#and today is saturday but i have no one to go with and i have such a big pain in my chest just thinking about going in

[littlemissmiller]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒐𝒓

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: (au) (Joel is dad to a 9 year old Sarah) Joel has been your neighbor for some time and you and him have become friendly. In an attempt to spend more time to him (and a desire to show off your summer body) you throw a pool party…

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, fluff, friends to lovers, use of nicknames (babydoll, baby, darling), p in v, ass eating, cowgirl style, fingering, couch sex, porn with a plot

Work count: 4.1k

A/N: hi all! the official first day of summer is today and i got inspired by a pool party i went to with my mans so i just had to write this cute lil smutty, fluffy story. i have a billy request coming and hopefully i get ch 3 of Summer Highs out soon (i know i said it would be soon don’t trust me on a release date which is why i don’t do them) ok that’s it! much love and enjoy ❣︎

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It’s always a hot summer in Texas. It would feel weird if it wasn’t, but this year it feels like the earth is a legit bun in the oven. The whole neighborhood is feeling the heat, so given you have a pool in your backyard, you invite people over for a summer kickoff. Of course it has nothing to do with the fact you are desperate to see Joel Miller in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. From just his work shirts alone, you could see how tight his shirt hugged his muscles. How toned his back was whenever he would sweat through it doing yard work. You would always wave over to him from across the street, occasionally bring him water or lemonade while he worked. And today, your excuse for seeing him was to invite him to your pool party. You catch him outside after work, in his garage tinkering around under his truck. You stroll across the street and walk in. You knock on the side of the garage walls and Joel slides out from under his Silverado.

“Well hey there!” He beams, striding towards you

“What’s up cowboy.”

“Not much, waiting for Sarah to come home from soccer camp.” He informs

“Oh keeping her busy.”

“Well between so and the library reading contest she’s more or less keeping herself busy. Determined to get those Astro tickets. I promised we would do a road trip and she reaches thirty books by the end of June and wins the two tickets. She’s already at twenty five. She has a whole strategy.”

“Wow. Good for her. Well I hope she’s not too busy this weekend…” you state

“Oh yeah why’s that” he smiles, leaning his arm against the garage and above your head. You feel totally lost here with him looking at you how he is. His big brown eyes, so curious and pleasant, simply wondering what you have to say. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well I sent out an evite a little bit ago, but I wanted to come tell you in person that I’m having a pool party Saturday. I thought we could all beat the heat ya know.”

“Yeah we‘ll be free.” He steps back, taking a rag from his waist and wiping his hands. He heads toward his garage fridge and gets out two bottles of water, offering you one.

“Thanks. So you do have your own water.”

“Yeah I always keep that fridge full. Especially with Sarah and her friends I practically always got Gatorade.”

“So you just like my water better?”

Joel smiles at you, combing his hair with his fingers. You watch his muscles flex and wish that you can be wrapped in them. He starts to look through his tool box and nods.

“You could say that. So Saturday you said? What time?”

“It starts at 12, but you can stay for as long as you’d like.”

“I’ll talk to Sarah, but I have a feeling she'll say yes. She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take.”

“I’m sure.”

“We’ll see ya Saturday then.” He winks and disappears back under his truck

You waltz out of the garage and back to your house. You trot inside gleefully and close the door behind you. You could jump, squeal, practically combust. Not only did you just figure out Joel had his own drinks on deck whenever he works, but always accepts an offer from you no matter what. God he must like you. He must. You hope you're not thinking too much into it but, you couldn’t help but think when he said “She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take…” he really was talking about himself. You bite your lip and roll your eyes. You want him so badly. So bad you feel like you are going to explode. You lean your head back against the door and sigh.

Saturday comes around soon enough, and you spend the whole evening and next morning preparing for the day. You clean your house, chop lettuce, tomatoes and onions for burgers, cut up a watermelon and make a macaroni salad. Even though you hadn’t explicitly asked for his help, you had a feeling Joel would want to help grill and you’d gladly take it. You prepare a cooler with a few beers and some water and put it in your garage fridge. Next you set up the pool area. You lay the cushions on the pool chairs, unwind the umbrellas and set out a few pool noodles. Everything looks perfect and your first guests start arriving around 12:08. More and more people arrive and at around 1:30, you finally see Joel and Sarah pulling up. He walks in with his own cooler and a swim bag. He approaches you while Sarah runs off to the other neighborhood kids.

“Well hey cowboy! Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah sorry we are late. Work called last minute and I had to help them order some more flooring for our site.”

“No worries. But these people are getting hungry and maybe you could help grill. I hate to put you to work…”

“Ain’t no trouble darling.”

“Ok I’m going to change. The patties are already formed, just in the fridge.”

Joel follows you inside and heads into your kitchen, poking his head in the fridge. You walk upstairs to your bedroom and change into your swimsuit. You had gone out that week and picked out a new suit. It was white, a two piece, the edge frilled, and it shaped your figure so well. You spin around and admire how it sits on your ass. The back had a cheeky build, and totally gave the viewer an idea of how your cute little ass looks. Not to mention the way it rides up, exposing your cheeks slightly, it’s perfect and you can’t wait for Joel to see you in it. You put your jean shorts back on and find one of your white, open-knit, pool coverup and a red, and a worn USA baseball cap. You pull your ponytail through the loop of your hat and spin around one last time.

Rushing down the stairs, only to find Joel already outside starting the grill. You sigh in disappointment. You take a beer from your fridge and try to open in on your own. Then Joel walks back inside. Even though your back is turned to him, he can tell you are struggling.

“Need help?”

You jump and turn around, your tits bouncing slightly as you turn, which Joel notices. He also seems slightly speechless as you turn to face him. His sentence cut off, face frozen, as if you stole the words from his mouth.

“Uh yeah, thanks.” You hand him the bottle and he takes it, uncapping it like it’s nothing. He hands it back to you and you take a swig.

“Oh hey so because I was so outta sorts getting out the door, I totally forgot to get sunscreen. You got any, Sarah is itching to get in the pool.”

“Of course” you run back up to your bathroom, find a 50 SPF bottle and head back down stairs. Joel calls out to his daughter and she comes rushing inside. At the sight of your face she enthusiastically calls your name and rushes towards you. You hold her in your arms.

“Hey sunshine!”

“We brought brownies!” She proclaims

“Oh did your dad make them?”

“Mhmm. Well he helped, I really was the baker!” She insists

Joel lets out a playful chuckle and rolls his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, especially with all those eggshells you had to fish out?”

“At least I know how to preheat the oven.” She claps back

Joel smirks and then looks at you. He has always appreciated how loving and kind you are to Sarah. He appreciates knowing that when she’s with you, she’s in more than good hands. And you adored her as well.

“Hey! let her get that sunscreen on ya.”

“I’m fine! I’ll stay in the shade!” Sarah protests but before she can scurry off you’re already squirting it into your hand, applying it to her shoulders.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him. I thought you’re supposed to be the fun one!” She whines, and you smear her face. She scrunches it up in displeasure.

“I am the fun one. This is called fun in the sun, sunshine.”

She groans and pulls her face away.

“You know I think I saw a bomb pop with your name on it out in the garage fridge, if you can still hang in there for one more second.” You promise. “Ok there. Top shelf in the garage. Bring a few for the other kids. Ok?”

