghostface, grasping his shoulder and turning him to face you before swinging a right hook right to his face. With no other option, Sam grabs the knife block and knocks Ghostface in the head making him fall to the ground. You help Anika up while Sam assists Mindy, and the four of you run into Quinn’s bedroom. Meanwhile, Tara realizes none of you were behind her and yells at Chad to go back upstairs, but to her demise, the door was locked and she left her keys inside. She begins to panic, worried about what could happen to her sister, her friends, but most importantly, you. Chad wraps his arm around the girl and starts leading her down the stairs.

You plop Anika down beside Mindy and watch as Sam holds the door closed. The banging stops after a while, but Sam notices the bathroom door was open.

“Y/N, the bathroom door, hurry!” Sam whispers, and you rush to go close it.

“Oh fuck! That guy’s dead,” you cry out loud, frightened by the sight of a carved up man in a literal blood bath. Distracted, you nearly miss Ghostface at the door and you frantically try to shove him out of the bathroom, slamming the door onto him multiple times. He manages to plant his knife into your left shoulder, luckily missing your carotid artery due to the awkward angle. You scream out in pain but still push with all your might to get him out the door. Sam comes to your side to help you push, and when he’s finally outside, you lock the door and help Sam push the dresser to block it. Ghostface doesn’t stop banging and kicking the door so you lean against the dresser to add extra weight. In the corner of her eye, Sam catches sight of Danny in the neighbouring building and he brings out a ladder for the four of you to climb across. With no other choice, Sam reluctantly agrees with his plan.

“You guys go first, Y/N!”

“What? No! Somebody needs to hold the door, let Anika and Mindy go first, then I’ll be right behind you Sam. Go!”

Just as you instructed, you watch as the three of them slowly but safely make their way across the ladder. Once they were all in the safety of Danny’s apartment, they all cry out for you and you look at the door one last time before rushing to the window.

“Come on, Y/N! Slow and steady, you can do this!”

You were never really afraid of heights, but the thought of having to cross a very unstable ladder that was high up in the air just to escape a killer heightened your anxiety by tenfolds. You breathe in deeply before taking your first step, carefully shifting your body weight as needed to avoid making the ladder more than it needed to. The encouraging words that were once spilling from the audience standing at Danny’s window start to become less frequent and eventually stop all together, causing you to stop in your tracks. You look up at them for the first time and find all of them looking like deer caught in headlights.

“What?”

“Y/N, you have to move right now!” Mindy yells almost in desperation.

You turn your head and you find the familiar black and white mask managed to make it into Quinn’s bedroom. You’ve only made it just halfway across and with Ghostface now trying to throw you off the ladder, you tried to pick up your pace.

“Come on Y/N, you gotta move!” Sam yells as Mindy and Anika watch nervously, trying their best to help Danny weigh the ladder down and keep it stable. Despite their efforts, it becomes harder to keep yourself steady. Ghostface repeatedly tosses the ladder up and down and he eventually gets it to turn over on its side so it’s no longer parallel to the ground. Everyone who was watching scream and cry in horror, fearing you'd fall right off but you maintain a solid grip. You looked down and watched how your legs dangled in the air. Your hands were getting sweatier with each moment that passed by and Ghostface clearly wasn’t going to stop until he saw your body smothered on the ground beneath you.

“Y/N you can do this, we got you! Don’t look down!”

Their voices made you look up and you can see the desperation they had to keep you alive. Gathering all the energy you had left, you swing your body to give yourself momentum and cross the remainder of the ladder Tarzan style. You’re finally able to reach for Sam’s hand but you lose your grip on it when Ghostface gives the ladder one last toss, leaving you to hang on the ladder with one hand. The blood and sweat that was on your hand was making you slip more and more until you could no longer hold yourself up. As your hand releases the ladder, Sam, Mindy, and Anika scream at the sight of your body falling in the air. You curl yourself up in attempts to protect your head and break the fall using your left shoulder by making direct contact with the dumpster that was beneath you before rolling off of it and onto the ground. Your entire left shoulder, along with some of your ribs and God knows what other bones in your body, were definitely shattered from the impact and you also felt extremely light headed, but the important thing is you weren’t dead. You deliver that message to Ghostface when you catch him looking out the window, flipping him off with a smirk on your face as the three girls sob and breathe a sigh of relief.

You wake up on a stretcher just outside an ambulance to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika sitting in the back of the vehicle itself with its doors opened. You carefully try to move but pain shoots through your entire body like lightning. The younger Carpenter shoots her head in your direction when she sees you move and she’s quick to grab ahold of your hand.

“Y/N, you’re awake!”

“Hey there daredevil, how you holding up?” Mindy asks.

“I can’t lie, I'm pretty fucking high right now,” you smile and the three of them giggle.

“What you did back there was seriously insane. Like you wouldn’t believe her upper body strength, Tara! She deadass looked like Tarzan or something,” Anika explains excitedly, but it quickly dies down when Mindy starts to talk again.

“Okay but even though it was sort of impressive to watch, you’re still on my suspect list. That could’ve just been a little act to throw us off our tracks. We still don’t know a whole ton about you, other than the fact that you’re part monkey.”

“Hey, I’m no monkey, I'm a human being!” the amount of drugs in your system cause you to slightly slur your words. Mindy smirks and decides to use your woozy state against you all while Anika shoots her girlfriend a knowing smile.

“Hey Y/N, what do you think of Tara?”

“Mindy!” the girl in question protests.

“Tara? Oh golly, she’s an absolute gem!”

“Yeah? Think she’s pretty?”

“Pretty damn gorgeous if ya ask me!” Tara starts to blush at your honesty.

“Okay Mindy that’s enough, let Y/N re-”

“Chad..” Ethan emerges from the crowd and cautiously makes his way towards all of you, worried about the state of his friends at the moment. Chad, however, was unhappy to see his roommate and he slams Ethan against a car to question his whereabouts the previous night. Even after letting him go, Mindy doesn’t allow Ethan to step foot near you.

“Step the fuck back. You’re at the top of my list.”

“I had econ!”

“Ohhhh, econ!! What's econ?” you ask, clearly still in a drugged state.

-

You spend the day in the hospital trying to recover, immense pain still spreading through your body. But when Tara tells you about Gale getting attacked and their plan to try and catch Ghostface, you beg her to let you help out.

“Are you sure you want to be discharged now? You still have a long way to go before you’re anywhere near being fully healed,” the charge nurse asks as she hands you a few papers to sign.

“I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t important. There are lives on the line and I need to help out. Thanks for everything though.”

“Just be sure to take your meds and show up to those follow up appointments, young lady.”

You smile at the lady before making your way down to the hospital lobby where you meet Tara and everyone else.

“You look like absolute shit,” Chad teases.

“Yeah, well you try falling off a ladder then pretty boy” you retort, and he playfully lifts his arms up in surrender.

“Alright captain, where we headed?” you turn to Tara.

“I’ll explain everything along the way.”

“Wait, where’s Anika?”

“I told her it was best if she stayed out of it. She’s safe with her parents,” you nod your head in approval seeing as you definitely didn’t want to see more people getting hurt.

The seven of you travel through the streets of New York City until you’re met with the busy atmosphere of the subway stations. To what you were able to get from Tara’s explanation, there was a massive theatre that held Ghostface memorabilia from over the years, and you were going to try and lure him there so you could all attack him. Although some were protesting against the plan, you thought it was better than just standing around and waiting for his next attack.

The subways were particularly packed with commuters trying to make their way to the different Halloween parties being hosted all over the city. Almost everyone around you was wearing a costume so technically, you were the ones who stood out in the crowd. It was easy to get lost with the amount of people around, so you held onto Tara’s hand as tight as you could but you didn’t miss the glare burning into the back of your head from her sister.

Despite your efforts to stay with them, the number of people made it extremely difficult to keep up. Mindy trails behind you and calls out for Chad to wait up while you call out for Tara, but Danny and other civilians push their way onto the train to force you, Mindy, and Ethan to stay back on the platform and wait for the next one. You watch the train pass by before taking a look at Mindy who lets out a sigh of frustration. The two of you are startled by a hand that touches your shoulder which just turned out to be Ethan.

“Get your Ghostface ass away from us, Ghostface.”

“Wait, so you trust her but not me?”

“I saw Y/N fall off a ladder last night so I know where she was. I can't say the same for you, though.”

“I keep telling you guys I had econ!”

“Just keep your distance, Ghostface,” Mindy pulls you away from Ethan and you two walk further down the platform as you wait for the next train.

“Hey, did you notice his eye?” you ask Mindy while she tried to make him look away from the two of you.

“No, why? Did you see something?” she turns to you.

“It looked like it was starting to bruise. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure I landed a right hook onto Ghostface last night. You think it’s a coincidence?”

“That’d be one hell of a coincidence. He definitely has to be Ghostface, I’m calling it right now. But you’re still not completely off the hook, got it buddy?” you give Mindy a tight lip smile and nod almost immediately, causing her to giggle at your nervous reaction.

-

The train ride was anything but pleasant. With the success of the Stab films, there were a number of Ghostface costumes on the train, causing you and Mindy to be on edge the entire time. Unfortunately, you and Mindy couldn’t stick close together due to the number of people separating you two, but you made sure to keep a close eye on her and to your surroundings.

But thanks to the flickering lights, it was hard to pay attention to your environment when you couldn’t see anything. You frantically turn your head in every direction to ensure you had every space covered and checking on Mindy if she was okay. When you turn your head to the left, you find a Ghostface mask who happened to be staring right at you. You want to think it’s just another random in a costume but the way he keeps his gaze fixed on you gives you the feeling it’s not just a random person.

Anxious, you try and make your way closer to Mindy so you could stay together but as soon as you started to move, he did too. There were a bunch of people in your way, leaving you no choice but to push through them and not even bothering to say sorry. At one point, the lights shut off and it takes a while for them to come back on. You continue your trek to Mindy but it’s no use because people were being bitches stubborn and wouldn’t move out of the way. You look back to see if Ghostface caught up to you, but you can’t make out anything in the dark. The lights finally come back on and Ghostface is nowhere to be seen, confirming your suspicions that it was most likely a stranger.

But when you turn back around to push your way through to Mindy, Ghostface is right in front of you. You attempt to scream but his hand is faster and immediately covers your mouth before pushing his knife right into your stomach. A muffled scream can’t be heard with how loud the train was and the people around you were, so you were left there to struggle and Mindy didn’t even know. He shoves the knife deeper into you and the two of you slowly fall to the ground, yet no one around you seemed to notice what was going on. Ghostface finally pulls the knife out and starts walking towards Mindy but you can’t get up to stop him. The announcer on the train comes on to indicate that the train will be arriving at the platform soon which catches him off guard, and you think he won’t have enough time to attack Mindy, but you were wrong. Ghostface quickly stabs Mindy approximately in the same area as he did with you before he makes a swift exit off the train. The two of you are clutching your stomachs, putting pressure to try and minimize some of the bleeding. Ethan notices both of you and immediately calls for help while he tries to drag both of you out of the train at the same time. He drops you by a nearby post where security guards gather and call for medical services.

“Are you guys okay?!”

“Yeah, we’re so good” Mindy’s sarcasm doesn’t fail to make an appearance despite being in pain.

“Goddammit. I got it wrong again! What the fuck?” she grunts in pain. You, on the other hand, start struggling to keep yourself awake. Your eyelids feel heavy and it’s becoming harder to breathe, the rest of your body feeling limp until your head crashes onto Mindy’s shoulder.

“Y/N, stay with me, come on!”

“I’m just gonna take a nap Min, don’t worry, I’ll be up in no time.” Mindy can feel her heart break hearing the nickname come from you for the first time. Her voice is the last thing you hear before finally letting your eyelids close themselves.

“Fuck this franchise.”

a/n: hello again, reader >:) i'm giving y/n some of chad's armor plot bc let's bffr, anyone would die falling off a ladder like that lmfaooo anyway, thank you guys for all your patience! the next part will be the last one and you will finally get to know who y/n is :) hope u enjoyed!

[missingexaltation]

Fic idea (because I can't get enough of rockstar!Eddie, apparently)

Steve and Eddie try dating, but it quickly goes nowhere as Steve is just too busy. If he's not driving the kids around, he's doing chores for Mrs Henderson, or hanging out with Robin, or at work. And the free time he DOES have never correlates to when Eddie's free. They keep missing each other and Steve finally (gently) breaks up with Eddie because they just never see each other.

A few weeks pass and Steve misses him so much it hurts. Even the hour or so at a time that they used to get would be enough. And it's not forever, maybe soon they could move in together, get their own place and see each other all the time. And the girls are off to college soon, so that's MORE time together. He was an idiot to break up.

He goes to the new Munson house to try and get Eddie back only to find out that he's gone. Wayne tells him that he's going to Cali with Jonathan and Argyle, and that's that.

Steve's devastated.

The next time Nancy goes to see Jonathan he and Robin tag along, but Eddie's not there. Jonathan hasn't seen him in a few days, he's busy with his new band, and they're actually really good. Steve spends the rest of the time in Cali hoping Eddie will show up...but he doesn't. Steve goes home to Hawkins feeling worse than ever.

A few weeks later, Nancy excitedly tells him that Jonathan said that Eddie's band has been signed up, or signed on, or something, and that's a big fucking deal. They're recording an album and they might hear him on the radio, and Eddie might be famous.

It IS a big deal, Steve DOES hear him on the radio, and the band DOES get famous.

It happens too quickly for Steve to deal with, and shuts himself down a little. He still misses Eddie so much, and now there's no chance he'll ever see him again. He's just a dumbass with no future, and Eddie's out there living his best life as making his dreams come true. Robin and Nancy leave for college at the same time this all happens, and Steve's left hating himself for being stuck behind.

He hears the band's debut single all the time, but he tries not to focus on it. Their singer is really good, she's the main focus, but all Steve can hear is Eddie in the backing vocals and guitar and its too much.

Jonathan invites them all back to Cali for one of the band's shows, (they're only the support act but still, it's the support for a really famous rock band), and Steve agrees to go. He stands in the crowd, surrounded by people in black, leather and chic, and hates himself a tiny bit more. This is Eddie's world and he doesn't fit in it, doesn't belong in it.

The show is spectacular, leagues above what corroded coffin used to do, and Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie once. After the band leaves the stage, Jonathan drags them all backstage, though Steve tries to leave, and for the first time in months Steve comes face to face with his ex.

Eddie's bouncing around, on some adrenaline high, laughing his head off until he sees Steve. His smile drops and he looks like the devastated boy that Steve had left broken hearted all those months ago. And if Steve didn't hate himself before, he does now. That's the effect he has on the guy he loves, just the sight of him upsets Eddie. So instead of saying anything...he chickens out and runs.

He doesn't expect Eddie to follow him, but he does, dragging them both into an empty room. Steve can't even get a word out before he just flings himself into Eddie's arms and sobs. He says a lot of things as he cries, trying to explain himself, but none of it makes any sense to his own ears. Eddie clings to him in return, and it's not until Steve's composed himself that he realises that Eddie's crying too.

They just cling to each other until someone comes to tell Eddie that they're leaving for the hotel, and Eddie insists that Steve comes too. They spend the night together, figuring themselves out, and it all comes to a head when Eddie asks if Steve had heard their single. Steve says he has and that he...likes it? Eddie laughs at him softly and cuddles him closer.

It's about Steve, he explains, because of course it is. It's the song that Eddie had written both before and after they'd broken up. It's a song about being completely in love...but then dealing with being broken hearted. And apparently it struck a chord with both the talent scout that had 'discovered' them, and the rest of the world that related to it enough to make it popular.

They agree to try again.

Eddie's band don't warm to him for some time, and neither does Wayne, but Steve's right by Eddie's side as the band goes from a small-time support band to full rockstars in their own right over the next few years. He's not making the same mistake twice, and neither is Eddie. They both let go too easily the first time, and they won't let go again.

Steve and Eddie get 'unlawfully married' on their fifth anniversary in '91, and finally gains Wayne's acceptance. The band have also gotten used to him by this point, and jokingly refer to him as the 'non musical' member of the band.

An injury to both the band's vocalist and drummer brings the band to a natural end in '06. The band's popularity carries on though a very vocal cult fanbase due to a) their singer and rhythm guitarist being two of the few venerated women in their genre and b) Eddie being very open about his sexuality and 'unlawful husband'.

Eddie settles down with Steve in a quiet part of the country, and finds himself at a bit of a loss. It's not until he rediscovers D&D that he finds purpose again, and ends up writing a few campaigns that get published. His fame is good for something after all.

Steve suggests he test them out on the old Hellfire club (because of course Steve's still in contact with most of them), and by 2010 the gang's permanently back together. They sometimes play D&D in person, but most of it's through Skype.

One of the club suggests (after a particularly hilarious session) that they record it for a podcast, and although it starts slow, because of Eddie's fame it soon gets pretty popular. Every member of the club gets their own little fanbase and merch (even Steve, as the long suffering 'normal hubby').

Eddie's happy, Steve's happy, and they get legally married in 2016, on their 30th anniversary.

[ladykailitha]

Across a Crowded Room Part 3

Oops! This has five chapters not four. So I might double up next week depending on how far in the other stories I get.