“Yes!” She states firmly and rushes off into the garage

“She just loves to keep ya busy…”

“Tell me about it.” Joel rolls his eyes “you uh…you look nice…” he swallows nervously

“Thanks, it’s new. I got it for today actually.”

“Oh really. Trying to impress someone?” He asks

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You quip back, smirking “how’s those burgers coming along”

“Grills still heating up, this is really nice of ya to invite everyone. Sarah hasn’t really had much pool time with soccer.”

“Well you two are invited over anytime.”

“Appreciate the offer. What else do you need for these burgers?”

“Here” you state, turning to the fridge and opening it.

You grab the toppings, cheese, and condiments and follow him outside. As Joel grills, you make your way around, chatting with your fellow neighbors. Eventually you get in the pool with a playful “go on sugar, I’ll holler at ya when they are ready” from Joel. As you strip off your top and shorts, Joel checks you out from across the pool. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on the curves of your body, the way your bikini bottoms hug your ass, and how nice and perky your boobs sit on your chest.

You notice him checking you out, your own eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. You try not to look so much, but with his back to you, it’s easier to admire his broad shoulders. And you have to admit, Joel is absolutely radiating domesticity. You could easily get used to this sight. Sarah splashes around you, pretending to be a mermaid looking for pearls and you throw sinking rings for her to dive for. Joel catches you playing with Sarah, and smiles. The smell of hamburger meat fills the air and Joel calls to you. You throw some more rings in to keep Sarah occupied and head out of the pool.

“How are these, little lady?” Joel asks as you approach

“Fantastic! Let’s put cheese on half of them.”

“You got it!”

People start to gather for food and you help Sarah dry off and get her a plate.

“Cheese or no cheese baby?” Joel asks Sarah as she approaches the grill

“Cheeeese!” She smiles, showing off her big smile to her dad

“What about you doll?” He asks you

“Same as her.”

After you eat, you wait a while to get back in the pool. You lay out with a few of the girls from the neighborhood Wine Club. As you chat, Joel admires the way the sun glimmers off your body. With most of the food served, Joel joins his daughter in the pool. You watch as he takes off his shirt, gawking over his bare chest. His shoulders cut into his neck so sharp and clean and you can help but want to feel how strong he is. And You smirk to yourself, happy to finally see him exactly how you wanted to. And he looks damn good in his turquoise-green trunks.

“I’ll be right back…” you excuse yourself, striding over to Joel, swaying your hips

“Can I get you a drink? I’m getting another beer, and maybe one of those brownies I heard about.”

“Oh I want one!” Sarah exclaims

“If you get out you’re getting more sunscreen on ya babe..” Joel promises

“She can bring me one and I can eat in the pool!”

“No, no baby. C’mon.” He argues, lifting Sarah out of the pool and onto the pavement.

“Awww!” Sarah whines, swinging her arms and legs.

You hold her hand and take her to the food, you grab a towel, wrap her in it and get her a small plate. You place a brownie on it and hand it to her.

“Can I have two?” She bats her eyes

“Go ask your daddy…”

She waddles over to Joel, squatting down to ask him. He rolls his eyes and nods and she trots back to you.

“He said I can!”

As the afternoon turns into evening, more and more people head back to their homes and pretty soon the sun is setting. You start to clean up, picking up plates and empty bottles and taking them inside the house.

The last few neighbors pop in to thank you and say goodbye and behind them is Joel.

“Hey…need some help?” Joel asks you

“Oh you’ve done more than enough. Y’all headed out?”

“I uh...sent Sarah home with the Adler’s. They said they’d watch her for the evening until I got back.“

“Oh! Well I would have loved to say goodbye to her.” You frown

“I bet she would have too, but she passed out on my knee even with everyone running around. Danny wanted to get his Ma home anyways…” he explains

He walks up to the kitchen counter and places a few empty beer bottles down. You smile and thank him. He helps bring in a few more bottles and follows you around with a trash bag as you pick up plates and plastic silverware. After everything is cleaned up and the pool is closed up, you and Joel head inside.

“Well I don’t wanna keep you from Sarah much longer.”

“It’s ok, unless that’s your way of kindly kicking me out, then by all means I’ll head out.” He smirks

“No no, you can stay if you like…”

“You sure?”

You nod and he closes the sliding door leading out to the pool, locking it.

“I don’t have much beer left, but you seem like a whiskey guy to me.” You imply

“I sure do.”

You pour him a glass and he leans over your counter. He smiles and he holds the glass to his lips and sips.

“I really appreciate ya Joel.”

“It’s no trouble.”

There is a brief moment of silence as you take a sip of your whiskey and gaze into his big brown eyes. You can’t help but feel he’s looking at you in the same way. A wave of desire washes over you and just as you're about to speak, possibly trying to make a move, Joel strides over to you.

“Ya know if ya ever need my help, I’ll always be willing. Whatever you need…”

“You’re too sweet Joel, I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Maybe you can, baby…” the words slip from his lips and steal your breath away. You gasp and move in closer to him.

“I’m sorry, can I call you baby?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yeah? Well then baby, kiss me…”

You lean up, cupping his face and pressing his lips against your own. He holds your face in return, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks and moaning into your mouth. Your hands move to cup his neck as you move your face, deepening the kiss. Joel clutches your jaw, pulling you closer and raising you onto your tippy toes. You chuckle against him. This is finally happening. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve dreamed of. Ever since him and Sarah moved in, you have wanted him. It was no secret. Perhaps that’s why the Adler’s offered to watch Sarah. To give you this moment. And you’re ever so thankful.

Joel’s calloused palms move to your waist, slowly trailing down your body, feeling the sides of your bare skin. You hadn’t bothered putting your swim shirt back on after the pool and you were grateful. You welcome his fingers and let out a girlish giggle, his feather light touch overwhelming.

“How late do you wanna stay?”

Joel checks his watch. It’s 8:10.

“I told the Adlers I would be back by 9 so I mean…is that enough time for you…”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” You smile against his face, kissing his cheek.

With that he returns his mouth to your own and he moves to cup under your shorts. He squeezes your ass and moves his hands under your thighs. In one swift motion he picks you up and is moving you both to your couch. You and him stumble into it and he sits down with you on his lap. You gasp and pull back.

“Ok that was fucking hot Miller, my god could you get any sexier.”

“You know what’s sexy…” he implies, pulling on the front of your bikini top, snapping the strap

“You like it?”

“You look like an absolute snack in this thing darling. And your ass, fuck I couldn’t stop looking at it by the pool.” he pants

“Glad you noticed. I was trying to impress you if you didn’t pick up on that when I told you.”

“Oh I did, and it worked. It definitely worked.” He sighs, sealing his words with another searing kiss.

You rock against him as his mouth moves with yours. You simply can’t get enough of him like this and he desperately wants to devour you. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. He moves to squeeze your ass again, fingers dancing underneath your jeans. He grabs and gropes you, causing you to whine and whimper into his mouth.

“I love those pretty little noises you make, baby. I can’t wait to hear what other noises you make for me.” He whispers

He pulls at the hem of your jeans, tugging on them until they slide down your ass. You stand up, pulling them down your smooth legs. He starts rubbing the back of your thighs, moving his hands up and down and settling them underneath the cheek of your ass. He pulls your waist close to his face, your pelvis practically grinding up against his nose and lips. You delicately place your hands on his shoulders as he admires you.

“Let me see that cute little ass of yours again, babydoll”

Then suddenly you are spun around and he grips the strings of your bikini bottoms slowly pulling them down. As he does, he kisses the bear skin that’s being revealed to him until his lips are consuming your ass. You let out a sigh, arching your back slightly as his mouth finds your core. He dives in, placing his hands on the meat of your ass and nuzzling into your cheeks. His soft lips began to kiss your folds, and you buck up against his face. He growls against you, groping your cheeks and diving in to taste you. His mouth and tongue finds your clit and he begins to lap at it. He’s so hungry for you. So desperate to drink up your juices like a sweet nectar. Your legs quiver slightly and Joel notices. He wraps his hands around the front of your thighs, steadying you , while simultaneously pulling you closer to his mouth. He pulls back quickly, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves feverishly, cooing as you moan and whine.

“Tastes so good. So fucking good baby.” He whispers.

He mouths at your pussy, his saliva mixing with your juices, making you so wet. You’re throbbing into his mouth and he places a few chase kisses to your cunt, before pulling away. He takes his shirt off and tosses it aside. He gives your core a few more open mouth kisses then spins you around once more, and you take off your top. You slowly pull the dainty string, letting your bikini top fall off you and onto his lap. He moans, clutching the top in his hand. You move to straddle him and he tosses the top on the ground.

Before you can put your weight on him, he bucks his hips, taking his trunks off. His cock springs forward and he takes his incredible length in his hand. He slowly pumps himself and you lower your ass onto his thighs. You don’t quite sink into him yet, wanting to appreciate this moment with him. He cups your ass and you clasp the back of his neck. He leans forward to press feather light kisses along your jaw and neck. Then his actions get more aggressive as he starts to manipulate your breasts. You mewl and arch into him. Your entire body starts to slowly rock against his, teasing him with your wet core on his cock.

“Fuck I want you. I can feel ya. So wet.”

You nod, biting your lip and Joel loves his hand down in between your legs again. He plays with your clit for a moment, before sinking a finger in you. You buck up on him, and steady yourself on his shoulders. He pumps his finger into you, loving the way your heat and juices consume his digit. He adds another one, and you feel so incredibly full.

“You ready for me?” Joel murmurs against your neck.

“Mhmm, please Joel. I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasp as he removes his fingers. He wraps his hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance. The tip pokes in, then you engulf the rest, taking his full length in you. He lets out a staggering moan as he works his lips down to your collarbone and valley of your breasts. You move your hips, slowly grinding on his cock and your tits bounce in his face. He chuckles and looks up at you. He sits back, holding your hips as you ride him.

“Fucking look at you girl. So gorgeous my god.”

You giggle in return, feeling up your body and playing with your boobs.

“That’s it, put on a little show for me.”

You bounce on him, continuing to feel your body and then you touch your clit, swirling it around in between your fingers. You let out a long, breathy moan, tilting your head back.

“Mmm Joel, Joel Joel Joel….” You hang his name as he squeezes your ass harshly. He helps you move, shoving your body onto his cock and moving his hands to hold your hips.

“That’s it. Oh my god you’re perfect…”

You learn back slightly, rolling your hips and tummy. He splays his hands over your waist, his breath hitching. He loves watching you move. He loves how you feel and needs more. Joel moves expertly to stand up, keeping himself buried inside you and, placing you on your back, you yelp as he lays you on the couch. He dives in for your lips again. He crawls on top of you, wasting no time shoving his length into you. Cupping your face. He rocks his hips, his cock filling you up once again. He speeds up, drilling into you. Your legs fold up to your chest, giving him better access to your pussy. As he thrusts into you, his beautiful eyes meet your own, his gaze thirsty for more. He rests his forehead against you and pants.

“You close?”

“If you touch me again. Play with me a little then I’ll come… please Joel…”

“Yeah? Like this baby?”

He aggressively rubs your core, his hand in sync with his hips. You nod and let out a series of incoherent babbles. You move against his hand and cock, a pool of ecstasy filling your stomach and drowning your senses. Your heat builds and builds until you break. You clench down around him, your breath leaving you as Joel’s mouth falls onto your own. With a few more of his own pumps, his seed is spilling inside you.

“Oh shit” he curses “fuck baby it’s just you felt so good shit I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine I’m on the pill.”

“You sure it’s ok?

You nod and he kisses you deeply, lips pressing firmly on your own. You moan, holding his face.

“You just might be the most perfect thing on the planet, ya know that?”

“Whatever you say.” you chuckle

“I know this may come off as formal given what we just did, but I really wanna take you out for a drink sometime. Like an actual date. If you want?”

“Yes Joel, I’d like that very much.”

꧁•☀︎•꧂

[sweetbans29]

Jersey - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin likes her jersey better on you than she does on herself (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: What any of us would do for this...

When you met Caitlin sophomore year of high school, you would have never imagined your friendship and relationship to get you where you are today. The two of you played on Iowa Attack and that is when you learned just how amazing she was.

It would be a lie to say that the two of you connected right away - you actually butted heads at the beginning. When the two of you first started playing - she wasn't the best teammate. And that was a knock to her, it was a learning curve that everyone had to navigate. She was just that good.

But once the team got more practice together and began to learn how Caitlin played and how everyone played a role, the team really began feeling like a team. It rubbed you the wrong way in the beginning but the more you got to know her and her game it made sense. She was so far ahead of everyone when it came to her knowledge of the game that you could understand where she was coming from.

It was your senior year of high school when the two of you started dating. You made the first move even though she was the one to be completely obvious when it came to her feelings for you. You wanted to make your first date memorable so you asked her mom to help.

You show up at Caitlin's house at 10AM on a Saturday morning and knock on her door. She opens the door and is surprised to see you standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Caitlin asks with a little blush.

"Why hello to you too," you say with a smile. You can Caitlin's nerves with your presence. She tries to keep it cool and play them off but you just stand there and watch her struggle. First, one of her arms comes up and leans against the door while she crosses her leg. When the door begins to move she realizes it is a bad idea and stops leaning on the door and decides to put her hands on her hips to keep her hands from fidgeting.

"You know you are cute when you are nervous," you say and she blushes even more.

"You didn't answer my question," she says trying to regain any part of this meeting.

"Well, if you must know," you say with a teasing tone and the biggest smile. "I am taking you on a date."

She looks at you with wide eyes, a smile immediately making its way to her face.

"Wait, what?" She says with a goofy grin - her heart beating faster now than it does in any game.

"Caitlin Clark, we are going on a date," you say again, your smile matching hers. Her smile fades as a realization hits her.

"Wait, my mom needs me to help her with some family stuff today," Cait says, now frowning.

"No, she doesn't, I sort of roped her into helping me block out your schedule today so I could take you out," you say proudly that your plan had worked.

"Mom!" Caitlin yells as she immediately goes to find her. When she walks away from the door, you step inside and wait for her to return.

"Mom! Aunt Ellie isn't coming over today?" Cait asks. Her mom laughs.

"Well, she is, but we don't need your help. You are going out today," her mom says as she hands Cait a bag.