This is a long boy. Longer than I usually make parts, but there was no place to break it without slowly down the plot.

Also heads up, if you're familiar with me at all, you know that I tend to write a nuanced, but mostly unfavorable Nancy. I like the character, (I know it doesn't seem like it) but she's isn't a good person. So when I write her, she isn't a good person especially if I'm writing post canon (ish, Eddie lives) but she is brave, she is strong, and she is tenacious.

So you are a fan of Nancy and don't like the way I write her in this story, please hit the back button, not the comment section. Please?

Eddie and Robin don't come out great in this chapter, either, but at least they're trying.

And sexy times ahead.

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie shook his head as he watched Steve go. His little plan about moving out to Cali to be with Eddie made him so happy. That Steve wanted to be with him even if that meant being further away from Robin. And wasn’t that the be all, end all.

Steve was out in no time at all, tight jeans and grey Henley. Eddie wanted nothing more to rip them off of him and toss him into bed to ravish him.

Steve caught his heated glance and winked at him.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, rockstar,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “you’re here all week.”

The fire in Eddie’s gut didn’t quench, it ignited. “Same goes for the apartment hunt, honey.” He pulled Steve in close, wrapping one arm around his waist. “I could please you in that bed of yours or even on the sofa if you’re eager enough.”

Steve felt a shiver down his spine and his eyelids drooped. “Yeah, and just how would you please me, Eds?” He placed both arms around his neck.

“I’d start with these two little moles,” Eddie purred, licking the spot he had just described.

Steve let out a low moan. “And then?”

“Then I would get my hands on that glorious ass,” Eddie continued. He went back to licking and kissing that part on Steve’s neck, but his hands cupped his ass and brought Steve flush against him.

“Eddie...” Steve whined. He was so hard.

“You like that?” Eddie cooed. “Then after bringing you close, I would let my hands roam. In your hair, under your shirt; your back, your stomach.”

Steve legs started to shake as Eddie did just that.

“Hmm...” he purred into Steve’s ear, “looks like we’re gonna need to lie you down, sweetness. What’s it going to be, the bedroom or the sofa?”

Steve’s hands slid down Eddie’s arms, rubbing them up and down as he thought about it. “Bedroom. Definitely the bedroom.”

Eddie grinned and spun Steve around. “Lead the way, babe.”

Steve scrambled to the bedroom, Eddie hot on his heels. Eddie slammed the door behind them as Steve sat on the edge of the bed. Eddie prowled his way to his boy, who smirked up at him.

Eddie licked his lips. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I can’t want to take you apart.”

“Come get me.”

Eddie proceeded to just that. Clothes were quickly dispatched and Steve lay on the bed looking up at Eddie with wide-eye wonder.

Eddie crawled over top of him and kissed him deeply. Hands roamed again, mapping out every freckle, every mole, every scar, every line. He kissed the spots he found he couldn’t get enough of.

Steve moaned and whined in pleasure as Eddie made his way down his body.

“You got condoms, big boy?” Eddie asked, face directly above Steve’s cock.

Steve pulled out a box and tossed it at him.

“Keep these under your pillow, Stevie?” Eddie admonished playfully. “Such a dirty boy.”

Steve’s cock twitched in response and Eddie grinned. He quickly sheathed both of their cocks and then went to town, licking and sucking Steve off.

Steve’s hands buried themselves into Eddie’s hair, trying not buck into those perfect lips.

Eddie reached underneath Steve’s balls and pressed a finger in. Steve nearly jackknifed off the bed.

“Drawer!” he panted. “Lube in drawer.” His hand flailed at his nightstand and Eddie grinned.

“I should have asked if you had any, baby,” Eddie said. “Let’s make this really easy for you.”

He grabbed the lube and looked at the bottle. “Strawberry passion fruit?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I like the flavor,” Steve grunted.

Eddie shrugged and coated his fingers with the stuff. He lowered himself back onto Steve’s cock and then slow pressed one finger to Steve’s entrance.

Steve moaned as Eddie pressed past the rim and into his ass. It was all he could do to not just come down Eddie’s throat in a heartbeat. Not that he could do that with the condom in the way. But that’s what it felt like. The second finger joined the first and Steve was a goner. His back arched as he emptied his load straight into Eddie’s hot mouth.

Eddie pulled off with a slick pop and stared down at the very debauched Steve Harrington. He removed Steve’s condom and tossed it away after tying it off.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he murmured. “That was the hottest thing ever.”

Steve blushed and the blush went all the way to his nipples to Eddie’s enjoyment and Steve’s chagrin.

“Just you wait, Stevie,” Eddie purred, placing a kiss on Steve’s overheated stomach. “There’s more good coming for you.”

“Eds...”

Eddie kissed his inner thigh and began working Steve open again. Once he was satisfied that Steve would be able to take him without discomfort, he pulled his fingers out.

“Please...” Steve begged.

Eddie rubbed his hands soothingly on Steve’s thighs as he lined himself up to his ass. “I’ve got you, honey. I promise to make you feel good.”

“I trust you.”

And if that wasn’t the kicker, Eddie didn’t know what was.

He went in slow until his hips were flush against Steve’s beautiful ass and then he immediately picked up the pace.

Steve moans became cries and Eddie could tell that it felt good from the way gripped the sheets.

“I’m not going to last long, you feel to good.”

“I wanna see,” Steve murmured breathlessly. “I wanna see you come, Eds.”

One, two...

And then he stilled, filling the condom with his load. Steve was nearly sobbing from the intense pleasure.

Eddie pulled out and disposed of his condom. Steve collapsed on the mattress, sated at last.

Eddie laid down next to him and they cuddled together as they came down from the high of really good sex.

“Holy shit,” Steve said once his brain came back online. “What was that?”

Eddie chuckled, nuzzling Steve’s neck. “I call it a suck and fuck.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Because of course you do.”

“It’s good to see you so happy, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You know, when I first arrived at the bar and saw you with your friends, I thought ‘he’s happier without me’, but now that I see you now, and how much happier you are now. There’s no contest. I make you happy. I make you happy. I make you happy. And there is nothing better in the world than that.”

Steve kissed him. “Is that why Robin was pissed when you said the plan was for you to move to Chicago, because you thought I didn’t need you?”

Eddie nodded. “She made me see reason.”

“I’m glad.”

They cuddled for a bit longer before they hopped into the shower to get cleaned up and to spend more time in each other’s arms before facing the world yet again.

****

Steve was starting to get a migraine. Well, okay not really. But that’s what apartment hunting was starting to feel like.

Their first day had been a complete bust. Too high of a down payment. Shitty landlords. Beautiful pictures, horrible reality. Bad neighborhoods.

So they decided to go to dinner with Robin to blow off some steam after such a crappy afternoon.

“I’m just grateful to be sleeping on Nancy’s couch until I can find a place,” Robin said in sympathy.

“How is Nancy and Jonathan?” Eddie asked.

Steve took a drink to hide his grimace. It bothered him that his two best friends were still in contact with his ex and the guy she cheated on him with, but he couldn’t tell them why it bothered him without completely blowing up Robin’s living arrangement. So he kept his mouth shut.

“They’re taking a break,” Robin said with a wince of her own. “She’s pissed at his lack of ambition and he’s pissed she cost him a high paying photography gig by shooting off her mouth to the wrong person at the wrong time.”

Steve ducked his head because the was no glass big enough in the world that he could lift to hide his gleeful expression. He fiddled with his napkin for something to do with his hands.

“That’s rough,” Eddie was saying. “I was rooting for them, you know?”

Robin nodded. “They were cute together.”

Just then Steve was spared the mortification of shouting out that she cheated on him by the waiter coming up to take their drink and appetizer order.

“I’ll drive,” Robin said. “You order whatever you like.”

Steve ordered a strawberry daiquiri and Eddie snorted into his water glass. Robin rolled her eyes.

“Of course you did,” she huffed. “I’m just surprised you two made it out of the apartment at all, if I’m honest.”

“Just a whiskey for me,” Eddie told the waiter to get out of this suddenly very awkward conversation.

“I’ll take a cherry Coke, please.”

Once the waiter had gone, Steve went back to playing with his napkin.

Their drinks arrived and then their appetizer. They ordered their main as they happily munched on their nachos.

About half way through dinner Robin rolled. “Come on, Steve. It’s not like you can avoid talking about her forever. You two broke up before you even met Eddie and me.”

Steve just shrugged, twisting his napkin further. He was sure it was going to be in pieces before this meal was over.

Eddie looked between them in confusion. “Who, what now?”

“Nancy,” Robin said. “He always gets super quiet and broody when I bring her up.”

Eddie frowned. “Hey, man–”

“Don’t call me ‘man’, we fucked!” Steve spat. He got up quickly from the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

Once he was out onto the pavement he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. A minute later, Eddie was lighting one up next to him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie muttered. “Going back to calling you ‘man’ after all the sweet nicknames I had been calling you all day was wrong.”

Steve’s hand shook as he let out an exhale of smoke. “I guess I just don’t get why you two are friends with her.”

Eddie sighed. This is the one sticking point he had with Steve. Nancy Wheeler. “I know she was your ex, but you two seemed to put it past at the gang get togethers, so I thought you were okay. But obviously not and I don’t why.”

Steve looked up at him with tears glittering on his eyelashes. “Isn’t it enough for me to say that she hurt me as the reason?”

Eddie sighed and pulled Steve in close. Steve went, a little reluctantly, but he went. He finished his cigarette, tucked under his arm.

Robin came out just as they were finishing their cigarettes. She handed Eddie his credit card and sack that held the remains of their dinner in to go containers.

“Let’s go home.”

She led the way to the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.

Eddie paused when Steve got in the back. He shared a panicked look with Robin, before he got in on the side behind her. He slid all the way to the middle to wrap his arms around Steve.

Robin looked at them in the rearview mirror and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she said softly. “I know bringing her up upsets you and I do it anyway. First relationships are complicated and yours more then most.”

“Baby?” Eddie asked. “Why did you invite Jonathan and Nancy if being around them upset you this much?”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Joyce told me I was being rude inviting Will and Mike, but not their older siblings and if I continued to snub them, she would stop Will from coming. And if Will didn’t come...”

“Mike wouldn’t come,” Eddie finished. “And if Mike didn’t come, neither would El, starting this chain reaction where it would be maybe the Sinclairs if they didn’t side with the others. Shit, baby, I had no idea.”

Steve shrugged.

“Uh uh,” Eddie said fiercely. “This is something that has been hurting you for years and we just ignored it. You have a right to be upset.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Robin said. “We made you feel like you couldn’t come to us with what you were feeling and I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want to say anything because you didn’t have a lot of friends that were girls at the time and I felt like if I brought it up it would really splinter the group.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head.

The car lapsed into silence the rest of the way home. Robin pulled into their covered parking and turned off the ignition.

“What do you want me to do, dingus?” she asked softly. “If you don’t want me to bunk with her I won’t. You are more important to me than she is.”

“But what will you do until you find a place?” Steve asked in dismay.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said. “I can talk to my boss and see about getting temporary housing or if she knows a good cheap motel.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and decided to tell them the truth that had been weighing on him all these years.

“She told me she never loved me,” he whispered, “and that everything we had was bullshit.”

Robin whipped around in the front seat to stare at him in shock.

“She said what?!”

Eddie was twisting in his seat too. “Stevie...”

“I thought it was just a fight,” he continued. “But apparently she thought she was clear that we were through and slept with Jonathan like literally the next day.”

The silence in the car was deafening and Steve was starting to panic. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He undid his seatbelt and struggled to get out of the car, but Eddie was still wrapped around him.

“No, baby,” Eddie murmured. “You really should have. You’ve been holding onto this pain, with the people you care about the most telling you to get over it.”

“This is so messed up,” Robin whispered in anguish. “Do you know what she says happened between you?”

Steve stopped struggling and shook his head.

“That you were just weren’t right for each other and went your separate ways,” Eddie said quietly.

Steve snorted. “That’s the most watered down, polite version of that she could have possibly said.”

“It also removes her from all responsibility from her actions,” Robin hissed. “I’m so angry right now!” She hit the steering wheel. “Fuck! I told Kendra I would be sleeping over there tonight, but all I want to do is call Nancy and bitch her out. Jesus fuck!”

Steve got out of the car and hurried to the driver’s side. He opened the door and pulled her out into a hug. “I appreciate you. I love you for being angry on my behalf. But go. Talk to Kendra, rant about it. But don’t call or text Nancy until tomorrow, okay? Not even drunk. Promise me?”

Robin sank into his arms and sighed. “I promise. But the fact that she kept lying about it and telling me that you were just bitter that she found someone else so soon just makes me so angry.”

Eddie got out and closed the door behind him. He walked around to the side of the car that they were standing on and leaned against the hood of the car with his arms and legs crossed.

“I feel like such a bad friend that we took what she said at face value,” he muttered darkly.

“Guys, no!” Steve protested. “I should have told you but I was so ashamed by the whole thing. We were together for two years and I didn’t know she didn’t love me? Like were there signs I missed, thinking everything was perfect? I just felt so stupid.”

“Do you need me to stay?” Robin asked. “Because I will. I’ll call Kendra right now and sleep over tomorrow.”

Steve shook his head. “I think I just need a tub of cookie dough ice cream, The Lizzy Bennett Diaries, and a bottle of wine tonight.”

She kissed his cheek fiercely. “I love you, dingus. Never forget that. Even when I’m in New York. Okay?”

He nodded and she squeezed him tightly before letting him go. She handed him back his keys and made her way up to their apartment.

“Do you want me to stay or go, babe?” Eddie asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

“You have that expensive hotel you’re paying for, Eds,” Steve said with a chuckle. “You should use it.”

Eddie deflated and nodded, looking away.

Steve walked up to him and kissed him deeply. “I forgive you both. I’m not mad, I’m just upset, and we are not through. You’ve got me for life, but I just need a night to myself, okay?”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay, Stevie. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry tonight went down the way it did. That comment about rooting for Nancy and Jonathan was out of line even without the stuff you told us tonight. You deserve better than that.” He took Steve face in his hands. “And this is my promise: I will always strive to be your port in the storm, that now matter what comes your way, you can always depend on me to take your side.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. They said goodbye and Eddie was driving off when Robin came down the stairs with her overnight bag.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” she said tenderly.

Steve nodded. “Like I told Eddie, I forgive you guys, I just need time to sort out my feelings about everything. It’s been a crazy twenty four hours and I need to figure out what I want.”

Robin kissed his cheek and then said goodbye.

Steve watched her drive off with a sense of relief. Not because they were gone, but because the truth was out and he felt lighter for it.

****

Part 4 Part 5

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[bedsyandco]

3 times Will made a move + 1 time she finally said yes

note: it's finally here! sorry you waited so long! dates are approx. It's still not where I want it but I've been sitting with it for a more than a month and this is what we have...okay?😭

☆1 (30 aug)

Princess walks into her favorite cafe and sighs when she sees the long line of people. She makes her way to the back of the line and curses quietly when she drops her keys, but before she can bend down to get them, someone else already has.

"Thanks," she says, her voice getting caught in her throat as she sees him. Meets those green eyes. The same green eyes she's been thinking about all summer.

She saw him briefly in class earlier but didn't have a chance to really get a good look at him.

"And so we meet again." Will says smiling at her.

"We do."

"I actually saw you in class earlier, but I didn't know if it would be weird to say anything," Will says, scratching the back of his neck and Princess' attention is drawn to his arm, but she quickly glances away again.

"It wouldn't, I think it would be weirder to pretend we've never interacted at all." she says.

"We may have interacted, but I never actually introduced myself, I'm Will." he says, holding his hand out and Princess takes it.

"Emerson"

"Did you have a good summer?" Will asks

"Yeah, I went to Italy. I ate way too much pasta, but I had a lot of fun. Have you ever been?"

"No. I've been to Spain when I was younger, but never Italy."

"How are you liking, Boston?" Princess asks

"I love Boston, I actually grew up not too far from here, so I'm familiar with the area, and I have a lot of family here, so I'm really excited to be close to home. What about you? It's a big difference from California."

"Oh, I didn't know you were from here, that's nice. It is a big difference from Cali. My family actually took a lot of trips to Boston over the years, and I've always loved this city. Besides, Boston has a lot of really good schools, so..." Princess trails off, and Will nods.

Princess and Will were so busy talking, it wasn't long before they were in the front of the line both placing their order.

When both their orders come at the same time, Will isn't ready to say goodbye yet.

"Wanna sit with me?" Will asks gesturing to one of the tables.

Yes, I do, but I really shouldn't. For so many reasons, Princess thinks.

"I can't, I'm actually running late to something. I'll see you around though?" she says and walks away when Will agrees.

Despite Princess wanting to keep her distance, the next day, Will moved to sit next to her in class.

☆2 (sep 16)

Will was in conversation with Gabe when something across the room caught his attention.

When he glanced in that direction again, he saw her. She was dancing with her friends, wearing a little black dress, golden waves hanging down to her waist.

Once Will spotted her he couldn't take his eyes off her. All he could think was God, she is gorgeous.

"Hey, I'll be back in a sec." he says to Gabe when he sees her friends leave, before making his way over to her.

"Hey," he greets and she smiles

"Are you stalking me Smith?" she jokes

"Maybe a little," Will replies joking back.