"What is this?" Caitlin asks, looking at the zipped-up tote bag. She begins to unzip it.

"Nope! You can't look in there yet," Anne's hand comes and stops her daughter. "She will let you know when you can."

Caitlin turns back to look at you standing by the front door. She goes back to where you are.

"Are you ready?" You ask.

She nods with excitement and you guide her out to your car.

"So where are we going?" She asks as you begin the drive.

"You will just have to wait and see," you say with a smile.

It was almost a 3-hour car ride but you finally made it to your destination. Once you were near your final destination, you let Caitlin open the bag her mom handed her. Inside is her Chiefs jersey.

"We are not," Caitlin says as she pulls out her jersey. "There is no way."

You laugh.

"Ya, I actually just drove us out here to go watch it at some local restaurant." You say and she whips her head to look at you in disbelief.

"I kid," you say putting your hand up and telling her to look in the bag. Under the jerseys were two tickets to the game that afternoon.

The two of you spent the day cheering on the Chiefs, eating all of the stadium food you could hold, and enjoying each other's company. On the drive home, you both were riding the high of your team's win. It is only when you are pulling up to her house that she becomes quiet. You park your car and she doesn't make a move to get out.

"Why...how did you do this?" Caitlin asks looking down at her hands.

You give the girl a question look - not that she sees. When you don't answer right away she continues.

"Why me?" She asks fighting the urge inside her to remain looking at her hands and turns her head to look at you. You look at the girl with love-filled eyes and a gentle smile.

"Why not you Caitlin? We've been friends now for a few years and even though I may have had my reservations about you in the beginning, you let me in and showed me who you are. A girl who feels so deeply that she doesn't know what to do with it half the time. You may be reserved with the world, and rightfully so I might add, but you have welcomed me into your heart and have made sure I stick around a while. You never explicitly said you liked me but seeing how your actions have changed towards me the last few months - the protecting, the asking intentional questions, the nervousness, all of it never went unnoticed. You were just too busy caring for me to see that I have been trying to love you back." You say as Cait sits there in disbelief and trying to wrack her brain for any of your signs the last few months. You take her hand in yours.

"So I got tired of waiting - I felt like I knew you well enough to know at the rate you were going, you would have never asked me out before heading to Iowa and I took matters into my own hands. I got together with your mom and dad and they helped me plan this." You bring her hand up to kiss the back of it.

Caitlin is too stunned to speak - she has never had anyone who has loved her like you are. You bring your free hand to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek.

"I am going to kiss you now," you say slowly leaning in. You can see the effect you are having on her as her chest begins to rise and fall twice as fast. You bring her into a gentle kiss - it is slow and innocent. Once you pull apart, you both smile.

Now the two of you have moved to Indiana together and are starting life outside of Iowa for the first time. It's both an exciting and challenging time as Cait navigates the transition to the W right out of college. After finding an apartment - you started learning about the city while Caitlin jumped right into training camp.

The beginning of the season is a rough start as the Fever navigates a fairly new team. You can tell it all takes a toll on Cait mentally as she is trying to figure out what playing in the W looks like. The transition is something both of you were expecting but not to this degree. Her game wasn't what had been affected (at least not to the degree she was worried about) - it was everything aside of the game that Caitlin (and you) had to learn how to deal with. You did your best to make sure Caitlin was talking to her parents and even her old teammates this season to help encourage her and keep her sane.

She is incredibly thankful that you are there with her because aside from her parents, there is no one who knows the girl better than you do.

Her first game of the season was thrilling. It wasn't unfamiliar as Caitlin was used to playing in front of a packed house - it always fueled her even more. You were lucky enough to tag along and planned on being at every game of hers as she had them write it into her contract that you would travel with them to any away game. You had already been looking into flights when she mentioned you would just be traveling with the team.

You would always be close behind her when she would arrive at the stadiums and would often get pulled into quick little interviews about Caitlin. You would always hype her up and match her in some way shape or form.

After every game, the two of you would walk hand in hand with her jersey draped over your shoulder - ready to turn in for the night.

It had become a thing in college where Caitlin would pass along her jersey to you after every game. It became such a known thing that the uniform team would need to provide Caitlin a new jersey every game. It wasn't super uncommon but soon became known that after she put her game jersey on, it would never come back to them.

The fans also started to notice how you would walk out with Caitlin after the game with her jersey draped over your shoulder. The fans that had followed her in college knew that her game jersey was reserved for you but the newer fans had a field day when they found out. It became what you were known for.

You didn't expect it to be the same in the pros with Caitlin's jersey as you saw other players signing and handing off their jersey to a fan after the game. But without fail, after every game, Cait would walk out to you, jersey in hand, ready to hang it over your shoulder for your collection at home. The world knew that all game jerseys were yours, but what they didn't know is that before she would give them to you she would write some sort of cute message on them just for you. They would all conclude with her CC signature and the date.

It's the 6th game in the season when the Fever plays the Sparks for the first time. You are sitting in a box with some of the other staff and visitors for this game. By the end of the fourth - the Fever takes their first win of the season and the crowd and the team go crazy.

You make your way down the court when there are 2 minutes remaining and wait close to the bench as the team celebrates their first victory together.

Cait is pulled into a quick post-game interview with Aliyah and then is told to go meet someone courtside. You wait patiently, talking to some of the other players and congratulating them on a much-deserved win. You are talking with Lexie and Jason Sudeikis (who you have surprisingly built a friendship with as became to many of Cait's games) when you are pulled from your spot and are being dragged across the court by your girlfriend.

"Caitlin, I was in the middle of a conversation," you say yelling over the people. She brings you to a group of people and you immediately gasp when you see Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis standing there with their kids.

She introduces you and you do your best to keep your cool.

"We are such big fans of yours," you say as you hug each of them.

"You are too sweet!" Mila says as she introduces her kids.

Their daughter looks up at Caitlin with tears in her eyes and asks if she would sign and give her jersey to her.

Both Caitlin and Mila speak at the same time.

"This jersey is already claimed but I can definitely get you a signed one!" Caitlin says.

"Sweetie, you know she always gives it to her girlfriend," Mila says at the same time.

You decide to jump in.

Looking at the girl you say, " I would love if you had this jersey." Your smile beams and Caitlin is about to protest.

"But you have to promise to keep it safe for us, okay?" You say and she proceeds to nod with excitement.

You look over at Cait, who is giving you a 'but no this is yours' look and you just wave her off.

"I'll make sure it gets to you once she changes out of it okay?" You say and Ashton and Mila are both incredibly thankful for you.

"It is crazy that you knew that all of my jerseys go to her," Cait says to Mila.

"Well, we have been following you for a little while now and have seen the interview when you mentioned she has all of your jerseys from college. That is super cute," Mila says.

Caitlin blushes and you laugh.

"You would think I have enough but 139 just isn't enough," you say jokingly and Cait gives you a look of hurt - you know it is all in light spirits.

"You love it when I give you my jersey," Caitlin fights back.

"I do, and I hope you never stop," you say leaning in to hug her side, patting her on the chest.

You part ways with the Kutcher family and tell them you will get their daughter CC's jersey but not before taking a photo.

When you get back to the locker room with Caitlin, she changes and your take the jersey.

Later that night you are scrolling through your social media feed and see Mila had tagged you in a post. You pull it up to see it is the group photo that was taken followed by a photo of her daughter in Caitlin's jersey. You smile and like it, leaving a comment - 'No one else I would rather share CC's game day jersey with 🫶🏽'.

You scroll through the comments and see how cute it is and how that is a one-in-a-million jersey. You turn over to Cait, who is lying next to you, and show her.

"I can't believe you gave away my first Fever win jersey," she mumbles. You laugh at her.

"I have your pre-season win jersey! And there was no way we were saying no to Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis," you say.

"Even she was saying that jersey belonged to you," Caitlin retorts.

"I think we will both live if I don't have a jersey from today," you say and kiss her shoulder.

"That's what you think, but lucky for you - I made sure you wouldn't go home empty-handed," she says as she gets out of bed and brings her over her warm-up shirt from the game.

"Caitlin, you did not." You say sitting up and taking the shirt from her.

You look down at it and see her message.

[My girl - This first win goes to you and the heart of gold you have. Here's to many more. I love you - CC 5.24.24]

She is still standing next to your bed when you reach up to hug her. Her arms wrap around you faster than yours can wrap around her.

"I love you, you know that?" You say squeezing your girl.

"I know and I love you even more," she says as she nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck.

BONUS - SOME OF THE MESSAGES CAITLIN WRITES ON HER JERSEYS FOR YOU

[My girl - To the first of many, a little thank you. I love you - CC 11.25.20]

[My girl - Let the fun begin - CC 3.23.21]

[My girl - I tried but 46 wasn't enough. Thank you for cheering me on no matter what. I love you - CC 2.6.22]

[My girl - Thank you for the pregame pep talk, it was needed more than you know. Michigan didn't stand a chance. Love you - CC 2.27.22]

[My girl - First double-double of the season, feeling good. Love hearing you in the crowd. Love you - CC 11.10.22]

[My girl - Not the way we wanted to ring in the new year but having you here made it better. We will get them next time. Love you - CC 1.1.23]

[My girl - A triple-double to take us to the final four, who would have thought...I mean you, you knew I could. I love you - CC 3.26.23]

[My girl - That one was rough, thank you for always cheering me on. I love you - CC 4.2.23]

[My girl - The beginning of the end. So glad you are here with me. Love you - CC 11.6.23]

[My girl - Thank you for loving me through my worst. You are the best - CC 2.11.24]

[My girl - I did it, babe! Most points in D1 women's basketball AND school high with career-high scoring for a game, easy. Hope you enjoy this birthday gift, love you - CC 2.15.24]

[My girl - Not to brag but your girl is the all-time leading scorer in the NCAA. - CC 3.3.24]

[My girl - No mercy, we have been working for this all year. Love you - CC 4.1.24]

[My girl - I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me, your support at every game fueled me. Thank you, baby. Yours forever - CC 4.7.24]

[My girl - Here's to a whole new adventure and jersey for your collection. I love you - CC 5.3.24]

[My girl - This first win goes to you and the heart of gold you have. Here's to many more. I love you - CC 5.24.24]

[My girl - Marry me? - CC 9.19.24]

AN: This is cute. I'm a fan but let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[strangersteddierthings]

Hey @rustypeopleskillz! I had a lot of fun writing a Jealous!Steve fic, especially since he didn't really understand why he was jealous. I hope you like it!

Here's a little worldbuilding. This takes place in the summer of '87. Jonathan, Nancy and Robin are all in college but have returned to Hawkins for the summer. Argyle has come to visit, too. Robin has resumed her position at Family Video as a summer job.

Written for the @steddiesummerexchange.

-

June 12, 1987

It’s already hot this early in June, and Steve is grateful for the working AC at Family Video. And speaking of Family Video, that reminds Steve.

"You coming over for movies tomorrow?" Steve asks, even though he knows the answer. It's more a formality at this point. They have movie night pretty regularly, Eddie, Robin and himself, now that Robin’s back in town from college. Occasionally they’ll be joined by others, the kids or Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle (always together when they join) but movie night always includes himself, Robin and Eddie.

"Oh, uh, no," Eddie answers, sounding just as surprised by his answer as Steve feels.

"What? Why?" Steve's questions come out accusatory. Eddie's always free for movie night. Hellfire is on Sundays now, and Corroded Coffin meets on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Friday nights have been saved for Steve. Or, well, not Steve but for movie night!

“What are you, the police?” Eddie snorts. He doesn’t answer the questions.

Before Steve can comment on that avoidance, a quiet voice calls out an ‘excuse me’ and Steve has to turn to the register to get back to work. From the corner of his eye, he watches Eddie push off the counter and head towards the back corner of Family Video, where Robin is currently shelving the last of the returns.

The quiet voice that interrupted belongs to a kid, probably Holly’s age, wanting to rent Snow White. Easy enough to ring up, and soon enough the kid’s out the door, heading towards the car parked directly in front of the doors. Steve looks back over his shoulder in the direction Eddie’d gone. Neither he or Robin is visible, so they’re probably caught up in conversation.

Good. Gives Steve some time to think about why he was going to give Eddie the third degree about not making it to movie night. There have been a few times that Eddie didn’t come to movie night before; it’s not like this is the first time it’s happened. All those other times, though, Eddie had told him why. Eddie doesn’t owe him a why, and really Steve has no reason to demand one of him. Steve’s not his keeper.

It just… rubs Steve the wrong way. He doesn’t know why.

When Eddie and Robin rejoin him at the counter, Steve doesn’t bring up movie night again. It’ll still be fun with just Robin. It’s Robin! How can he not have fun with she’s around?

Eddie stays around another half hour before he says he has to go. Once Eddie is backing out of the parking spot, he whips to Robin to ask, “You’re still coming to movie night, right?”

“Duh,” Robin says, looking up from the stack of returns she’s been pretending to process, “unless I’ve got a hot date, and that’s not happening anytime soon, why would I miss it?”

“It could happen, if you’d shoot your shot wi-”

“No. Nope. Not today!” Robin cuts him off with a glare.

He lifts his hands to show he’s defenseless and drops that particular subject for a moment. He’ll have the whole movie night to harass her about her crushes. “Okay, alright. Touchy.”

“Oh, like you were with Eddie about movie night?”

“What, did he immediately go tattle on me!?” Steve says, scandalized. There’s no loyalty here.

“No, but I did hear your immediate grilling of Eddie. You weren’t exactly whispering, and this place is, like, the size of your living room-”

“It is not.”

“-so, no. Eddie did not tattle. He did, however, share what happened the second I asked ‘what was that all about’, so do with that what you will.”

“Oh,” Steve frowns. “Well, did Eddie tell you why he’s not coming?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the returns. “No. I didn’t ask because I am not particularly bothered that he can’t make it to one movie night.”

Steve frowns harder. He’s not bothered. Why would he be bothered that Eddie has something else he has to do? Steve’s not his keeper. It’s fine.

Except for how Steve can’t shake the feeling that it’s not fine. He feels some sort of way about it but can’t name it. Definitely a negative feeling of some kind. Maybe worry? Sadness? He’s not sure, but he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t bring it up the rest of their shift, though, because he knows Robin will ask why this is bothering him so much and Steve won’t have an answer.