"Do you wanna dance with me?" Will asks and Princess bites her lip debating...

"I didn't know you could dance..." she says and Will smiles

"There's a lot you don't know about me..."

She takes his hand and leads him to the other side of the room, closer to where people were dancing and out of eye sight from her friends. She didn't need people to be gossiping about this tomorrow.

Will puts his hands on her hips and pulls her closer to him. She didn't think being this close to him was a good idea. Between his cologne and the three drinks already in her system, she was bound to do something stupid.

One of Will's hands move from her hip to her lower back, dangerously close to her ass, as he brushes her hair away from her shoulder and lays a gentle kiss right under her ear, smiling when he feels her shiver.

"You look beautiful," Will whispers, lips brushing her ear. His hand moves to cup her jaw, eyes darting between her lips and her eyes.

"This is a bad idea," she says a little breathless. Not sounding very convincing.

"Bad ideas make good memories," Will argues

"Bad ideas get people hurt,"

"I don't want to hurt you, I just really want to kiss you, can I?" he says, so close that she can feel the words on her lips.

Instead of answering she wraps her arms around Will's neck and pull his lips to hers.

Damn. Will didn't know what he liked most about her anymore. Her smell. Her smile. Or the way she kisses.

She pulls at the strands at the base of his neck and he groans.

Definitely the way she kisses.

☆ 3 (sep 29)

Princess stops in her tracks when she spots Will sitting at a table in the library. Her table.

"You really are stalking me," she says as she drops her bag on the table.

"I wouldn't have to be if you stopped avoiding me." Will says

"I haven't been avoiding you." she argues

"Yes, you have. We go from talking almost daily in class to you running the other way like I have the plague. Didn't know my kissing was that bad," he says

"It wasn't, trust me, it was -" she starts but stops when she sees Will's cocky smirk.

"No, please, continue." Will says

"Look, I have been distancing myself because what happened at that party was a major cross of boundaries that never should have happened. You were drafted to the team that my dad owns. It's not a good idea to get involved with each other." she explains

"Why not?" he asks

"Because when it ends badly, it will be weird and messy for both of us, and I really don't need another reason to disappoint my dad."

Will understood what she was saying. It's the same thing Gabe had been trying to drill into his head for weeks now. But he couldn't stay away from her, he tried.

"We haven't even started, and you're already thinking about how we're gonna end? Are you always this pessimistic?"

"I'm not pessimistic. I'm realistic. Now will you please move, I really like that seat." she begs, and Will sighs, standing up and moving to the seat across from hers as she sits.

"I brought you something," Will mumbles and pushes over a coffee and cinnamon roll. The same order she had that day in the cafè.

"Thank you." she says

"Okay. I'll dial down on the flirting, but no more avoiding me. Owner's daughter or not, we both know we enjoyed spending these last few weeks together. We can be friends, right?"

"No flirting?"

"I didn't say no flirting, I said less flirting."

"No puppy dog eyes, no hands and no kisses or no friends..." she says stubbornly

"Fine. Now hand me that and let me help you, I'm more than just a pretty face," he says, smiling and gesturing to her notes.

Oh, she knows.

☆ +1 (oct 13)

They were studying at Princess' apartment. Well, she was studying. Will was too busy admiring her to really retain any information.

This was how they spent most nights these past few weeks. Sitting in her living room, studying, watching TV, and swapping stories back and forth.

Will really did try to respect her wishes and be her friend. But it was nearly impossible. There was just no way two people who got along as well as they did and had that much chemistry could just be friends.

"Stop staring at me!" she says, throwing a pillow at his face.

"I can't help it. You're too beautiful not to stare at." Will says, smiling when she laughs.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Smith"

"I hope so. I actually wanted to ask you something."

"Remember last time you asked me something, your friend ended puking all over my back seat," she says, and he winces.

"Yeah...I promise this isn't as bad as that."

"What's up?" she asks sitting up straight.

"Our first home game is tomorrow...I was hoping you'd come," Will asks rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, I don't know, Smitty. I'm just too beautiful not to stare at. Are you sure you won't get distracted?" she teases and Will throws the pillow back at her.

"I'm sure. I really want you there, please?" Will asks sincerely and she smiles.

"I'll be there." she promises

"Wearing my jersey?" Will asks grinning at her.

"Don't push it."

"How do you feel about making a little bargain?" Will asks

"I'm listening."

"We win tomorrow, and I get to take you on a date..."

"That's too easy. You win and score me a goal tomorrow, then you get to take me on a date..."

"Wait what? Really..." Will asks dumbfounded. He didn't actually expect her to agree.

"Oh, you don't want to anymore?" she teases

"No, no, no, I do very much want to. You got a deal. We win, and I score a goal, we go on a date."

"Deal."

-

Princess sat first row behind the glass and glanced at the clock again. BC was leading 3-2 but Will was yet to score a goal.

Come on baby.

She really wants him to score that goal because she really wants to go on that date. It didn't really hit her just how much she wanted him until then. These last two months with Will have been her happiest months in a long time.

He was just so charming, so smart, so funny, so kind. The more she got to know him, the more she liked him. She was beyond proud that Will was affiliated with her family's organization. That was something her parents always reminded her of. We don't just want talented people. We want good people.

Will was a good person. He reminded her of this saying her grandma always used to say when she was little. People who feel like sunshine are rare. So when you find them, you gotta hold on tight. Will was sunshine. And she was planning on holding on real tight.

With 2 minutes left, Will finally scores, jumping against the glass where she was sitting. After the game, he couldn't shower and get to her fast enough.

Walking towards her, his heart felt ready to burst any moment. There she was, the biggest smile on her face, wearing his jersey.

He did a little jog towards her and scooped her up in a big hug, holding her up.

"You owe me a date, princess."

"I guess I do," she says, brushing his hair out of his eye.

"You can stop pretending you're not excited, I saw you crossing your fingers over there. You really wanted me to score." Will teases

"Actually, I was crossing my fingers and hoping you didn't score."

"Whatever you wanna tell yourself, baby. Either way, I get to take my girl on a date."

His girl. She really liked that.

[omgkatherine01]

The Next Time I Hurt Somebody, It Could Be You

Summary: After saving you, Sergei thought it was too dangerous for you to be around him.

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

Pairing: Kraven/Sergei x female reader

"I thought I'll find you here," you said as you stepped out from the dark forest, walking closer to Sergei. He didn't move his stare from the lake and just continued even when you walked closer. You rubbed your arm and pulled your coat tightly around your body, as you continued with a little nervous tone, "You've been quiet since we came back."

"You saw what I did, right?" he suddenly asked. "What I can do."

You thought back to the three men he killed with his bare hands and just nodded, "Yes. That's not something new."

"Y/n," he said softly and he finally turned to you, "They tried to kill you, to get to me."

"I know, but I'm alive, I'm here," you said, trying to assure him that you were okay and took a step closer. "I'm here. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he said, in a soft voice. He placed his hands on your cheeks, and caressed them softly. His expression was natural but you knew him too well, his eyes were sad, and heartbroken.

"As long as you with me, you won't be fine," he said, "You won't be safe."

"Sergei--"

"I can't let you get hurt again, do you understand?" he said softly. You released a breath as you felt your eyes burning. "You mean too much to me."

"Then let me stay, don't push me away," you said as you placed your hands on his arms.

"I can't," he said, "All that anger in me, every time I hunt, all I think about is what I will do to my father... I didn't care who I'll kill or hurt during that. Look at me." He brushed away a tear that fell down your cheek. "The next time I hurt somebody... it could be you."

"You won't," you said, "I'm on your side, you'll never hurt me, I know you won't."

"Calypso's on my side too, yet, I harmed her too," he reminded softly.

"That was an accident, you didn't knew she was there," you said, "She isn't angry with you, I'm not angry, please, just... don't." He let go of your cheeks. "Don't push me away."

You moved your hands from his arms to his face, this time you held his cheeks. You looked at him in the eyes with a soft expression, "I love you, Sergei."

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. "I love you, too," he said as you let go of his cheeks. He rested his forehead against you, and the both of you closed your eyes for a moment.

He moved his head and kissed your forehead gently as he placed his hand behind your head. You held his shoulders, afraid to let go.

His nose brushed down against yours as he closed his eyes again, inhaling your scent. "That's why, I need to let you leave." He moved his hand to your chin, and lifted your face to look at you. "I need to let you go."

You let another tear slip down your cheek and you took a step back. "If you love me, you wouldn't let me go," you said softly. He let go of you and you gave him one last tearful look before you wiped your tears away. "I'll go to Caly for the night, I'll grab a few things for now."

You quickly turned around and walked to the direction of your cabin. You quickly walked inside and wiped a few more tears from your cheeks. You sniffed silently as you walked to your bedroom and grabbed a bag to put a few clothes.

You heard the door opening and closing.

You placed a few shirts before hearing footsteps approaching the room. You felt him approaching you from behind. You closed your eyes when he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

You felt his lips kissing the side of your neck, inhaling your scent again.

You opened your eyes as he moved away from your neck and he gently turned you around to face him. You looked up at him as he brushed a piece of your hair from your face to your ear.

He stared down at you as he pulled you closer to his body. He didn't say anything, instead he lowered his lips against yours.

His tongue explored your mouth, kissing you hungrily and passionately. After a moment, he threw the bag off of the bed, and lifted you up.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and let him pull you down on the bed with him on top of you.

"God, I love you," he muttered as he moved his lips from yours and trailed them down to your neck, nibbling where your pulse was, making you moan softly.

"I love you, too," you breathed out and he moved from your body. You opened your eyes and saw him pulling his jacket and t-shirt off. You sat up and pulled your coat and shirt off of your body before he helped you with your jeans.

Not a minute after, both of you were completely bare.

And before you knew it, he entered you, rolling his hips as both of you moaned at the feeling of been connected after awhile.

Your fingers curled into fists as you gripped into the sheets, and your thoughts begin to turn fuzzy. His cock pounding again and again against that spot, making you moan out aloud.

"Sergei, please--" you moaned. His head tilted forward, eyes meeting yours. There’s a clench in his jaw that told you he wasn't far off, that he was just as wrapped up in this as you are.

After what felt like forward, you felt him spilling inside you, and you moaned at the feeling, coming as well. He kissed between your neck and shoulder as he stilled.

Both of you panted as he lifted his head and lowered his lips against yours, kissing you softly as you held onto him. "Don't push me away," you said softly.

"I won't," he said, "I can't do it." He brushed your hair from your face and kissed down your cheek and down to your neck.

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 3

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: dinner at Steve & Connie's new apartment goes a little south as tension runs high between you and your brother—as well as between you and Javier.

word count: 4.4k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

series masterlist | AO3

Javier had underestimated New York by all accounts. He knew it was a huge city, but the nickname “the city that never sleeps” somehow evaded him till he actually moved in here a few weeks ago. The constant lights, people everywhere, the noise… it all contributed to unwelcomed flashbacks for Javier, which meant that some nights he laid wide awake in his bed, too afraid to close his eyes.

He doesn’t want to see the bodies of those he had failed.

So instead, he thinks of Steve and Connie and their daughter, starting out fresh in the United States like Colombia’s hell hadn’t followed them, like it doesn’t still haunt them. He thinks of how they’re a family, united through love and support, and he thinks of you.

Rather, he thinks of your strained relationship with Steve, and he grimaces.

Javier tries to imagine a younger Steve being bossed around by his little sister and surprisingly, he has to suppress a chuckle. Quite a funny imagery, Javier decides as he roams around his kitchen at the crack of dawn, scrambling to make some toast and a cup of black coffee. It grows even funnier when he recalls Steve’s exact words about you: “growing up, even if she’s my little sister, she’s the one who bullied me”.

The smile that breaks from his lips remains amused for a little while as his dry breakfast is in the making. It only fades when his thoughts go into a rather surprising—and frankly forbidden area.

Though he begs his mind to oblige to basic commands and envision other things, Javier still falls victim to thoughts of you exchanging glares with so-called bad boys, batting your eyelashes at them and smiling, revealing enough cleavage only to tease, never to give the full taste.

And when he remembers that you live right below him, probably still asleep at this early hour, Javier clears his throat and takes the first bite of toast. He swallows with difficulty, even more so as he recalls the way your hand practically slid inside his pants, hectic and yet so calculated, with cat-like precision and without a care in the world as to how or if that may affect him.

Stop, he shushes his spinning mind.

He reckons this is happening because… well… it’s been a while. Fourteen months, to be exact. Last he shared some intimacy with someone was back in Cali with Gabriella, and it had been, as usual, something quick to take the edge off and satiate the body’s primal need, and they both called it a night. Then things went a bit south and next thing he knew, he packed up his things and returned to his pop’s ranch. And upon his pop’s repeated request, he spoke with Steve and they both agreed on taking this job in New York.

It’s unusual for Javier to be celibate for this long, but in the past year he’s come to realize that all of his encounters with women, while direct and straight to the point, have been meaningless—almost. It was never about having a relationship in the midst of a drug war; that much was clear from the get-go. And Javier never let any of the women he’d seen believe otherwise, less so himself. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope or even want a relationship, not after the things he’d seen and not after almost getting married for all the wrong reasons.

Almost. The word seems to haunt him as much as Colombia itself does.

He’s still not convinced he’d be a good partner to someone. So perhaps celibacy might be good for him. He could take this time to reflect more on himself and grow as a better man. He doesn’t really mind it, though.

When he’s getting in Steve’s car at 7 am sharp, he’s in a good, clear headspace. Especially because he’d hate to have his best friend know that he was thinking of his little sister less than an hour ago. Hell, even Javier doesn’t want to think about that.

But there’s no harm to wonder about someone, right? His thoughts hadn’t been depraved or resembling interest. He was simply being curious about who you are as a person.

“You doing okay today?” Steve asks.

“Peachy. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda deep in thought.”

“Didn’t get enough sleep to be buried deep in thoughts.”

Steve chuckles, focused on the road. “How’s my sister doin’?”

“The fuck you askin’ me about your sister, how should I know?”

“I figured since you live in the same building you guys see each other on the daily.”

Javier immediately shakes his head, exhausted already from the conversation.

“Don’t do this, man,” he warns Steve. “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what? I didn’t insinuate anything.”

“You were about to. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I got no plans to mess with your sister and she’s not even the kind of girl I’d date. I’m steering clear of her, and we both got lives of our own, different schedules.”

“It’s all cool. I just figured you spoke more with her.”

Javier frowns. “You haven’t talked to her lately?”

“No, no, we have. Just… I don’t know, I guess I just assumed things would naturally pick up between us.”

“It’s not gonna be magically okay between you two. It’s been years, and it takes effort and time. But I’m sure you’ll—patch things up.”

“Thanks, man. Sorry if I seemed suspicious.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

Steve falters and Javier does take notice, but he doesn’t give him a hard time about it.

“Speaking of patching things up… our apartment’s ready, so Connie suggested we invite you both to dinner.”

“Sounds nice. When?”

“How about tonight?”

“Uh—yeah, sure.”

“Can you tell my sister too? Since—you know, you live in the same—“

“Why don’t you tell her yourself? Just call her and invite her.”

As he glances to the driver’s seat, Javier finally notices how nervous his friend looks.

“Why are you nervous?” he asks Steve. “You’re siblings for fuck’s sake.”

To which his friend shrugs, letting a heavy sigh along with it. “I did some mistakes in the past trying to look after her and I… I want us to be friends again.”

“I don’t think removing any male presence from her life is the solution.”

“Probably isn’t, yeah.”

“Probably?”

Both burst into laughter right as Steve parks in front of the precinct.

“You know I don’t actually think all that shit about you,” he tells Javier. “That you’re a womanizer and you mess with every woman you meet. I know you never mistreated any of the girls you were seeing, in any sort of way, and I know you wouldn’t do that to my sister.”

“I wouldn’t. That is, you know, if I’d actually date your sister. Which I won’t.”

“Yeah I know, she’s far from the women you normally—see.”

Javier unknowingly holds his breath, then releases it slowly and steadily, as to not give away the fact that the mention of dating and you in the same sentence requires deep breaths. It shouldn’t, really, but somehow knowing that Steve kindly asked him to stay away from his flesh and blood…

Yeah, maybe some deep breaths are required in order to forget the fact that he thought of you bright and early this morning, handling him like he was nothing but a piece of clay.

But his thoughts weren’t depraved to begin with, so he’s safe. It was simple curiosity.

“So tonight, what time?” Javier inquires instead.

“Seven.”

“Alright.”

Javier gets through the day’s tasks with little to no exertion. He keeps quieter than usual, which luckily none of his colleagues or superiors notice because no one’s taking the time to know anyone personally, and today he is grateful for that.

So for the rest of the day he wonders about the kind of atmosphere that will await him once he sets foot inside Steve and Connie’s apartment. He knows them together and separately, and he vaguely knows you, but he has no clue what to expect from being under the same roof as the three of you. And frankly, he’s not really sure what to expect out of you, either. Probably just—the unexpected. He’s had a basic, mere taste of what you are like and you seem like a lot to handle. Combined with Steve’s obsessive need to be protective over you?

Yeah, tonight should be fun as hell.

He buys a bottle of white wine regardless and rings the door at the freshly renovated apartment at 7:07 p.m. Steve opens the door, smiling rather cordially than out of friendliness, so Javier’s eyes shot straight to Olivia cooing in his arms.