June 16, 1987

Steve doesn’t see Eddie again for four days, which Steve thought wasn’t unusual for them. They aren’t attached at the hip friends. That privelege is reserved for Robin. Except now that Steve is thinking about it, he realizes that the only person he sees on the regular besides Robin is Eddie.

Eddie usually comes and spends a majority of his afternoons at Family Video, or he’s hanging out with Steve and Robin at Steve’s house, or inviting them to his for hangouts. Steve and Eddie even hang out alone often enough. Steve will crash at his place after a late night smoke sesh or Eddie will stay with him when the nightmares get too much to deal with alone.

Now that he’s realized how much of his time was taken up with Eddie, he notices how absent Eddie’s been. He can’t even talk about this with Robin because he doesn’t get why he even wants to talk about it! Why it matters so much.

Even back when Steve’s best friends were Tommy and Carol, he’s never felt like this after not seeing either of them for days at a time, and they used to be as attached to each other as he is with Robin now. He doesn’t know what that says about him. Was his friendship with them really that shallow? Or is his friendship with Eddie just that deep?

That seems like the right idea. Eddie went through hell with him and the kids, died for them, and Steve brought him back. It’s not that his previous friendships were shallow, they just weren’t forged the same way.

So, it takes four days for Steve to see Eddie again, and it’s because Steve seeks him out. He couldn’t just pop in, though, because he’s overthought this too much. Even though no one but himself knows the thoughts Steve’s been having, he still feels an embarrassment for them. Which is stupid, he knows, but it doesn’t stop the feeling.

Four days he waits before deciding to check in on Max. See how she’s doing, if she needs a lift to the grocery store or something. A habit formed because her mom is trying to be better, has been since Max was hospitalized, but Susan’s still working two jobs and it doesn’t leave a lot of time to get to the store during the hours it’s open. Steve offered to take Max once, and now it’s an unspoken agreement.

Before knocking on Max’s door, though, he looks down the road to make sure Eddie’s van is parked in its usual spot and it is.

He checks on Max, knowing she doesn’t need anything because Susan did have time to get to the grocery store this week. He knows because he ran into her there yesterday, and thought up this whole convoluted excuse so he can check in on Eddie without seeming like that’s what he’s doing.

Steve is not proud about this. That embarrassed feeling ever present, even now that he’s checked on Max and been quickly shooed away because El is over and they’re having a girls day.

Maybe he should talk to Robin about this. Why is he embarrassed by missing Eddie?

The thought causes him to skip a step as he heads down the road to the Munsons’ new place, which is up the road in the opposite direction of the old Munson trailer from Max’s home.

Oh. He’s missed Eddie, and he’s embarrassed that he’s missed him. Why hadn’t he known that until now?

He really is going to need to talk to Robin after this.

The Munson’s are still in the process of building the porch for this new trailer; it’s just a frame that stretches from the stairs to the end of trailer. It looks like they’re doing everything they can to make this place look like their old one. Or, maybe, they just really like having a porch.

He should ask Wayne if he wants help finishing it next time he sees him.

Steve knocks on the door with three quick raps and doesn’t have to wait long.

The door swings open to reveal Eddie. His hair is pulled up off his neck, which is a familiar look on Eddie by now with the hot Indiana summer.

“Oh!” Eddie looks surprised. “Hey Steve. What brings you here?”

“I was just checking in on Max, and saw your van was here. Thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side and studies Steve for a moment. “Well, if you don’t have anywhere else to be, you wanna hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, possibly to quickly. “I mean, I got time.”

Eddie grins and steps back, out of the doorway so he can enter. Steve toes off his shoes as Eddie breezes past him and to the couch. He must have been watching something on TV because he usually shuts himself away in his room with all his things. (Steve called him a hoarder once and Eddie’d said that just makes him a dragon. At Steve’s blank look, Eddie’d explained that dragons have hoards, typically gold, but that was ‘a bit too rich’ for his blood.)

“What’re we watching?” Steve asks, plopping himself next to Eddie, angled slightly more towards Eddie than the TV.

“I was watching Fire and Ice, but I’m like halfway through. We can find something else.”

“Have you seen it before?” Steve asks, looking at the scene paused on the TV currently. Some animated thing, which is unsurprising. Eddie made him watch an animated Lord of the Rings when Steve gave up on reading the books, and The Black Cauldron just a few weeks ago. Eddie seemed to like animation as much as horror and thriller.

“Several times,” Eddie says. “I own it.”

“Then just tell me what’s happened so far, and the names of people on screen when they appear and I’ll figure it out. Or I won’t,” he adds with a shrug, unbothered about understanding what was happening. If the movie ends up being important enough to Eddie, he’ll see if they have it at Family Video to see the whole thing. Or maybe ask Eddie to invite him over next time he watches.

Eddie laughs and reaches for the remote. He just holds onto it as he explains, “there’s two kingdoms. One of ice, and one of fire. The ice people are evil, the fire ones good. Ice people kidnapped the fire princess, and, uh, the guy in a loincloth is out to save her. Currently he’s stowed away on her brother’s ship as he’s also on the way to save her.”

Ah. Alright. A classic Eddie movie. Fantasy. Magic. A hero, and someone needing saved. Steve nods and waves his hand at the TV in a ‘let’s get on with it’ motion. He’s rewarded with a smile from Eddie before he presses play and settles into the couch.

He watches Eddie much more than he watches the movie. Steve does this most times they watch movies together. He lifts an arm to the back of the couch, bending at the elbow to make a place to place his head, and lounges there. He can see the TV and Eddie’s profile from this position but he ends up watching Eddie’s profile more than the TV.

Eddie’s expressive. Eyebrows going up, mouth opening in shock. Brows furrowing, a scowl when he thinks someone has done something stupid, or a character he hates has come on screen. Laugh lines that come into view. It’s a whole show itself, watching Eddie.

Steve’s got no clue how the movie goes but he watches the very end, if only because he knows as soon as the credits start that Eddie will turn to him for his opinion, and Steve doesn’t want to get caught watching Eddie instead of the movie.

Which is a completely normal thing to worry about.

Perfectly on queue, Eddie turns to him, “so, what did you think?”

Steve turns his own head slowly from the screen to Eddie, takes in his expression. Anticipation for the answer, but Steve thinks Eddie knows that Steve wasn’t paying attention because he looks amused, like he’s asked a trick question. “I think I need to watch it from the beginning.”

Eddie laughs at that, so Steve does, too. They fall into easy conversation after that, chatting for another hour or so until it’s dark and Steve has to leave because he opens tomorrow.

Heading to the door, Steve spots a new leather jacket handing from the little coat rack he’d helped Eddie mount on the wall when the Munsons moved into their new place. He knows the jacket is new, to Eddie anyway, because where the zipper on the sleeve is broken and held together with a chain on Eddie’s old one, this on has a button closure instead.

“Hey, new jacket!” Steve grabs the sleeve, pulling at so he can take a look at the front. Leather jackets aren’t Steve’s style, but he can tell this one looks real nice.

“Oh. No, that’s not mine,” Eddie says. “Jack forgot it in my room, and we know it’ll never see the light of day again if I’d left it there.”

Steve just blinks. “Jack? Who is Jack?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, ushering Steve out the door. “You’re not my only friend, Steve.”