“Fair warning, Connie’s all wired because of tonight,” he mutters. “So if you hear some sharp commands… don’t question it.”

“It’s just a housewarming dinner.”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t tell that to her. Come on in.”

Javier stifles a mocking sound, so he playfully pinches Olivia’s little elbow instead, to which she giggles and hides in Steve’s shoulder.

“See? All the girls are into you,” Steve jokes.

“Come on, Murphy.”

“Just kidding!”

The smell of warm food swathes Javier, more so when he walks into the kitchen, cautiously looking around so as to not startle Connie. He notices her by the counter, frantically stirring something that looks like a salad.

“Smells delicious, Con.”

She turns almost violently fast, her face lighting up when she meets Javier’s benevolent face. Then she goes in for a hug, her eyes landing on the bottle of wine in his large hand.

“I’m so glad you made it!” she smiles. “And whoa, that is quite an expensive bottle of wine, isn’t it?”

“Uh—medium.”

“I hope lasagna is okay. Homemade from scratch—“

“Connie, relax. It smells delicious, and I bet it’ll be even more delicious.”

Connie’s smile widens and Javier can easily read relief on her face. “By the way, you know Steve’s sister is coming too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Steve told me. Looking forward to the family dynamic you guys got going on. Sure that’ll be fun.”

Connie snorts. “Well. The Murphy siblings are quite something, let me tell you that. Their relationship has been rocky for years, since she went out to college, but Steve’s been trying to reconnect, and I think tonight can be a good step forward.”

“Kind of feels like I’m intruding then.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know we consider you part of our family. You’re Olivia’s uncle.”

“Well I’m his aunt, and I’m not sure I’m into whatever vibe’s been pushed onto the two of us then.”

Both Javier and Connie turn towards you, each smiling in your direction, though you sense warmth and love from your sister-in-law and nothing but mere politeness from Javier. Which makes sense, given how you’re practically strangers and you seem to have nothing in common.

“Hi,” you smile at him, too wide for Javier’s own taste.

“Hola señorita,” he nods.

You can’t help the sound that leaves your throat, a rather mocking sound. “Why do you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“The thing where you greet me with your ‘come and get it’ voice, all sultry and in Spanish too. Do you greet all the ladies like that?”

Javier frowns. “I don’t have a ‘come and get’—what?”

But then he hears Connie’s stifled chuckle and he redirects his frown towards her.

“You do kind of have that voice that’s meant to be… persuasive with the ladies.”

“I don’t—shut up.”

He places the wine bottle on the countertop then settles in the living room. Not a moment too late, Steve makes his appearance, crashing on the couch next to him.

“Alright, Olivia should be down for a couple of hours at least, but that remains to be seen,” he jokes.

“Your sister’s a real tough nut.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me. What she do?”

“Said I have a ‘come and get it’ voice.”

Steve lets out a hearty laugh, a sound Javier hasn’t heard before. Though he doesn’t reciprocate and merely frowns in his friend’s direction, he can’t help but appreciate seeing him happy. Even if it is at Javier’s expense.

“You do,” Steve agrees after a while. “You do have that kind of voice.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Jav, I’ve seen you at work countless times. Even walked in on you once while you and Helena were—“

“Don’t bring that up again.”

“Sorry. But why are you pouting about this anyway? Never seen you react like this cause of somethin’ a girl said. A girl like my sister, no less.”

Javier remains quiet. Why did he pout and walk away while you and Connie remained engaged in conversation in the kitchen? It is unlike him, Steve got that right; he’d never feel in any way, shape or form small because of a woman, and even if he could be hurt by a woman, he wouldn’t let it show. Not that it is a conscious choice, but rather another bizarre coping mechanism of his.

Yet it seems that you calling him out on his polite manner of greeting is causing his body to react in unusual ways.

Huh.

“What are you two girls gossiping about?” your voice reaches the living room and Javier instantly stiffens, but he still gets up from the couch and helps Connie set the table, steering clear away from you.

Which you notice. Of course you notice.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know?” you address him directly.

Connie’s eyes follow the two of you intently as you stare at each other from opposite sides of the table. She doesn’t say a word; she can only steal curious glances.

“Unless you’re into that, which… mea culpa, I can get into that too,” you smile mischievously, and Javier fights off the mental image of you leaving bite marks over his neck.

Calm the fuck down, Peña. This is just the dry spell talking.

The more he looks at you, as quickly as humanly possible, and the more he listens to you, the more he acknowledges that yes, you are far from his type.

Which couldn’t be more of a great thing.

“You two sound like an old couple with all this back and forth,” Steve says, laying the lasagna tray right in the middle of the table and makes a face.

“Not sure I’d be up for that challenge. And that’s coming from me.”

“Please! You couldn’t stop talking about marrying Derek, that guy you dated when you got into college. Marrying a bad boy was like your lifelong dream.”

You chuckle, taking a seat in front of Javier as he pours you and Connie some wine.

“That was definitely not my life’s dream,” you smile. “But since you wanna spill tea about the past in front of our guest—“

“You got nothing on me.”

Your smile turns into a rather devious smirk, and Javier can’t help but notice just how well you can match your big brother’s energy, how well you are prepared to handle anything he throws at you.

Resilience. Strength. He admires that.

“Oh yeah?” you cock an eyebrow at your brother, then immediately face Javier and focus all of your attention on him. “Get this: when Steven and Connie started dating, it was all very much textbook romance. The honeymoon stage was all honey and sugar. Every song was about them, every poem was about them. Which meant, naturally, that they were going at it every chance they got, on every surface they could find.”

“Sure,” Javier nods.

“We weren’t really like that,” Connie intervenes softly.

But you raise your hand, dismissing her, and continue. “One day, I stop by Steven’s place and I notice there’s clothes everywhere. I think to myself, ‘must’ve been a wild night, good for them’ because I’m genuinely happy for my brother and I really like his new girlfriend, right? Wrong.”

“Please don’t say it,” Steve begs.

“I make my way to the kitchen, when suddenly I feel something soft and rather moist against my foot.”

“You’re saying it.”

“I look down, and I realize I stepped on a condom.”

“Was it—?”

“That’s right, Javier. I stepped on my big brother’s used condom.”

Javier does everything in his power to not laugh, so he munches on a big piece of lasagna and salad. He washes it all down with a sip of wine, noticing Connie hiding her face in her palms and Steve rubbing his temples and staring into the distance.

“What did I do to you that you had to tell that story?!” Steve exclaims.

“You laughed at my lifelong dream. Which by the way, does not revolve around marriage. And certainly not marrying a bad boy or anything related to that. No offense, Javier.”

“None taken till… just now.”

“Is this about the stupid Star Wars disagreement again?”

Javier’s frown deepens, looking at Connie for some sort of information, yet nothing is readable on her face except an expression that resembles a big “oh shit”.

“’Disagreement’?” you repeat incredulously.

“You guys fought over Star Wars?” Javier surprises himself asking out loud.

“It’s not like that,” Steve says.

“I used to write fanfiction, specifically for Star Wars,” you clarify, your tone bitter now. “That’s how I got started with writing. I love books and reading and… I love writing. That’s why I work at the library.”

“A lot of people get their start through fanfiction, I think it’s great,” Connie adds in what feels like a futile attempt to dissolve some of the tension.

But it’s increasingly clear that the relationship between you and Steve carries more than tension from some silly arguments and some bickering. It runs deeper than what he imagined on his way here, and suddenly he feels guilty for being in the middle.

“I still don’t see the point of it, I’m sorry,” Steve mutters.

“Of course you don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No, I really don’t mean to insult or hurt you, you know that. It’s just… to me, I’m just wondering what the point in writing for a story that’s already been written is?”

You feel anger bubbling at the surface, barely protruding your skin, and yet it simmers dangerously close to your breaking point. You do not want to make a scene, not at this housewarming dinner that Connie worked hard to organize, and not in front of someone who’s practically a stranger.

“The point is creativity, expressing your own thoughts and emotions through words,” you say through clenched teeth. “Even if it is an existing story. You can build within it so that it remains unique and faithful to the material.”

“I’m not the bad guy here, sis. I swear I’m not trying to—“

“It’s not about what you’re trying to do, it’s about what you are doing. And you’re being a dick right now. Excuse me.”

You take a large sip of wine on your way out of the living room, hoping nobody follows you in your pursuit to the bathroom. Yet somehow you end up in a bedroom, presumably Steve and Connie’s judging by the framed picture of them and Olivia on the nightstand. You exhale loudly, closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself.

You know Steve doesn’t want to hurt you. The opposite, really: everything he’s ever done, the reason why he always pushed so hard and pressured and became annoying was because he wanted to protect you in the first place. He loves you and wanted nothing more but to make sure you were safe. You know that.

But right now, you feel like you’re seventeen again, crying in anger, begging your family to just notice you and understand that you are not some freak for being on the quiet side, and the frustration that comes along with the sentiment is nearly debilitating.

A knock on the door startles you, and you roll your eyes. “Not in the mood, Steven. Gimme another two minutes, maybe I’ll conjure a smile then.”

“It’s Javier. Can I come in?”

You’re met with his face, poorly lit, and you nod. He reluctantly sits next to you on the bed, hands intertwined together between his legs. He’s clearly feeling a little awkward, but not too much since he followed you in here.

“You okay?” he asks.

You snort. “Do you really care?”

“I’m not a heartless monster, so… yeah, I guess. Besides the silence at the table is… a killer. Even Olivia’s more talkative. Pretty sure Connie’s laying it onto Steve right about now.”

“I pray you don’t mean physically.”

“Sure as hell hope not.”

You both chuckle, so soft and silent it could go unnoticed by the untrained ear.

“Anyway,” Javier resumes whilst clearing his throat as if what he’s about to say is painful, “I think it’s cool you wrote for Star Wars.”

“I take it you’re a fan?”

“Big time.”

“So… you don’t think my writing is a waste of time?”

“If it’s what you love to do, it never is a waste of time.”

Baffled, you turn towards him. “Watch it, Peña. I might start thinking you’re a good guy after all and so I could spend my time with you.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Definitely not. I’m avoiding you like the plague.”

Javier smiles, looking away from you. You’re witty and got a sharp tongue, but you are still not his type. Even so, you’re not that terrible to joke around with.

“I’m sure you’re a good writer though,” he says, and he’s shocked at his own honesty.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Would you mind telling that to my brother?”

“There are few things I actually mind telling him straight to his face.”

You both laugh, just when Connie knocks on the door, eyes locked on your figure. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, and this time it’s with relief. “Shockingly, Peña calmed me down. Where’s Steven?”

“Sent him outside to cool down. Don’t let him know you guys were alone in here.”

“Why?” Javier inquires.

“I think he thinks that… well… given your tumultuous past and your well-known reputation with the ladies…”

A laughter escapes your throat, rich and sardonic. “He thinks we’re gonna fuck with the first chance we get?” you keep laughing. “Is that how little faith he has in his best friend and his flesh and blood? Motherfucker.”

Connie coos your name, though you it doesn’t really register with you.

“Also, ‘tumultuous past’, seriously? He can call it what it is. I was smoking, drinking, and hanging out with the baddest boys I could find to teach my parents and my big brother a valuable lesson. Lesson that I see has passed by all three of them.”

“Con, I made a promise to a friend. And I intend to keep it. Besides, she’s really not my type, so neither one of you has to worry.”

You shift closer to Javier. “Oh, you mean you don’t find me available and with no standards?”

“See?” Javier smiles, though evidently a little riled up. “We’re fine.”

“O-kay.”

“I should go. Thanks for dinner, Con, it was very nice. The food, cause what followed was…”

“Yeah. Let me walk you out.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see myself out.”

You watch Javier disappear out the frame, your eyes lingering in the doorway one second too long. You’re very appreciative of the way he came in to comfort you, even if he did so rather clumsily. Maybe he’s not good with words. Or maybe he’s not used to comforting women.

Not in this way, at least.

Then you feel Connie’s gaze on you, burning you alive with questions she doesn’t dare ask, and you feel defensive. “What?”

“All the teasing? Him immediately coming to check on you? Comforting you? Plus, the eyes at the table…”

“What eyes? We’re neighbors, barely acquaintances. You’re reading way into it, Connie.”

She raises her arms in defense. “I’m just saying, for a moment there it seemed like you were interested in each other.”

You tsk disapprovingly. “You heard the man, I am definitely not his type.”

“What about him? Is he your type?”

“Connie. Sweetheart. He’s the walking poster for a bad boy. Inconspicuous past, questionable morals and definitely traumatized. While this was exactly what sixteen year old me would’ve swooned over, as sexy as all of that sounds and as attractive as I’d find him, because I’d be lying if I’d say I don’t… no, thank you. Grown me is more mindful of what—or whom—she puts inside her body.”

“Look, I’m not sure what Steve told you about him, but they’re friends for a reason. Not just cause they were partners in the DEA but Javi’s a really good guy. He might’ve done some questionable things back in Colombia, but so did Steve. They did what they had to do to survive and do their jobs, and Javi is actually a very caring person. He just doesn’t like showing it often.”

You rummage through Connie’s words, breaking down each and every single one of them so as to construct a better image of the man that is Javier Peña: a good, honorable man and friend, charming devil to the ladies, but always honest and upfront despite the wall of solitude and grumpiness he puts forth.

Yep. A walking poster for bad boys.

Even worse.

A former bad boy who’s learned from his mistakes and now wants to do better.

“I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t have to sell Javier’s reputation to me. I am not interested,” you reply absentmindedly.

“Alright, suit yourself. But it’s too bad. I think this could be something great for both of you.”

Again you tsk, this time more stubbornly, and you agree to return to the living room and have another glass of wine while you think of how comforted you felt in the presence of whom you could only describe as the most attractive stranger you have ever seen.

previous | next

tags: @pedrostories @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @psychedelic-ink @casa-boiardi

[miheartsedthings]

good morning, with billy !

Lovely ~ @billysbot

Thanks for being patient while I worked on this. It's kinda angsty, but ends on fluff. Hope you like it!

Words: ~ 3,000

SFW Billy x Reader

Summary: Billy moves back to California with scars and unfinished business with you. He shows up to a party you're throwing. As usual, the two of you are the last ones awake, and it's finally time to settle your childhood beef.

Warnings: Aggressive behavior, angst, Mind Flayer, fluff

Billy’s been home a few months already. He has a job at his buddy’s surf shop and an apartment Susan insisted on putting him up in. What he doesn't have is the nerve to call you. The events at Star Court left him changed, and as he sat in the hospital through graduation, he couldn’t stop thinking about the road that had led him there. All the anger and resentment he’d brought with him to Hawkins, all the ways those negative emotions had torn through him, bringing out the very worst. Sure, some of it had been that monster, but there was plenty of darkness for it to feed on. Wrath he’d cultivated and thrived on. The Flayer had only taken advantage, turned it on him so he could feel it just as harshly as he inflicted it on others.

Steve, Nancy, and the kids all regarded him differently. With reverence and a little weariness. They had never trusted him, and now they never would. The only exception to this was Max. After the Mind Flayer was gone, she treated Billy like a brother, and in his injured state, he was in no position to refuse it. She visited him in the hospital, with food, and mixtapes she'd made of new songs coming out. He was grateful for her, happy the rest of them were alive. But he needed to get away. 

Hawkins was a different place in the wake of that nightmare. Every shadow filled with movement, every sound insidious. Even the buildings themselves were strange. Besides, he was shaken, and there was no more energy for keg stands and ripping around town in the Camaro. He needed to rest in a place that felt safe. To rediscover the person he’d been before Hawkins, before his mom’s desertion. He needed to go home.  

As soon as he was well enough, he packed up the Camaro and took off, bound for California. Max refused to cry but he could tell she was sad. It was wild for Billy to think his little brat of a step-sister would miss him. Back in Cali, the scenery was brighter, but Billy was flooded with memories of his childhood; days that were full to the brim with you. 

The two of you met as kids, taking swimming lessons at the local pool. You were partnered up one day and from then on you were inseparable. You went to different schools, which didn't stop you from meeting every weekend to go swimming or hit the arcade or the movie theater. You spent Summer days riding your bikes around town trying to find trouble. He was the person you'd talk to when you fought with your girlfriends. Your house was where he ran when things got hard with his dad. You were best friends until the day his mom disappeared. 

It was your junior year of high school. You'd watched each other change and grown attached to each other's company. Even though you'd both dated and cared for other people, you'd never felt for anyone else the way you felt about each other. The line between friendship and love was so thin the slightest pressure could’ve broken it. You thought you’d have the courage to confess your feelings that summer before senior year. Then, one day, he didn't wanna talk to you anymore.

“Are you kidding?” 

You sat there on your bike, watching him flick a lighter over and over just to see the flame spring to life before letting it extinguish. All you knew was that his mom was gone, not how, or when or why. 

“You're really not gonna tell me what happened?”

He sat on his porch steps, his face etched into a frown. He was acting tough but you could tell he'd been crying. When his eyes lifted to yours you expected they would soften like usual, but he glared at you. 

“Hello?” You called. 

He looked away. That's when you hopped off your bike, letting it fall in the grass, and snatched for the lighter. He shoved you away. You landed hard on your wrist, an instant burst of pain making you cry out. Usually when you horsed around and one of you got hurt, the other would snap out of it. Apologize. He just stood there on the porch steps, glaring down at you. 

“Don't act like you care.” He sneered.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He turned to walk inside and something desperate let loose inside you. The need to reverse whatever was happening by whatever means necessary. 

“William.”

He stopped in his tracks. 

Slowly, he turned, his eyes full of ice. For a moment you thought good, I have his attention. Then, he came down the steps and grabbed you by your injured wrist, yanking you to your feet. It didn't seem to matter that he was hurting you. He got in your face, glaring with such coldness. 

“Don't you ever. EVER fucking call me that.” 

His eyes were stone, his lips pinched into a tight line, and for the first time in your life, you were afraid of him. You felt yourself shrinking away, and when he let you go you stumbled back, tripped over your bike, and landed hard on the sidewalk. 

The boy you'd grown up with was gone, and in his place was someone too full of anger to get close to. He was a burning sun. 

The two of you stopped speaking. 

A couple of weeks later you heard a rumor he was moving, and then he was gone. 

Billy has looked back on the day he pushed you so many times. Every time he remembers the look on your face, all that pain and confusion, it fills him with regret. He wanted more than anything to call you and apologize, but every time he picked up the phone he found himself frozen, just staring at it. What would he say? How could he explain? In the end, he heard from one of his old buddies that you were throwing a party, and he resolved to be there. He'd say what he needed to say. One way or another. 

“Happy Youcla?”

Piper makes a face looking at the banner Tracy made, and Tracy makes a face back. 

“You-C-LA. It's like, an acronym. For UCLA?” 

“Okay. Why?” Piper asks. 

“It's fine,” you interject before the two can start fighting again, “It's cute. It's unique, Trac, I love it.” 

Your friend group is…eclectic, and only on special occasions do they tolerate each other for your benefit. Your college going-away party is just the thing to bring them all together for one night. Which didn't stop it from being nerve-wracking. The house is yours for one more weekend, your parents away on a strategically planned vacation, giving you space for one final iconic L/N bash. Your friends have pulled out all the stops, decorating, sourcing booze and grass, one of them even offering to DJ. 

The party is going well, friends from high school plus some people you’ve never even met crowd into the house, sitting along the stairs and standing in the halls. Filling the house with noise and laughter. You quickly get lost in it, drinking and dancing. Your head is empty until Billy walks in. 

He takes you completely by surprise. You recognize his face, of course (who could forget that face?) but the rest of him is a shock. Growing up, both of you were a couple of dorks. Your mothers dressed the two of you in corduroy and plaid. Matching Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. Now he's wearing denim and leather, putting a cigarette out in an abandoned solo cup. His chest is clearly bulky under his red button-up, and he saunters through the foyer with an undeniable magnetism that draws dozens of eyes. 

He's fucking hot.

His eyes scan the crowd, and then he sees you. He pauses mid-stride and stares at you for a long moment, a little smirk curling his lips. You turn away, your whole body flushing hot. God damn. Your childhood bestie is a certified smokin'-hot baddie. When you glance back he's flanked by a few of your friends who didn't grow up around here. He gives them well-meaning smiles, but his eyes come back to yours, making you look away again. 

Fuck.

You thought you'd be ready when B-boy came back, but you can hardly stand his gaze. You didn't expect he'd be this fuckin fine. You’d always found him cute, but it was nothing like this! Now, he's being mobbed by girls the second he enters a party. You find yourself wondering how you look compared to your old self. Billy used to tease you about your looks, and now here he is. You move around the corner into the living room, taking another long drink to take your mind off things. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Piper says, coming into the living room with you. “Is that B-boy Hargrove?”

You make a weak, anxious noise and drain your cup, your body buzzing. 

“Holy shit.” Piper continues “He’s a fuckin smoke show.”

You have to buy yourself time to figure out how to talk to him without losing your mind. What on Earth would you even say? You spend the night dodging him. Luckily, everyone's eager for his ear and keep flocking to him, flooding him with questions. You’re sure he hates it, the smell of desperation always annoyed him, but you aren’t ready. Your wrist had been sprained that day and ever since it tends to ache when you’re upset, as you are now. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and old bitterness is filling your throat. 

At some point, you're heading into the garage for more beer, and just as you're opening the extra fridge the door to the house opens and there he is. Billy stands there looking you up and down. Your body is warm and you're full of nerves. 

“Hey.” You manage. You clear your throat and grab the six pack you'd come for. “I don't know why everyone insists on these being ice cold.” You say, at a loss for words. At least, words that make any sense. “I mean, of course, you don't want warm beer but it gives you a damn brain freeze sometimes.” 

He's standing there stone-faced, looking at you so seriously you wonder if he's come with bad news. 

“We should talk.”

Your breath catches in your lungs, staying there for a moment. 

“About what?” You shrug, panicking. 

Of all the ways you thought you'd react to Billy coming home, you didn't think it'd be like this. At the moment, all you want is to scramble away from him. Escape the tangle of emotions welling up inside you. The anger you thought you’d let go of, and the sadness underneath it. He’d thrown you away. There's so much you wanna say to him. Too much.

“Ya know, we were kids, B. It's whatever. I gotta get this beer inside, though.” 

You approach him, hoping he'll move, and when he doesn't you're forced to confront the reality of how he looks. He’s fucking beautiful, and he’s looking at you like he wants to say something. You're right in front of him and memories are flooding you, rushing around in a whirlpool. 

The time the two of you hid in the mall until it closed, or hacked one of the PAC Man games at the arcade and used the bounty of quarters to go hog wild in the candy store. The night you had your first kiss stolen by some jerk at summer camp and Billy kept ranting about finding the guy and beating him up for you. 

His desire to defend you had put you at ease. 

“You're a babe now, but you're still a chicken.” He says with a smirk. 

“You're one to talk.” 

You brush past him, successfully avoiding him for the rest of the night. 

The house is quiet and littered with abandoned cups. Here and there things are where they shouldn’t be; a throw pillow on the stairs, a desk lamp in the bathroom. It’s so close to sunrise and you’re so tired, but you can’t sleep. You can never sleep after a party. So you go downstairs, finally leaving your room where you’d been hiding out (crying), and make your way to the living room. Someone left the TV on, and Singin' in the Rain is playing at a low volume. Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds, and Donald O’Connor are tapping through the opening number. You pull a throw blanket from the floor and wrap it around yourself. Just as you’re getting comfortable on the couch, you hear rustling in the kitchen. Billy emerges with a coffee mug. 

You both pause, and he leans against the archway, looking as comfortable as ever. Like he belongs there in your home.

“Can’t sleep.” he says.

You're too tired to scurry away and let him sit beside you.

“Since when do you drink coffee?”

“They gave it to me all the time at the hospital.” 

This gets your attention.

“You got hurt?”

“It's a long story.” 

The two of you sit side by side, falling into a comfortable silence. His presence beside you is warm and familiar. 

“You’re different.” he says. 

“Yeah well, so are you. Ladies man now.”

He smirks a real cocky little grin that doesn’t last. It melts away while he’s looking into the mug, and it's replaced with a forlorn expression. He’s nervous. You can always tell when he’s nervous.

“For a while, I thought I’d never see you again," you say. 

His grip tightens around the cup. It’s the novelty mug you got from Virginia Beach the summer you turned 12. A vacation you'd shared with Billy and his parents. 

“How was Indiana, anyway?”

He groans, leaning back against the couch. 

“A fuckin nightmare. And I mean that in so many ways, when I tell you about all the shit…” 

He looks at you, his eyes groggy from alcohol and lack of sleep. 

“It was like that time I got stuck in the Devil's Mansion at the county fair.”

You nod at the memory.

“I remember. You freaked out, and started breaking all the puppets.” 

His eyes are clouded with memories, and the kind of fear you haven’t seen in him in a long time. He’s come home haunted. Injured. Your heart beats hard in your chest. 

“There's so much I wanna tell you.” he says. 

“Just start by saying you're sorry.”

His blue eyes are the ones you recognize. 

“I am, Y/n. I think about that day all the time.” 

You look at him and see the boy you grew up with. 

“What happened?” 

He sighs, taking a beat to reach that tender place he hides away. It's hard for him, even with you. 

“She left. She just left that morning and she didn't say shit to me.” 

Your eyes tear up as he lets this out, replaying the day he’d hurt you. 

“But that didn't mean I had to take it out on you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay. 

“It kinda…you kinda fucked me up that day..."

Your voice is strained, feather fragile. He sets down the coffee and turns his body to face you, pulling his leg up on the couch so there’s only a small wedge of space between yourself and his lap. His face is tight, and he runs his hands into his hair the way he does when he's frustrated. 

“I know, I'm- I'm fuckin sorry, I…I've been thinking about all this shit lately. I've hurt a lot of people, and it all started that day. You were the first person and you didn't deserve it.” 

You can't help it anymore, you're swelled with emotions and the tears start coming. You wipe them on your sleeve. He looks so sad to see you cry, his face growing red. 

“Ya know,” you begin “My biggest fear for a while was that you'd never apologize, and we'd never go surfing on Lizard Island.” 

He laughed. It filled him with so much relief that you were the same sentimental weirdo he'd left over a year ago. 

“You forgive me?” He asked. 

Outside, the first rays of sunlight were peeking through, and on the screen, the trio tapped across a grand foyer singing ‘Good mornin’, good mooornin’!’ 

“Yeah, B,” you manage, your voice breaking “I forgave you a long time ago.” 

He smiles, and in the light of morning, it’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't stand it anymore, you lean over and kiss him and he pulls you into his arms, your body falling into his warm lap. He kisses you deeply, taking your lips and tongue in a greedy show of affection. 

The sweetest ‘Good Morning’ you’ve ever known. 

 

Thanks for the request! ~

[sensei-venus]

Wait omg your Anthony x reader was pure gold. I live for getting caught scenes. But the part with Hawk 🤣

Could you write something with Hawk x Chubby reader where they are dating and he catches Anthony checking out her out?

(Unedited) ( Possibly part 2? Idk if it fits a part 2 or not)

The pool was packed for it not being summer yet. The whole dojo finally decided to come together once again and go to the pool. No karate war going on meant actually getting to have fun at the pool for once. Everyone loved the idea of going to the pool on the weekend to hang out and have some good old fun on a hot cali day.

Hawk picked up his girlfriend in his car and they headed towards the pool.

Reader couldn’t help but giggle as she pulled her bag into her lap in the passenger side seat. Her face was beaming with a smile on her lips. Hawk raised a brow as he watched the road infront of them.

“I am so excited! I bought a new bathing suit just for today. When I found out we got invited to go to the pool I couldn’t help but get a brand new one. I haven’t bought a new one since last summer.”

Hawk hummed at her words, he was happy to see her so excited about a simple outing to the pool.

“ Should I ask about this new bathing suit or should I just wait and be surprised?”

“Well I would hope your surprised about it! But I think you have already seen it. It was something I tried on at the mall a couple weeks back, when you, me and Miguel where hanging out? We meet him in the food court for lunch.”

Honestly, Hawk didn’t remember that trip to much. He mostly just remembered meeting Miguel for lunch. He bought them all ice cream at the small place in the food court.

Also the fact that right after him and Reader left, they fucked in the back of the car in the mall parking lot. It was super clear in his head because he had actually ripped her panties and he promised to buy her a new set the next time they went to the mall again. It was a fun time.

“I’m just going to wait and see, I get to see you all wet this time.”

Reader huffed and punched him in the shoulder making him grin and scoff.

When they finally made it to the pool Hawk parked his car and the two teens got out. He hugged Reader close as they walked up to the entrance where they met Miguel,Sam,Moon and Demetri who where hanging around out front. All of the still had their normal clothes on. Once Moon and Sam got a look at the two they practically ripped Reader away from Hawk. Reader waved to her boyfriend before she was pulled in by the two girls and dragged to the changing rooms and bathroom’s. Sam spoke up first talking about how excited she was to finally get to go swimming again. Moon talked about how her mom gifted her a new bathing suit, a skimpy bikini set that matched her eyes. At least that’s what her mom said.

Going into one of the stalls Reader changed into her new bikini set.

Reader slowly opened her stall door and came out. Sam and Moon where already done getting into their swim suits and stood outside her stall. They both gasped at her, for a minute Reader wanted to hide thinking maybe her bikini didn’t actually look as cute as she though. Her hand and arms tried to cover her self before the other two girls where borderline jumpy on her. Her eyes widened as Moon squealed.

“Omg your outfit is so cute! Did you get it at the mall??? I want to get one too.”

“Reader you look so cute in that bikini. It suites you perfectly.”

Readers cheeks felt hot as she uncovered her self again. She nodded and they talked for a moment about her bikini.

The three girls headed back out and into the main part of the pool area. They quickly spotted some of the boys. Robby and Demetri where already in the water with Tory throwing a ball around and swimming. Miguel and Hawk sat on the sidelines, most likely trying to protect their seats. The park was pretty busy now. Hawk pulled his shades down as the girls came into the picture. His eyes scanning over Reader as she moved though the small crowed of people and into his view. He watched as her thighs and belly jiggled with every step and the way her breasts moved up and down. The fact that her tits where still in the top was amazing to him.

She looked fucking hot.

As she got closer she smiled and waved at the two boys. Miguel gave a small wave as he pointed to a few empty seats beside them. All three girls finally got over to the boys and sat down. Reader made a beeline to the seat next to Hawk, he smirked as she sat down, his eyes following the swell of her ass as she sat down next to him. She dropped her bag between the two chairs and sighed. Hawk leaned over and gave her a small kiss and she gladly accepted. The two pulled apart and Hawk put his sunglasses back up.

Reader looked around for a minute before reaching for her bag and unzipping it. Her hands searched around for a good minute or two before she realized what she forgot. She felt bad for asking.

“Babe can you go check your car for me? I think I left my sunscreen in the car. I don’t want any of us burning under this sun. Especially you, one sun burn and your out of commission hun.” Hawk fake grunted and mumbled about going to grab it from the car for her. She gave a small “thank you Hawk~” as he left in search of the forgotten sunscreen. With him gone she turned over and looked to her friends to talk to while he was gone.

A thick mop of black hair moved though the crowed and caught her eye.

“Is it bad that I forgot Anthony was coming? Poor guy I completely forgot about him.”

“I’m his sister and sometimes I forget him too, don’t feel to bad.”

The younger boy stud by the pool for a few minutes as they talked. Reader looked over at him a few times to make sure he was ok, he seemed to be staring at something over by them. She shrugged it off and kept talking to her friends. She didn’t think about it again until she looked over and in a split second saw Anthony being shoved into the pool by some random kid. Reader couldn’t help but get up and run over to pool to see if he was alright. He hit the water hard and splashed right into the deep end. Reader quickly grabbed the boy from the water and help him haul himself up and out of the water. He coughed and spit up a bit of water as he gasped for air.

“Oh my god Anthony are you ok?! Did you hit your head when you fell in? Come on let’s get you dried off.”

She pulled the teen to his feet and lead him over to where she was sitting originally. Sam looked over and rolled her eyes before going back to sunbathing.

Anthony sat down on the pool chair, completely drenched in water. He basically looked like a wet cat. His eyes where a bit glazed over and his breath a little messed up from all the water he just inhaled. But his eyes where still working.

That’s how he got a eye full of Readers ass that was basically out for show as she searched around in her bag for a extra towel. He couldn’t stop himself from watching as she jiggled with each movement. Bent over right in front of him. He gulped as she turned around with a fresh clean towel in her hands.

“Good thing I pack extra. Let’s get you dry. Let’s hope you didn’t get to much water in your ears, nasty ear infection that would be.” She smiled as she throw the dry towel on his head and started drying his hair and face.

Then his eyes where planted on her huge tits that where right in his face. Every time she shook his head she was jiggling them right into his face. If he moved even a inch he would be right in between them. His face planted right into her pillowy cleavage. She could basically smother him. His eyes where wide as he watched them move.

That was until she stopped and big hands slammed down on his shoulder making him jump a little in the chair.

Man hands.

“Don’t worry Princess I got him. I’ll help him dry off and keep a eye on him. Don’t want him walking around with a concussion or anything. Here’s that sunscreen, found it on the floor bored. Maybe you should go see if Sam needs some while I take care of Anthony here.” He slapped his hands down hard on Anthony’s shoulders twice. Reader smiled and nodded before walking over to Sam and offering her some of the sunscreen.

“I’m feeling nice today kid, stop looking at my girlfriends tits and ass or I’ll break your scrawny little knees worse then I broke Demetri’s arm. Clearly we have some things in common and I might just be willing to give you some tips on how to score.”

Anthony looked up at Hawk and nodded.

“ I uhh could do that. What’s your advice?”

[undercoverpena]

iii. file room + accusations

javier peña x dea! f!reader | chapter three of nowhere to run

Summary: Determined to do it better this time, Javier Peña returns to Bogotá to take down the Cali Cartel. With a new promotion, office and team, what he doesn’t expect is the pretty thing outside his office—or why they’re not allowed in the field. chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers, no use of y/n, flirting to the highest level. wordcount: 5.8k an: thank you for your patience, none of this chapter existed three days ago, but i think it was necessary for how... spicy the next one will be. as always, a huge thank you to @guyfieriii who let me hammer this idea out with her, and @yeyinde who fills me with absolute confidence to take this on.