“I know all your other friends,” Steve says dumbly. “Gareth, and Jeff, and Frankie.”

He sees the spark of mischief in Eddie’s eyes before the shit eating grin spreads across his face and he lifts his hands in a ‘what can I say?’ sort of shrug before he says, “Well, you don’t know Jack then.”

Steve groans and Eddie cackles.

June 25, 1987

It takes Steve a few more days and an evening shift with Robin that leads to a sleepover to realize why he can’t stop thinking about the stupid leather jacket hanging up at Eddie’s.

“Okay dingus, what is it?” Robin asks as she locks the front door behind them before toeing her shoes off. Steve is bent down, untying his shoes because he’s not a heathen, so he looks up at her, confusion on his face.

“What is what?”

Robin rolls her eyes like he’s an idiot and puts one hand on her hip to look down at him. “Whatever it is that has you sighing wistfully every five minutes.”

“I am not sighing wistfully,” Steve argues because he’s not. He would know if he was sighing and he’s not. Except as soon as he looks back down at his shoes he does let out a sigh. Shit. Robin’s right. “Okay, guess I am. I just… didn’t know that I was.”

“Well, what’s causing it?”

Steve hesitates, not because he doesn’t want to talk it out with Robin but because he doesn’t know how. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll tell me when you do know?”

“Yeah.”

Their night continues like usual. Steve turns on the radio for background noise, Robin raids his kitchen for snacks, and they lay on the floor in the living room. They complain about the rude customers they dealt with and gossip about the others. Conversation stays light and all the while, Steve is in the back of his mind thinking about that stupid jacket.

“Hey Robs,” Steve says after a quiet has fallen over them. “Did you know Eddie has a friend named Jack?”

“No,” Robin says easily. And Steve supposes it should be an easy thing, to accept that your friend has friends you don’t also have. “Why?”

“He left a jacket at Eddie’s place,” Steve says slowly, still gathering his thoughts. “It was a nice jacket.”

“Uh huh,” Robin agrees, tilting her head a bit to the side, watching him.

“I saw the jacket and thought it was Eddie’s. A new one. But he told me it was Jack’s, and I-I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Or him. Jack. Do you think Jack’s the reason Eddie ditched movie night?”

Robin has the audacity to laugh at him. Just one quick bark of a laugh before she’s covering her mouth with both hands to hold it in. Steve glares at her but she doesn’t even look remorseful for laughing at his problems. Once she’s successfully swallowed her laughter, Robin says, “So, still hung up on that?”

“Robin, I’m being serious right now!”

“About what Steve? You like a jacket that you can’t steal from Eddie because it doesn’t belong to him?”

“No! That Eddie’s got a secret friend who leaves stuff in his room and I’m-” Steve clamps his mouth shut, the unspoken words ringing in his head.

“Oh my God, you’re jealous!” Robin says with too much glee for a woman saying the unspoken bit out loud.

Steve huffs, rolling over onto his stomach to hide his face in his arms. To the carpet he says, “I don’t even know why! I’m not jealous of Eddie’s other friends. Just…”

“Just the one dude you don’t know?”

Steve wants to shrink in on himself but that’s harder to do on the floor than it is curled up on the couch. He settles to tightening his arms around his head. “This is stupid.”

“Yeah, a little,” Robin says lightly, “but Eddie’s your best guy friend and you aren’t used to sharing, spoiled little rich kid that you are.”

“I can share just fine!”

“Not your friends.”

He turns his head, popping out of where he’s hidden to glare at her. “That is not true!”

Robin’s laughing again. “It is! You can’t share friends! You’re only okay with Dustin having other friends because he already had them before being your friend. Same with Eddie and his other friends. But try and bring a new friend in? Nope. Jealousy strikes.”

“That’s- I’m not- I don’t care if other people gets friends that aren’t me.”

She laughs louder before rolling onto her side to look at Steve. “You do to! You were the same way with Tommy and Carol.”

He wants to argue, but really, he doesn’t have an argument. He can’t remember Tommy or Carol trying to bring new friends into their group in school, but also, they’d all gone to the same elementary, middle, and high school. They’d established friendships and cliques early on and at the end of the day, Tommy and Carol had other friends but Steve was their friend and everyone knew it.

Huh.

Maybe he does have a problem with sharing.

“This doesn’t feel the same. I was never- it didn’t feel like this with Tommy and Carol.”

That sobers Robin a little. The laughter drops from her voice when she asks, “well, what does it feel like?”

Steve frowns. “I don’t know. Like… like I’ll lose Eddie.”

“That’s silly,” Robin says, shifting to sit up, cross-legged. “Even if Jack is Eddie’s new best friend, he’ll never have the same bond we all have. You won’t lose Eddie.”

No. He won’t. Robin’s right. The horrors of the Upside Down will forever connect them. This thing that they all will only ever have each other to relate to. But this doesn’t feel like the fear of just losing a friend. It’s something else, but Steve can’t pin down the feeling.

“Yeah,” he agrees, because Robin isn’t wrong. “It is a bit silly.”

July 11, 1987

Steve meets Jack two weeks later. Well, everyone meets Jack two weeks later because in an effort to beat the heat, Dustin showed up in his swim trunks, interrupting Steve and Robin’s first full day off together in weeks, and an hour later Steve’s found himself hosting an impromptu swim party, complete with burgers and hot dogs that Steve ends up in charge of grilling like he’s some dad on the Fourth of July.

(Or, as Robin is apt to remind him, it’s his house and his grill and does he really want to put anyone else in charge of working something with an open flame? Which, no. No he does not.)

Dustin had called and invited the rest of the Party. Will shows up with El, Jonathan, and Argyle. Mike gets a ride from Nancy, who sees what’s happening and asks if it’s okay she crashes the party, too. (Apparently Mike had told her Party Members Only, but once it’s made clear anyone is welcome, Nancy leaves and returns with her swimsuit and several side dishes.)

Max gets a ride from Eddie.

Eddie walks her to the back, “just sayin’ hi.”

“You can stay,” Steve immediately says.

“I got the guys with me,” Eddie says, gesturing vaguely with his hand towards the front of the house.

“No problem. The more, the merrier or whatever,” Steve says, making a circle in the air with his scrubby as he speaks. “I don’t have enough swim trunks for everyone, though.”

Eddie smiles, big and bright and Steve can’t help returning it. “Alright. Awesome. I’ll go ask ‘em if they don’t mind crashing a party.”

Steve hears the answer as Eddie’s van goes quiet instead of the sound of crunching gravel as he leaves, and soon enough all of Corroded Coffin is filing into the backyard along with an unknown dude jammed in the middle of them, chatting with Jeff. Steve knows immediately that Unknown Dude is Jack because he recognizes the leather jacket he’s wearing.

Who wears their leather jacket in the middle of summer?

(Nevermind that Eddie does occasionally. Eddie’s not wearing his right now, though. No, he’s in denim shorts that Steve just knows in his heart where once full jeans and a Judas Priest tank top. The standard summer uniform for him, Steve’s come to know.)

The new group makes the rounds, introducing Jack to everyone as Steve watches from behind the grill. He’s not cooking yet; the grill needed a good cleaning first because it hasn’t been used in God only knows how long.