“You have fun last night?”

Stirring your cup, you turn your head. “We went for one drink—” 

“Are you fucking Van Ness?” 

You throw the spoon into the sink, glaring—full of poisoned accusation, hoping it stings, hoping it bites. 

Chris has always been a little jealous, and a little bitter. But this side of him, the side grown from the decay of what once was…

“Believe it or not, people of the opposite sex can just be friends.”

“Like we were?” 

You scoff, almost going to grab your coffee when his hand touches your wrist.

“Sorry… that was,” Chris sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“You’re being an asshole.”

“I know.” 

Leaning back on the counter, you stare at him. The man you used to share a bed with, cook with, sleep with—finding yourself unable to recognise him. The same amount you barely were able to recognise yourself these days. 

“Just because we went for a drink, doesn’t mean I fucked him. I don’t fuck people just because they buy me drinks, if anything, I fuck them in spite of buying me things.” 

Lowering his hand, he opens his eyes. “I know… I just…”

You motion to move, hearing his words die as you hold his gaze. “Do us both a favour, Chris, get over us or stop trying to be my friend.”

It was a last-minute decision to get you coffee. 

A thought which nestled until it bloomed and spread itself over all the others. You’d been on his mind, likely put there because of his dreams. 

Javi had become so used to the smoky blend of violence and regret in his nightmares, it caught him by surprise long after he awoke that something good had been trying to form. Something with a sly smile that had slowly been driving him wild and a pair of eyes he saw even when he blinked. 

His bed creaked as he stretched, shoving the leftover hold of sleep from his muscles. 

He turns over how you’d not seemed like yourself yesterday. How quiet you were, how distant. You’d made two visits to his office, both for actual work purposes. He’d thought of asking, of questioning—but each time he’d found himself about to, you had a visitor at your desk. 

As time had ticked on, the night bludgeoning the day, he’d watched as you packed up your things, met by one of the other agents—tall and dark-haired—pulling a short laugh from you. 

He spent the next hour buried in case files just so he wouldn’t focus on the sound. And how he hadn’t pulled that same sound from you all day.

Now, as streams of sunlight flicker through his curtains, he reaches for his lighter and cigarettes. About to light one, a thought appearing and growing—rotting and festering in the empty space he’s carved for you.

Maybe you’re his delayed punishment.

His price to pay for what he did last time he was here. He thinks of you more than he does others—more than he has done with others. 

You are a torture, a thing put here in front of him as something he could have once, and never again. A reminder of it each time you sway into his office. How he’d tasted you, he’d felt your curves and heard your pretty noises. Now only for him to be locked in a prison of his own making because of it.

Because he’s forever interrupted by phone calls, meetings and whatever else life has—and will—throw his way. 

As he takes a drag, the point and thought cements itself further, because Javi doesn’t dream.

He relives nightmares and what-ifs, but he rarely ever dreams. Yet, there you were, smiling, pulling him from a nightmare into something more pleasant he didn’t want to wake from. You who hadn’t even fully formed, a shadow, an outline at best, but you’re there, he can tell. All pretty and sharp-tongued—not that he’s heard dream-you even speak, but he knows. 

Knows about the same amount as he knows he should turn the water in the shower a bit colder. Should let it sting his chest from how icy it is, trying to cage the thoughts of you he shouldn’t have. 

Because there’s a lesson to be learnt about shitting when he’s eating—and he’s already failed it twice. 

So, he lets his chin dip to his chest as water cascades down his neck, letting freezing droplets smother any chance of warmth. Because even if he shouldn’t, even if he couldn’t—technically—you’re in his head. 

Secretly, he blames you. Blames each quick retort you’ve had and each flirtatious sentence which continuously hangs in the air longer than anything else. 

Mainly, he blames you for the things you’re not at fault for. Like your smile, your laugh and the way you tap your pen on the desk when you’re lost in thought. 

That softer smile is the one in last night's dreams. Embedding itself firmly in the few hours he’s managed to catch in a while. The edges of it are genuine, exactly like it was in person—looking as much like it was born and not willed, as he’s seen in the flesh. You owe me a coffee. He thought about it as he lay in his sheets, again when he lit his first cigarette and on repeat in the shower.

It’s why he buys you one—it’s cemented in his thoughts. 

Front and fucking centre. 

By the time he makes it to work, his forehead is slightly slick with sweat. Barely noticeable to most, he supposes, but he feels it. His determination to catch you before the rest filter in, able to confidently present you with your inside joke right at your desk. 

It would mean he’s the instigator. It would mean he’d see you taken back, rendered silent for fucking once. 

Because normally, it’s you doing that to him. You and your quick wit make him roll his tongue around his mouth as he tries to control his body. 

Usually, he was in control. He was the one making others stupid over him—it’s different being on the other side. More so when he catches sight of himself in the reflection of the glass door, the smirk large and proud on his face. 

All because of fucking you. 

And then, you’re not at your desk.

His tongue pokes into his cheek as he inwardly kicks himself, heart descending down to his stomach—thumping against nothingness and last night's whiskey. 

He contemplates binning them as he moves past the desks. Throwing it before someone sees him with two coffees and a piece of fruit. Annoyance spreads like a wildfire through him, singeing the edges of muscles and bones. It layers, landing firmly on top of the shit from Cornerstone, the conversation with Stechner and—

He sees you. 

Like the sun which bleeds through clouds on a rainy day; like a torch through thick, sullen darkness. There you are.

Able to see you clearer and clearer on his approach, until he’s peering through his open door, spotting you on your knees, head bent. There’s an array of paper around you, placed out in a semi-circle on his office floor, an empty file box discarded close to the door. You don’t notice him, still fixated on whatever it is that has you in his office. 

You don’t even lift up when he’s at the doorway, casting a shadow over the papers. 

“You’re in early.”

Smirking, he leans against the doorway, watching you shift a paper to the side. Remaining bent over, finger tapping in a rhythmic pattern against a page closest to your hand. 

“And you’re in my office, cariño.”

He expects you to look up, even if just your eyes. You don’t. 

Another notch adding to the enigma that is you. The mystery, the hard-to-read and understand puzzle that is currently on your knees.  

“I needed the space.”

“For?”

That’s when you lift your head, sighing—if only to yourself—before slowly standing. You don’t groan, and don’t let out a noise as you do, shifting your trousers so they fall as they’re supposed to. Then, you’re awkwardly stepping over your pile as you come to stand beside him. 

“Personal project—that for me?” 

You take it before he can confirm it, taking a large gulp of it, filling the air with a groan. A sound which tugs something inside of him, even if your eyes remain fixed on the mess on his floor and not him. 

It’s childish—almost like he was back in school. Staring at the pretty girl until she notices him. But you are pretty, and fuck does he wish you’d notice him. 

“Thanks.” 

Something sinks. 

He’s not sure what, but it’s in his chest. 

Somehow, foolishly, he’d expected a little more from the gesture. The fact you’d been more grateful when he’d returned a pen, than grabbing you coffee. That, and your eyes barely meet his, continuing to turn something over in your mind as you take another sip. 

It’s silent, your silent—outside of the occasional sighs you let escape.  

Realistically, he knows you’re not being your usual self because you’re likely doing your job—something in the short span of time he’s known you, he knows you do well. But, it feeds into that… feeling. The one he woke up with when you’d left. Rejection. 

Something he’s experienced before—been through. Yet, never really learnt how to handle it.

How often are you told no, Peña? Rarely. I can believe that.  You want another drink? Can’t say no, can I?

It rattles him more because it’s you. You who has made him do things like this. He wanted to make you smile, wanted to show you that he fucking listened. 

Even if you confuse him. Bouncing from one minute flirting with him as he tries to be decent, fighting the feeling of the beads of sweat collecting on his collar. The next you’re staring through him as though you’d rather skin him than fuck him. 

He can’t say any of that, not as he massages his inner cheek between his teeth. Eyes staring at the pages, noticing the manilla case files poking out underneath all the stark white papers. 

He’s itching to get closer. To read the number on the side strips, see what it is that has stolen your attention. 

Instead, he nudges you. Watching as you lift your chin in his direction. Your eyes are the last to rise from the floor. Your face all blank and expressionless—appears as if you’re awaiting instruction from him for something. He sees the circles under your eyes, the rest of your face devoid of anything he can dissect. It almost feels as if he’s trying to read the wall, rather than a person who has made him copious cups of coffee. 

“You need me to move?”

He snorts, if only to himself. “No. But you’re quiet...”

Shooting him a short nod, you offer a forced smile. “Sorry.”

He feels something knot, something which makes it hard to take a step back and turn away from you. Something urging him to push, to keep standing there, even if he would get more from the water cooler.

“Hey… you good?” 

You eye him, brows narrowing ever so slightly. “Yes. Of course...” 

He nods. “Good. Okay, good.”

You turn more to face him, frowning as you try but find yourself unable to discern whatever it is you’re looking for—not that he knows what you’re searching for. 

He’s confused, prickled—tense. But nothing else. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t be or something?” 

You seem upset. Distracted. 

That’s what he wants to say. Wants to try and unpick the reason for your sharper gaze, raised shoulders and the almost box of files on his office floor.

Likely would if it didn’t allow you to know that he watches you, even through the blinds. That he knows these little things, the small shifts in your otherwise carefully constructed set of walls and barriers to keep everyone out. 

“I expected you to give me more shit… about the fruit, the coffee. Be difficult.”

You smirk, leaning as you run the cup under your nose. “I can be difficult if you need me to be, sir.” 

Your smile slowly spreads, more teeth than you’ve shown—more laid-back. It stretches from your cheeks to your eyes. His tongue runs across the front of his teeth, watching it, how it illuminates and lights every part of you. 

“Somehow, I bet you can be.”

Shrugging, you take a sip from the coffee again—eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the taste. 

He did good, he thinks. Knowing you likely won’t admit it, acknowledge it—

“This is good…”

He feels his brow rise, wiping his bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“Almost as good as you… sir.”

You watch him, make sure it lands. Watch it spread. Likely enjoying the show too. He can’t hide it, not quick enough to mask it. Not that he really puts much effort into trying.

It’s futile, a waste of energy and time.

He’s even sure you hear him inhale and whisper the word fuck as your phone rings.

“I’ll tidy this up in a minute, excuse me.”

Then you’re gone. Leaving him with your words and perfume, hearing the distinct sweet and, most innocent voice. 

A voice which didn’t fit or follow what you had just said. 

He’d never thought Messina’s job looked fun, but he never realised how unbearable it must have been. 

Javi’s head throbs from it. 

All of it. The meetings about meetings, the bureaucracy which wraps ropes around his throat and the fact—even if he’s not in the room—he can feel Stechner breathing down his neck. 

Something pulses more so when he meets your smirk-smile. The one he was robbed of enjoying yesterday, but today has got it in plenty. He puts it down to the coffee, not the possibility he heard you went out for a drink with another agent last night. 

Fresh air washes over him as he steps out of the building. The stuffy boardroom air uncurling itself from his suit as the grey, cloudy day hangs around him. Normally, he finds the humidity tiresome, but today it greets him like a friend. A better friend than pompous air breathed by men who want an easy win, than fight the actual fight that’s necessary. 

It’s habit again now, lighting a cigarette, even if he had tried to quit. His fingers hover the cigarette close to his lips, watching the end sparkle with orange and yellow as he releases his shoulders from around his ears. 

Bad habit, that.  So are you. You don’t mean that, sir. 

Taking the longest drag, he lets it fill his lungs. 

Hearing your voice call him sir, it is always faintly there—a callback, a reminder. A tease. 

He didn’t mean it, you’d been right. Didn’t mean it so much at all. Even if you were bad and a habit, you weren’t a bad habit.

Javi kept thinking about that night, and the ones he could have enjoyed after. Thoughts of taking you back to his and seeing how many times he can make you call his name; whether you’d beg him in that same way, please, Javi, please. 

It’s taken all of his strength not to act on it. 

Something to prove fizzing inside of him, blending with the taste and scent of tobacco which bleed across his senses. It slowly undoes each tendril of stress, unknotting each tense muscle, allowing the briefest second of calm—of peace—to wash over him. 

Sex did that too. 

Sex, whiskey and smokes did it all together. A perfect blend—one which had kept him going for longer than he cared to admit before. 

He didn’t smoke the night he fucked you. Hadn’t even realised he hadn’t until he smoked this one—acknowledging there’s a deeper meaning there, but unwilling to unfold it.

No good came from digging inside himself, not now. Not when his walls are painted in red shame and bitter regrets. 

He’d thought things were easier then. 

Before, when he didn’t have people answering to him, and he had a partner. He had a person to share a desk space with. Now, he’s behind glass—placed on a mantle, eyes looking up to him when they should be looking down. The pressure nipping at him, the smoke swirling up to his nose as he hovers the cigarette on his lip.

It’s at the last minute he catches the blonde woman coming closer, more into his view. Right in his peripheral. “Can I get one of those?”

Her non-embassy attire catches him off guard, before she introduces herself. Eyes raking up and down her, unsure where he knows her from—where he’d place her. Something, that voice he continuously ignores, firing and chirping, but he does what he always does. 

Javi should have known. He’s trained to be better. Expected to do better. 

Churning her name, the newspaper she works for in his head as he lets his smoke dangling from his lip. Already waiting, expecting. She was a reporter, she’d have questions. More than asking him for a cigarette and more than a simple chat about the weather. 

Then it falls from her tongue. Acidic, purposefully chosen to knock him—to bother him.

It does. Especially because she casually throws them his way. Him left feeling them figuratively land and bruise as she did. Each accusation not spoken, feels sharper and more painful than the previous, his cigarette doing nothing to stoke the rising shame and annoyance. 

If anything, it just covers it in tobacco smoke and a bitter taste. 

“Have a nice day—”

“Have you heard much about the Cali accident? Four more people dead. Children. Dozens more sick.”

The reporter's words swirl, peck and dig into him further. His sharp response is not close to the one he wants to give: I cannot get involved. His place here is tied securely to his behaviour. One wrong step, one misfortune, and he’s sure he’ll be back in Texas. Having accomplished nothing, once again.

“Looks like you said, it was an accident.”

The lie falls from him before he can pull it back. Knowing she doesn’t believe him—he doesn’t even believe himself. 

She snorts, half-laughing in mockery. “By the end of the day, it will be. No matter what the truth is.” 

The itch inside of him worsens when she turns from him. Fingers rolling against his palm, making him wish he’d finished his cigarette irrespective of the questioning and insinuations. The imaginary rope that ties his hands behind his back, constricting, stinging. 

His palm meets his forehead, rubbing against it as he heads in. Feet carrying him, body moving—

He needs you.

You who he could vent to, ask, merely fucking speak to. You who’d likely see through his bullshit and know something is wrong. You who he suspects understands, for reasons not highlighted in your report or in any file. Who stared into his eyes in that bar and made him wonder what hell you’d been through for the vengeance to live so prominently in your eyes. 

He comes to a stop, blinking as he lands on you, glaring into Feistl. 

The two of you huddled close, engaged in a discussion that didn’t look all too friendly. Your eyes gave it away, the forced smile confirming it. So much of your thoughts flitted across your face when you weren’t careful—and usually, you were careful. 

That’s something he learnt quickly. That you’re secretive, cautious, meticulous. 

When he blinks, he watches you say something before walking away before it’s fully landed. His jaw tightens, almost cracks. Eyes fixed on the back of the other agent, unable to tear his eyes away, watching you throw something in the sink, mutter something and storm in the other direction. 

He shouldn’t care. 

He’d learnt to avoid problems between couples with Connie and Murphy. He supposes it’s even more important to stay out of it when they were exes. Ones who worked closely with one another, shared office space and breathed the same air. 

He does care. 

It’s the only reason why he waits, almost reaching his office before he turns on his heels and heads in the direction you’ve gone. 

With each step, he swipes his index finger over the pad of his thumb, unsure what he’s going to say. What he’s going to do. Thrumming with annoyance from the outside; protectiveness swirling with a bunch of other unresolved feelings inside of him. 

It makes no sense—none of it. Yet the door squeals in protest as he shoves it open. 

Dropping your hand from your face, your eyes greet him instantly—the door barely back in its frame before you’ve hidden how wide and surprised they were. 

He doesn’t speak, but neither do you. 

And then, slowly—as though they were the physical embodiment of your walls coming down—your arms folded and your eyes narrowed. All he did was simply fucking stare, all he could do. 

There’s nothing he can say. Not that would make any sense—not to him, or to you. So, he allows the heaviness of the conversation outside and the annoyance that had grown in its place, to slowly dissipate as he stares and breathes, letting you do the same.

The tension thickens. Almost softly simmering between the two of you.

There’s no music thrumming this time, no alcohol to blame for the kinder expressions and wider grins. He just focuses on trying not to pay attention to it, but in the smaller space, it’s harder to ignore. It sits there grinning with its shiny teeth, its mocking behaviour taunting him, as he wonders if it’s the same for you. 

And then, you smile as if you can read his thoughts. It's instant, the way it smothers other emotions. Dilutes them, makes his tongue run across his teeth as he lets the stress melt from his shoulders and back. 

“I know what you’re gonna say?”

Looking at the floor, you snort. “I doubt that.”

“It’s none of my fucking business, right?” he adds, your eyes staring at him through your brows. “But, it looked heavy and I needed to ask—wanted to ask.”

“I’m fine.”

He gnaws at other words. Deciding quickly against them, swallowing them back, and switching to the next set of things he could say. 

“You told me you’d take the mountain of shit for me—hold the walls up. Remember?”

“Faintly.”

Lie, he thinks. It flutters across your face, the acknowledgement, how easily you’re able to recall it. He takes that as his invitation. Stepping closer, he watches as you unfold your arms.

“Who does that for you, cariño?” 

Your mouth—so usually the quicker one out of the two of you—clamps shut. Any quick remark fizzling into nothing as your chest rises and falls significantly, likely all from a silent sigh. 

“I promise I’m—“

“Don’t lie,” Javi adds, interrupting you. “Not to me.” 

Please, he thinks. But, he keeps that silent request to himself—even if it’s likely he’s spelling it with his eyes, his softer expression. 

You shift, eyes fluctuating between softening and sharpening. As if unsure whether to let him in—and be honest, trusting—or ruin him. He just hopes it's the former. Feeling it—that something which thrums in the air whenever he’s around you. The thing he’d rather bury than confront. 

Even if he likes being near you. Likes how you make him coffee, visit his office and tell him things he already knows. Just to be near you. To make sure you’re okay because you so often make sure he is. 

Your eyes narrow. “What’s happened?”

“What?”

Tilting your head, you sigh. “You went out for a smoke—“

“How’d you kn—“

Smirking, you lick your lips. “You’re not the only one with a pair of eyes, Peña. What. Happened?” Blowing out air, you shake your head. “I’m not stupid—”

“—I don’t think you’re—”

“And, you want me to tell you things, and you can’t even tell me what happened outside to make you this riled up.” 

He lets you have that one. Nodding gently, running his hands through his hair as he contemplates it—telling you. Informing you of it all. How Martínez doesn’t trust him, that the reporter outside…

Looking up, he stares at you. 

You are the face of ruination. Your eyes able and powerful enough to bring him to his knees. Already unspooling him, having dug under a layer he’s never allowed many others.

So he decides against sharing, instead smirking.

Not for reasons such as him not trusting you, but because this isn’t about him. It was always about him. You made it about him, whenever you fucking could, just like it had been before. Back when he had Steve, when he made catching Escobar about him. When he convinced himself he was doing what was right. 

He’d do it again—parts of it, anyway. But he still wanted this to be different, to be better, to be—

“How y’sleeping?” 

You blink, almost wincing from surprise. “Fine.” “Don’t lie.”

“How do you know I’m not sleeping?” 

Swiping his thumb across his bottom lip, he shrugs. “Because I know I don’t. More here, than I did in Texas. But… not like before. Nothing close to the hours I got before Escobar.” 

He watches your eyes widen at his name. The one he so rarely says, even when questioned. 

The one which makes a muscle in his chest tighten when he hears the name, fighting to not let the guilt and shame run through his blood at the mere mention. 

“I know I have no idea what you went through. But, I’d get it—try to, at least.”

It flashes like a rainstorm over your face. The heaviness of the clouds and then the downpour—and before he can get an umbrella out, it’s over. Javi isn’t quick enough to work out each expression. Not sure if he’s miles off or so close to the thing unravelling you, that he’s rendered you silent. 

You roll your lips, before whispering, “I don’t sleep either.” 

He blinks, staring at you as you try to force a smile and he moves closer. 

Like the two of you are being drawn together, pulled. It is all another dance, one without music, a beat or lyrics, and yet, you lift your hand to his cheek. Some words forming, that never appear. A different expression cracked over the former, one that he wasn’t sure he'd seen before. 

He tries to paint it, carve it into a space so he can unpick its meaning later—knowing how quick you are to wipe your canvas clean. But, your eyes flick over him, looking for something as he slides a hand over your hip, feeling you hunting. He feels the warmth stroke from his eyes to his lips, and back again. 

The thread, the one which had begun being sewn between the seats at the bar, was tightening and it tugged the two of you closer and closer, until he felt you—your lips. 

You’re kissing him. 

Hands pressed on both sides of his cheeks as you brought his mouth down to yours. Devastating him, ruining him all over again. Everything about you is intense. Consuming. Spanning over him and tugging him under in thick waves he’s not sure where they came from. 

All he can focus on is how good it feels to kiss you again. 

How soft your lips are, how he didn’t take the time to appreciate it before. How today you’re a mix of sugary lips and a bitter coffee tongue. 

He guides you, moving you behind the shelves—more out of view, the softest huff escaping your lips when your back meets the shelving. One he captures and stores, holding it closely as he pulls you tighter against him. Almost desperately so. You scorch yourself against him, hoping to leave something on him you’ll be able to see—something he welcomes. Some proof that you’re not too far out of reach as he groans at the sensation of your nails scraping through his hair and your mouth burning against his. 

It’s messy, disorientating—but, so are you. 

His tongue licking up into your mouth, hearing the discernible sound of a moan smothered by both your mouths as the shelving creeks when your spine presses against it. 

It’s natural, well-versed—like it was in his place. His thigh slotting between both your legs, hearing his name leave your lips in a whimper, all wrapped inside of a groan that has been born somewhere deep in your throat. 

Then it turns slower, gentle, languid. His head swimming in you, and only you. A hand up your spine curling you closer; your hand sliding from his hair and cheek to his neck. 

“Cariñ—“

The squeal of the door yanks the two of you apart.

His heart hammers, fucking thunders as your back flattens to the shelves, his feet making him step back—hidden behind more shelving. 

Someone from the doorway yells your name, not a voice he’s familiar with. 

They’re sharp, gruff, far enough away to not know, but if they stepped in the room… 

Javi is sure anyone could walk in and they’d feel the tension. More so convinced when he glances down your frame, seeing buttons undone and exposed, soft, kissable skin.

You must feel it. The way he looks at you. Your mouth shouting back you’d be there in a minute as nervous, shaky fingers try to button yourself.

In typical fashion, you shoot a sharp glare at him. One he’d already been expecting. One he knows you don’t mean. 

They’re not like the ones he endured when he first met you. It wasn’t the glare that made him almost beg for forgiveness. This glare was a ‘we almost got caught, idiot’ stare. One he feels no guilt about as he waits in your silence, hearing the door once again close. 

“We can’t do this.”

He moves, stepping back in front of you, leaning both hands on the shelves—caging you in, keeping you close. Not allowing you to wriggle away. “Well, we can’t do this here.”

It crosses his mind it could be too much. He could be being too much.

That it was fine at the bar, at his place. That it’s fine with the flirting, but anything more is overstepping. Then Javi sees the glint—the soft twitch of your right lip before he feels hands slide around his neck. Keeping him as close as he’s keeping you. 

“Peña.” 

“Cariño.”

You smirk, fingers sliding down his chest, not breaking eye contact with him. “Thought you were trying to be decent.” 

“Told you I was doing a poor job of it.” 

It’s less a smirk, and more a smile now. Soft on the edges, almost warm. Something he wishes to bottle. If only to keep the feeling he has bubbling in his chest when he spots it. When you allow him to see past curled lips and sharper words. 

“Let me take you for a drink.” 

You smile, playing with his tie. “You don’t have to buy me a drink to fuck me. This isn’t transactional. You don’t have to find a way to pay me to be around you.” Your eyes flip up, cutting into his, letting his thoughts run wild as you slowly roll your lips. “Plus, I want to.”

“Want to what?”

You trace your bottom lip with your tongue. “Fuck you.” 

Letting go of his tie, you wink. 

“I did tell you earlier, you’re more than half-good. Are you really that surprised I’d want another round with you?” 

Moving from him, walking around the files until he hears the door squeal and slams back into place. Slowly raising his hand, massaging his forehead. 

Staying in the file room for an impossibly long-time. An amount appropriate to how hard you’d gotten him, to how long it took him to will it away with thoughts of case file boxes and catching narcos. 

It’s hours until he gets a sight of you, watching you poking your head in his doorway. The afternoon having firmly gone, blanketed instead by the night. 

“Hey,” you say, leaning against the frame.

You look worn, more tired. Whatever had stolen you from your desk seemingly having taken the last shreds of caffeine and willpower you had been running on. 

He also notices you’re wearing your coat, bag already in hand. He doubted it was an invite to leave with you. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to go try and grab that thing you mentioned.”

Leaning back into his chair, he lets his brow rise. Feeling it curl up his face as your smile seeps into your cheeks and eyes. 

“Sleep, Peña, I’m going to go try and get some sleep.”

“Afraid you’d enjoy your tenth cup of coffee or something?” 

Licking your lips, you roll your eyes. “Eleventh. I had the tenth after… we organised the file room.”

“That’s what we’re calling it?” 

Shaking your head, he smiles. 

Natural, easy. Like it’s the most normal thing Javier Peña can do, when he never fucking does it. When it’s been so long since the last time, he can’t actually find a time with much ease. 

“We’re okay, aren’t we?” 

Leaning on his elbows, digging them into the paper covering the wood, he has to nod. “Thought that was my line.”

There are plenty of women he’s had a nice time with, plenty that he’s had a great time with. Some he’s liked going back for more, others he never has. But it’s rare he has a good time when both sets of clothes are on. Rare when it’s in an environment like this, flooded in fluorescence and weighed down by expectations. 

Smiling, he taps his desk. “We’re good, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Peña… you should…” you begin to say, standing a little taller as you glance at his desk, slowly pointing to something near the top of the pile. “He’s a good agent. Thorough. Just take a look at what he’s done. Ch—Feistl, he wants to do a good job. He cares a lot, too. So, just consider it… even if you do so because I make you coffee and am extra nice to you.”

He stares, confusion wrapping around words he won’t speak. Because he’s not sure how someone can be so nice about a person they keep bickering with only earlier. A person he’s pretty sure you called an asshole if his lip reading was up to scratch. 

“If you get some sleep, I’ll look over it, sure,” he smirks. 

You nod, lifting up from the doorframe—he expects you to leave, but you linger.

Pretty eyes drink him in, looking close to how they did in the file room, and it takes all of his willpower to not cross the room and kiss you again. It would be easier too, to stop fighting and give in. 

But he doesn’t, afraid if he does, it would be the last time. Somehow, unsure if he could allow himself to have nice things, never mind actually having them. 

Glueing his feet to the ground, he feels you break eye contact. Allowing him to capture his full breath. 

“Try to get some yourself—sleep that is. Maybe we can be less difficult with one another that way.” 

He laughs, watching you turn on your heels as he leans to grab the file. Listening to your shoes getting quieter, until he’s left with his thoughts and the low mumble of the television.

He spots your handwriting first, words left on your usual lined paper so similar to the ones you’ve just spoken. Then he opens it, finding tabs along certain pages—ones he knows aren’t there from Feistl but you. 

It’s only as he reads, as he goes between messy writing and typed-up words, does he see what you mean. Does he begin to see the beginning of something. 

It turns the cogs, and lets them twist—something forming until he’s standing. 

Then the television catches his eye, hand quick to grab the remote as he turns it up. He feels his stomach drop, parts of the formed idea beginning to solidify as other parts begin to crumble. 

…After a thorough investigation, we’ve reached the conclusion that the Yumbo chemical exposure was caused by a faulty valve in a natural gas line in the area…

chapter four ->

[garlimcbread]

write me a fic where like everyone lived but over time the gang all moved out of Tulsa and stopped talking as much- and how those idiots reunited and what was it like?

UGHHHH I LOVE HOW YOU THINK POOKIE

I am NOT good at writing fics so this is probably gonna be either bad or ooc (probably both)

Ponyboy leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head and groaning at the feeling of his back popping. He's really gotta stop hunching over his desk like this.

He surveys his work so far. The book is nowhere near done, and he's still gotta edit it, but he's happy with his progress.

As he's putting his laptop away, the phone on his desk rings. He groans, assuming its the publishing house asking about his progress again. He picks it up regardless.

"Hello?"

"Pony?"

"Soda?"

Pony hasn't heard from either of his brothers in a while. It's not that they're on bad terms, it's just that none of them have reached out, at least not to Ponyboy.

"Hey Pony. Uh- Johnny's coming in next week. I know this is last minute, but do ya' wanna come over? We're all gonna be there."

What, did Soda think Ponyboy wanted nothing to do with any of them? Maybe he is as dumb as he says he is.

"Course, Soda. Where? The old house?"

"Yeah. Darry's just as stubborn as he's always been, didn't wanna get out."

They both laugh. Pony wonders why he hadn't reached out before now.

"I'll be there. Even Dally'll be there?"

"Yup. I'm just as shocked, but I think Dally'd do anything for Johnny."

Dally had moved back to New York shortly after he'd turned 18. Up state. He didn't want anything to do with New York City. Last Ponyboy heard, he was going to Watertown.

Pony had never heard of it, but it's not like he could convince Dally not to do something. Nobody could, except for Johnny.

Dally had wanted to move to Rochester, but Johnny's mom had moved there shortly before, and Johnny didn't wanna run into her while visiting Dally.

"Right. I'll get on a plane as fast as I can."

"Alright, Cali-boy."

Pony snorts. "Don't call me that."

The line goes dead, indicating Soda had hung up. Pony puts the phone back on the receiver.

The phone ringing cuts through the air. Pony groans. That's definitely the publishing house now.

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

Ponyboy didn't think he'd be flying places so soon. Sure, he'd had to travel for those book signings last month, but he usually only does those every couple years since they take a lot out of him.

As he grabs his luggage from the overhead bin and shuffles out of the plane with the crowd, trying to avoid being recognized even if he's in Oklahoma, he can't help but feel excited.

He hasn't seen the gang in years. Dally had moved out the second he could, as did Steve.

Two-Bit stayed with his mama for a couple more years after that until she got fed up with him doing nothing but drink all day and kicked him out.

Johnny moved out as soon as he could, and Ponyboy doesn't blame him. His dad had stayed in town afterall, even after Johnny's mom left to live closer to her family.

Ponyboy left before Sodapop did, even though he's younger. Darry hadn't left, apparently.

Ponyboy was just gonna grab a rental car and head out to Tulsa, but he gets absolutely body slammed by someone as soon as he's out in the main lobby. Pony shrieks and starts to fight the unknown person off, until he hears them laugh.

"Sodapop Curtis!" He scolds Soda. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I can't help it! I was just so excited to see you!"

Ponyboy huffs, sitting up as Soda gets off him.

"Help me up, asshole."

Soda snickers and does as Ponyboy asked him to.

"You got everything? I'll drive you."

"Yeah, I got everything."

Sodapop smiles at him. Ponyboy can't help but smile back, regardless of how annoyed he is.

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

When Ponyboy gets through the door he's already being tackled again.

"Ponyboy!"

"Keith!" He squawks, "Get off!"

Sodapop laughs as he steps around them. "You're awful popular today, Pony."

Darry yanks Two-Bit off him, tossing him on the couch right on top of Steve. Two-Bit continues to cackle even as Steve shouts at him and Darry.

"Sorry, Pony. I've been tryin' to reel him in." Darry helps Pony up off the floor.

"It's alright, Darry. I know you've probably got you hands full with him and Dal and Soda."

"Dal ain't here yet, Pone," Johnny pipes up. He'd been so quiet Ponyboy hadn't even noticed him there.

Pony grins, going in for a hug. "Hey, Johnny."

Johnny smiles back, hugging Ponyboy tight. Jesus, the guy's gotten tall. "Hey, Pony. How you been? How's Cali?"

Pony shrugs. "Well, it's Cali." Ponyboy pulls away from Johnny, but keeps him within arms reach by settling his hands on Johnny's shoulders. "How's Mexico?"

"Fine, better than stayin' with my old man."

Johnny had moved in with his dad's side of the family in Mexico. They're nicer than him, which makes Ponyboy wonder what the hell happened to that man to make him so bitter.

"Ain't that the truth? How long are you stayin'?"

"Just a week, then my visa runs out. Wish I could stay longer," Johnny sighs.

"Wish I could too. Where's Dally?"

"Probably still on the plane. I think it takes longer to get here from Watertown than Los Angeles."

"It does," Pony confirms, "Only took me three hours to get here."

Johnny pulls Pony into a hug again. "Still too long, I think," He mumbles into Pony's shoulder.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes, patting Johnny's back. "Yeah, yeah."

✧･ﾟ: *━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━*:･ﾟ✧

Dally comes through the door an hour after everyone gets settled. Johnny hops right off the couch to greet Dally with a hug.

Dally doesn't push him back, but only pats his back. "Glory, kid. You got tall. What're they puttin' in the water down there?"

"Missed you, Dal."

"Missed you too, Johnnycake." Dally pats him on the back one more time, and then gently pushes Johnny back.

"How's Watertown?"

"Fine. Ain't like New York City, that's for sure."

"Well, that's good." Johnny smiles.

"Kinda. It's kinda boring, too."

Johnny snickers. "Good to see you haven't changed much, Dal."

"You ain't changed either, Johnnycake." Dally grins.

Johnny rolls his eyes. "Oh, I've changed plenty, Dal."

"Agree to disagree. Where's Cali-boy?"

"Quit callin' me that!" Pony shouts from his old bedroom. Darry had told him he could set up there for the week.

"Well, there he is." Johnny smiles.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Harlowchella

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Requested by: the treacherous twin @harlowsbby 💖

Liked by jackharlow, saweetie, urbanwyatt, jessicakelce, blancahood, estgee, champagnepapi, lolabrooke, and 3,962,051 others

y/ninsta: guess where we're on our way to? 👀

saweetie: the matching bracelets have me MELTING 😭

y/ninsta: saweetie hubby got them for all five of us

jackharlow: two of my favorite girls. daddy loves you both

y/ninsta: jackharlow lmao shut up

jackharlow: y/ninsta Ivy, Axel, and Autumn weren't the only ones calling me daddy last night, don't act brand new smh

quiiso: here they asses fucking go

urbanwyatt: quiiso same shit, different day lmao

y/ninsta: jackharlow can you be serious for once in your life please? smh

jackharlow: I can literally count on one hand how many times I've been serious, when I asked you to be my girlfriend, when I asked you to marry me, when we got married, and when you made me a father. other than that... nope.

y/ninsta: yall see what I have to deal with? smh

jessicakelce: and I can vouch for that, jackharlow been wild since high school and following y/ninsta around like a lost puppy

jackharlow: jessicakelce and?!? yall not going to get on me for simping over my wife

druski2funny: where yall goin?!?

y/ninsta: I'm going going back back to Cali Cali

allthingsy/n: aww to support her mans as he performs at coachella! we love a supportive couple

jackandy/naremyparents: can't wait until y/n starts performing again, we miss her!

jackharlowsource: jackandy/naremyparents agreed! and the only time we got a little performance was her diss track to dani and drama and that was months ago

allthingsy/n: oh I forgot about those lying ass bitches smh like she really cut them both off and doesn't mention anything about them which I get because I can imagine that it still hurts. her and dani were inseparable

jackandy/naremyparents: but moving on! still can't believe that their someone else's parents other than mine 😭😭😭

jackharlowsource: I wonder if Jack will bring her out on stage, he needs to do it for the Harlow stans because we are DESPERATE to see her

jackharlow: 👀

jackharlowsource: what those eyes mean sir? you planning something? SPILL IT!

Liked by y/ninsta, jackharlow, urbanwyatt, blancahood, softtcurse, jackharlowsource, traviskelce, calumhood, privategarden, and 1,003,489 others

jessicakelce: she said I could say something about it so here goes! here supporting our baby at her first performance since becoming a momma to three beautiful angels. we are so so proud of you and can't wait to see you kill it on stage tomorrow 💕

jackandy/naremyparents: THEY'RE BOTH PERFORMING!?!?!?

allthingsy/n: I'm so excited that I'M ABOUT TO THROW UP

jackharlowsource: IT'S HAPPENING! THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL! I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL! JACK AND Y/N ARE BOTH PERFORMING AT COACHELLA!!!!

y/ninsta: thank yall for being here with me, just like in high school some things never change. been the realest since day one and I'm so happy we're reunited again.

blancahood: y/ninsta wouldn't have it any other way, you know we always got your back, but for now... SHOTS!

y/ninsta: blancahood jackharlow has the babies soooo pass them my way!

jackharlow: yall better not get my wife drunk

jessicakelce: jackharlow you worry too much! we'll bring her back in one piece! we know better because we cannot leave you in charge with three babies by yourself so I know privategarden is there at the hotel helping your ass. you would fall apart without your wife

jackharlow: jessicakelce I'm tired of you always calling me out

urbanwyatt: of course we're here and jackharlow is trying not to lose his mind without her. I'm getting flashbacks from when she went on that girls trip

yungskylark: urbanwyatt DO NOT BRING UP DARK TIMES

neelamthadhani: yeah because I thought we were all going to die

quiiso: and the fact that neelamthadhani bought jack a plane ticket and was like please go see your wife so you can stop getting on everyone else's nerves 😭

shloob_: oh shit and remember when y/ninsta spotted him at the beach house?!? jack was like 'hey babe! funny running into you here'

2forwoyne: lmaooo her ass was PISSED

normani: we were all thoroughly confused lmao and y/n was just looking at him in disbelief before he proceeded to take her upstairs and fuck her brains out.

theestallion: typical Harlow behavior

jackharlow: that was in the past and yall need to let it go smh

2forwoyne: jackharlow but how you're acting tonight isn't because once again we feel like we're about to die and she's only 20 minutes away

y/ninsta: aww do my babies miss me?

jackharlow: YES I MISS YOU, HURRY UP AND COME BACK

y/ninsta: jackharlow not you, the triplets!

jackharlow: y/ninsta YOUR BIG BABY MISSES YOU AND I NEED SOME ATTENTION

jessicakelce: jackharlow YOU GET HER ALL THE TIME, CAN'T WE HAVE HER FOR ONE DAMN NIGHT?!

jackharlow: jessicakelce no.

jessicakelce: 🙄

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, lolabrooke, champagnepapi, nlechoppa, estgee, geazy, privategarden, 2forwoyne, and 4,754,092 others

y/ninsta: yall ready for Harlowchella? Because me and hubby jackharlow ready to step on yall fucking necks

jackharlowsource: WE'RE READY SIS! I GOT MY SNACKS AND I'M READY TO SHAKE MY ASS!

jackharlow: my favorite position to have you in to fuck that throat of yours

y/ninsta: JACKMAN, PLEASE 😭

jackharlow: y/ninsta what I say?!? wait until both of our sets are over so you can get this work

urbanwyatt: so that means I'll be on babysitting duty again tonight smh

jackharlow: urbanwyatt for just a few hours and then we'll come and get them

y/ninsta: jackharlow I literally cannot take your fucking ass anywhere because you don't know how to act

2forwoyne: I second this

urbanwyatt: he hasn't known how to act around her since we were fourteen

claybornharlow: y/ninsta little baby has arrived

jackharlow: claybornharlow good, we got another baby sitter so I can hit the back of her throat for a longer period of time

sza: jack please lmaoooooo

y/ninsta: claybornharlow hiiii little baby, Autumn was missing you. she saw your picture and all she kept trying to say for the rest of the day was your name. it came out as Tay, but I obviously knew what she meant lol

claybornharlow: y/ninsta my little babies miss me jackharlow how your kids love me more than you tho?

jackharlow: claybornharlow imma kick your ass but who is currently cuddled up on me? AUTUMN. she not thinking about you

claybornharlow: jackharlow once she sees me, you'll be an afterthought

jackharlow: y/ninsta get him before I do

y/ninsta: jackharlow claybornharlow will you two behave?!

druski2funny: this man doesn't let up but ummm y/ninsta I can take you off his hands any time

y/ninsta: druski2funny aren't yall life partners? at least you were convinced that you two were

jackharlow: no me and druski broke up, jaysontatum is my life partner now

druski2funny: jackharlow but you were the one out here cheating!

jackharlow: druski2funny with who?! my actual wife who has my last name? make it make sense

lilnasx: druski2funny give it up already

dualipa: come sit on my face please

jackharlow: dualipa only face she's sitting on is mine, you know better

Liked by y/ninsta, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, generationnow, champagnepapi, jaysontatum, quiiso, 2forwoyne, and 6,903,461 others

jackharlow: Harlowchella Part 1 with yours truly

y/ninsta: absolutely killed it baby, so proud of you! and so were our babies! they saw you and couldn't stop smiling. love you smush.

jackandy/naremyparents: WHO CUTTING ONIONS UP IN HERE?! 😭

saweetie: okay little brother, I see you

jackharlow: y/ninsta love you more than you know

y/ninsta: jackharlow but not more than I love you

2forwoyne: OKAY ENOUGH, WE GET IT. YALL LOVE EACH OTHER.

y/ninsta: 2fo is just mad because I didn't get a chance to make him a pound cake last weekend

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta because jackharlow was too busy eating your cakes

urbandjack24: lmaoooo AYE YO!

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and what about it?!

jackharlow: Bon Appetit 😏😏😏😏

softtcurse: y/ninsta you better watch it before he impregnates you again lmao

y/ninsta: softtcurse HE BETTER NOT

jackharlow: y/ninsta imma put 5 in you this time so we can get to 8 and then we're done

y/ninsta: jackharlow WHO THE FUCK IS CARRYING FIVE AT ONE TIME? I CARRIED THREE AND THAT WAS ENOUGH. GET SOMEBODY ELSE TO DO IT. (but if you get someone else pregnant imma hurt you)

jackharlow: you'll look so gorgeous though and you know I'm not getting anyone else pregnant but you

y/ninsta: jackharlow and won't be able to walk. absolutely not. I could barely get around with three. I'm good.

jackharlow: y/ninsta fine, how about twins this time?

y/ninsta: jackharlow NO MULTIPLES

normani: you said that last time and ended up having triplets, make it make sense

jackandy/naremyparents: she was a baddie pregnant though, not that she wasn't already but pregnant y/n will forever have me in a chokehold

dualipa: make me a step mommy again

y/ninsta: WHY THE HELL DO YALL WANT ME TO HAVE ANOTHER BIG HEADED CHILD THAT LOOKS LIKE JACK AGAIN?! I JUST HAD THREE! ARE YALL HOES NOT ENTERTAINED ENOUGH?

jackharlow: outta pocket wifey and my head is not that big, I'll show you a big head

jessicakelce: y/ninsta but Ivy looks like you, Axel is a mix of both of you and Autumn looks like Jack but acts like you and I am definitely down to be an aunt again

blancahood: BRB planning the baby shower

y/ninsta: NO NO AND NO

Liked by jackharlow, generationnow, yungmiami, saweetie, jessicakelce, 2forwoyne, blancahood, and 10,869,114 others

y/ninsta: full circle moment and I just have to say how proud that I am of myself. the little girl from the southside of atlanta made it to coachella. I never thought in a milliion years that this would be my life, but here we are. fine ass husband, three adorable babies, the greatest parents on the face of this earth, and best friends who always want to see me win. to my beautiful fans, thank you, thank you, thank you, now let me finish before I start to cry 💖

Your girl has now officially returned

saweetie: not your ass having me up here getting teary eyed

saweetie: I love you so very much and it was only right for me to give you your flowers. I am always going to be here for you and I always want to see you win. my best friend is the SHIT!

y/ninsta: saweetie and here come the tears 😭😭😭

jackharlow: my baby girl, killing it like always. proud to be your husband.

y/ninsta: jackharlow proud to be your wife.

2forwoyne: our queen has OFFICIALLY returned!

urbandjack24: TRIPLETS WHERE?!? YALL SEE THAT BODY?!

jackandy/naremyparents: SHE FUCKING ATE AND LEFT NO GOT DAMN CRUMBS YASSSS MRS. HARLOW FUCK.IT.UPPPPPP!!

lilnasx: my baby did that!

allthingsy/n: HARLOWCHELLA!!!!!!!!!!!

druski2funny: soooo you gonna twerk on me like that?

jackharlow: druski2funny you just had to say something outta pocket. cut the fucking shit now.

claybornharlow: so proud of you!!

jessicakelce: AHHHHHHH YOU DID THAT MAMAS!

saweetie: and for people who keep asking why some of her closest friends call her Latto or Big Latto is because she always talked about winning at everything in her life and her angel number is 777 which she has a tattoo of. it's short for lottery and she definitely hits the jackpot with everything that she does. like I still remember when we first met and me and jackharlow trying to convince her to release her music, and now look at her!

urbanwyatt: go best friend!! yall better put some respect on her name

2forwoyne: watched her prepare for this for awhile and still get blown away every time I see her perform

yungskylark: and to think that she only wanted to write music, and now look

y/ninsta: PG, my day ones, I love yall bad and yall can always make my heart go boom. so blessed to have yall in my life and don't want to have it any other way. all jokes aside, thank you for being amazing friends to me and always helping to see what's important in life and protecting me.

shloob_: damn, y/n is usually always the one to cry, but now it might be me

blancahood: you kill it every damn time

y/ninsta: saweetie I love you so much bestie and thank you for always being there for me even if I get on your nerves sometimes lmaoooo

saweetie: y/ninsta never leaving your side. we in this shit for life 😘

urbanwyatt: you know we're going to protect you until the end of time

quiiso: we have no hesitations to beat someone's ass over you lmao

y/ninsta: quiiso and that goes both ways lol

Liked by y/ninsta, privategarden, theshaderoom, coachella, champagnepapi, blancahood, urbanwyatt, softtcurse and 9,204,761 others

jackharlow: so proud of my wife. you killed it baby 🥺

She was so nervous and didn't think she was ready, but I assured her that she was. I could tell how much she missed performing and I know how much it meant to her. so what better way for the queen to come back then on the coachella stage?

bottom line: my wife a baddie

Harlowchella was a success

y/ninsta: POOKIE, I LOVE YOU 😭

jackharlow: y/ninsta love you more than anything mamas

jackandy/naremyparents: we love a supportive husband. we stan, we stan, WE STAN

urbanwyatt: and she pushed herself harder than ever to prepare for it and it definitely paid off

jackharlow: she made everyone in the damn house go vegan for three months smh

2forwoyne: oh. what I was eating was vegan?

quiiso: 2forwoyne we know your dumbass don't care what it is as long as she makes it for you

saweetie: and jackharlow was calling me complaining about how he needed for me to sneak real food into the house because he was hungry smh and urbanwyatt too lmao

blancahood: saweetie LMAOOOO my mans was going through it!

jackharlow: saweetie your best friend was starving me smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow I was not! weren't you the one to say eating pussy every day keeps the doctor away? YOU GOT FED PLENTY

sza: well shit

normani: his dumbass would say some shit like that

jackharlow: I plead the fifth

dualipa: feed me next, please. but on a serious note, I'm very proud of you and all that you've accomplished in such a short time.

jackharlow: dualipa she's not feeding you a got damn thing smh

urbanwyatt: yeahhhh vegan isn't for me and I learned the hard way with being her test taster for everything smh

2forwoyne: urbanwyatt then stop being so damn greedy smh

jackharlow: 2forwoyne I KNOW FOR A FACT YOUR ASS ISN'T TALKING SMH you worse than my damn kids. you hear a package opening and your ass SPRINTS to the kitchen on some usain bolt type shit.

yungskylark: I was about to say the same thing lmao

2forwoyne: no 2fo slander will be tolerated smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow look now. I cannot have your big ass head on my chest along with two of your spawns while you hold the other one. YALL ARE HEAVY.

jackharlow: y/ninsta look they wanted you so I had to come through for my babies and we are NOT heavy!

normani: jackharlow I know you've seen how big your head is in the mirror, stop playing

jackharlow: normani CUT IT OUT

y/ninsta: jackharlow I know otherwise, but I vote you to be the one to wake them up so we can get ready for our flight later... at 3 am.

jackharlow: y/ninsta WHAT BY MYSELF?

y/ninsta: jackharlow urbanwyatt will help you. I carried them for 33 weeks, it's literally the least you can do. I'm sleepy.

urbanwyatt: now why am I in it?

jessicakelce: lmaoooo the definition of get somebody else to do it

jackharlow: y/ninsta imma get you back for that, just watch🙄

Taglist:

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@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

[luvhughes43]

dad jamie drysdale au thoughts💐

jamie & mom (the beginning)

him and mom meet in school! they've basically grown up together but dont start dating until theyre in high school

they break up when jamie gets drafted to the ducks

mom goes to ryerson (tmu ? whatever the new name is) and she studies fashion communication

jamie and mom reunite? at moms grad (jamies there to visit friends who went to ryerson)

after they see each other again they start hooking up whenever jamie is in toronto !

pregnancy + relationship

moms working at a small fashion mag as an editor

she gets pregnant right before jamie leaves again for cali (theyre kind of off and on during summers)

its this whole confusing conversation but mom moves in with jamie and they start navigating their life!

it was a pretty smooth pregnancy overall, mom is just very homesick and a little overwhelmed with how fast her life has changed in the past few months after getting pregnant

jamie was very supportive of mom and was very gentle with how they handled the big transition of toronto - cali

theyre both very cautious of each other and very much in love as everyone around them sees

they fall into their summer habits of being together easily and they never really have a conversation about what they are? until one night mom gets really worked up and in her head and questions jamie what they were doing / if theyre ready for this / "what even are we?"

after that conversation its very clear that they both have strong feelings for each other and have for awhile. just super soft and loving!

baby thoughts

baby lila or laini is born during the springtime! april/may ish

once baby is born (moms working from home for the mag in toronto), she quits her job to take care of the baby as her job was very demanding (she does freelance fashion writing while the baby is young. then she gets back into fashion editing when baby is maybe 1?)

baby is very much a daddy's girl and is just super cuddly

jamie def calls her (if her name is lila) lila-bell, his little duckling, his little love... just so many cute little nicknames

baby definitely gets scared / shy in unfamiliar spaces. definitely takes her awhile to warm up to people and settle. she def clings to her parents in social situations

LOVES her uncle trevor tho! tbh, mom and jamie weren't sure how they'd get along considering trevor is so energetic and loud and baby is so quiet and shy but they make it work! baby definitely comes out of her shell when she's with her uncle trev.

thats all for now im going to post a fic for this au soon so request anything that you'd want to see!🫶