Jack’s got dirty blonde hair, a length to rival Eddie’s, but pin straight as Steve’s own hair. He’s not a bad looking dude by any means, which Steve feels some sort of way about. Angry, maybe? He’s wearing black jeans, some sort of graphic tee, the stupid leather jacket, and combat boots. Steve can see he wears more rings than Eddie does. It’s entirely too hot to be dressed this way but Jack looks unphased by the heat. Jack doesn’t pass for Eddie’s twin in any way, but they certainly match.

(Steve hates how easily Jack matches Eddie’s aesthetic. He takes in his own Hawaiian printed swim trunks and yellow polo, looking every bit like a Sears catalogue Summer Edition and sticking out amongst all of Eddie’s friends, and everyone else really, for it. (He’d bought both the shirt and swim trunks at Sears, actually, because Robin had pointed out how very ‘him’ them seemed and, well, she wasn’t wrong.))

The grill is now clean and he’s lighting the charcoal by the time the get to him. They’ve lost Gareth to the pool, who took of his shirt, socks, and shoes, and jumped in wearing his jeans, and Frankie to a conversation with Jonathan and Argyle, so it’s just Eddie, Jeff, and Jack who arrive at the grill.

“And this is our glorious and generous host, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says once they come to a stop next to him.

“Hey. I’m Jack Williams,” Jack grins, offering up a hand to shake. Steve takes it and gives it one shake, exactly how his dad taught him to do when meeting business partners. Firm and formal, friendly but distant.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve says because it’s expected for him to say even though he doesn’t think he finds meeting Jack all that nice.

Jack appraises him, then. Jack stands in silence for a moment and he flicks his eyes down, taking in the whole of Steve’s appearance before eyes -blue, Steve sees now that he’s close enough to make out such details- flit about his face. It makes Steve feel like Jack is sizing him up. “I thought thee Steve Harrington would be taller.”

Eddie’s hand swings out, smacking Jack hard on his arm before Steve can even so much as bristle at that. “Dude!”

“I’m just joking!” Jack laugh and Steve hates it. It’s a stupid laugh. “Sorry, Steve. It’s just with all I’ve heard about you I thought I’d be meeting God himself or something.”

Oh. Well. Maybe it’s not that stupid of a laugh. “Really?”

“You have to know you’re Eddie’s favorite subje-” Jack doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Eddie attacks him and Steve has to shoo them away for fear their wrestling will knock over the grill.

Steve doesn’t even get a chance to ask how Eddie and Jack met before Robin’s appearing with the burgers and hot dogs. It’s fine. He’ll ask later. He might not even need to know. It settles something inside him to know that Jack knows about him. That Eddie talks about him to Jack enough for Jack to have constructed a version of Steve in his own head.

He think he’s finally made peace with whatever was going on in his head involving Eddie and Jack’s friendship when he catches the moment that makes his stomach drop.

It’s later in the day, moving onto evening. Everyone is out of the pool but still lounging around it. Steve finally been allowed to remove himself from behind the grill because everyone’s full and they’re out of burgers anyway. Steve is coming back outside, having gone in to grab himself, Eddie and Jack a beer each.

He doesn’t catch what Jack said. Just Eddie’s reaction to it. A reaction he’s never seen Eddie give anyone but him.

Eddie’s face pinkens and he drags a lock of hair in front of his face to hide his immediate smile, only releasing the strand once he’s got his smile under control, wrestled into a closed mouth grin that does nothing to hide his joy. And then. Then Eddie’s face does something Steve has seen a thousand times, but never at this angle. Never at this distance.

Maybe it’s because it’s from this distance and angle that Steve’s able to really see it.

Eddie looks smitten. Infatuated. Lovesick.

Steve feels his stomach drop and his first thought is ‘I’m too late’ which is instantly followed by ‘wait, what? Late for what?’

Forget stomach dropping. Steve feels like the whole floor has dropped out from beneath him and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t be surrounded by all these people who know him too well. If they look at him, if anyone see him, they’ll know. They’ll know what Steve’s just figured out from one second to the next and he can’t- he can’t deal with that.

Somehow he forces his legs to move. It’s like he’s outside his own body as he approaches Eddie and Jack. He hands over the beers he grabbed them and makes some excuse to go back inside. He’s vaguely aware that Eddie takes a single step towards Steve, as if to follow, but Jack stops him with a single brush of the back of his hand to the top of Eddie’s arm and Steve books it.

He’s such an idiot.

His feelings from earlier, from when he was talking to Robin, just click into place. Of course it didn’t feel like the fear of losing a friend.

It feels like how he felt when he realized Nancy had feelings for Jonathan instead of him anymore.

Heartbreak.

Robin finds him on the floor on his bedroom sometime he couldn’t quantify later, wedged between his bed and the wall, still clutching a now room temperature beer can.

“You okay Steve? Been in here a while,” Robin asks in a tone of voice that suggests she knows he’s very much not okay but will let him pretend to be right now if that’s what he needs.

He loves her for it.

“I hate Jack,” Steve says, quiet and flat.

Robin makes a humming noise as she settles on the floor in front of him on her knees.

“I hate Jack because Eddie likes him.”

“Well, we did already discuss your inability to share friends.”

“No. Robin,” Steve says, voice taking on a pleading tone. Begging her to understand without him having to say it. “I hate Jack because Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and I think he used to like me the same way, and I hate Jack.”

Robin’s brows furrow before springing up to her hairline. “Oh. Oh! Steve, oh…” and then she’s grabbing for him, tugging and pulling and adjusting until she’s got him in her arms and half in her lap. They don’t say anything else for a while. Robin runs her hands through his hair and Steve clings to her like a child.

Robin leaves briefly to let everyone know Steve’s not feeling good and to lock up behind them when they go.

July 21, 1987

All in all, Steve handles his gay crisis like a champ. Or so says Robin. It’s easier than he thought it would be. He’s had time to process that being queer isn’t wrong, what with having Robin, Eddie, and Will all out to their group and he’s always been good at adjusting to change.

What Steve is handling with considerable less grace (so says Robin) is the pining. His crisis quickly evolved from oh my God I want to kiss a boy to oh my God I’ve missed my chance to kiss Eddie and Robin keeps rolling her eyes about it. Which is rude. She’s being rude.

Even if Steve is driving Robin up a wall with his moping.

“Just tell Eddie you want to kiss him,” she hisses under her breath to his during the overlap of their shifts. She opened and he has to close, but from 4-7 they work together. The store is currently empty, with it being a Tuesday and therefore a slower day. “You’ve never had an issue asking someone out before. You did it all summer at Scoops even though all you did was get rejected! And all last years here, and you didn’t get rejected.”

“This is different!”

“Pretty sure asking out a boy isn’t all that different from asking a girl. There’s only so many ways you can say ‘wanna go to dinner and a movie with me’, y’know?”

Steve groans and drops his head onto the counter by the register. “That’s not what I meant, Robs.”

Robin lets out a world weary sigh and he hears her leaning herself against the counter on the customer side in front of him more than he sees it. “Enlighten me then. What makes this different?”

“Other than you, I’ve never asked out a friend before. And honestly, if I hadn’t still been a little under the effects of whatever we were drugged with, I wouldn’t have. There’s, like, something to actually lose if a friend says no,” Steve mumbles into the countertop.

“Well, Eddie’s not going to say no, but, like, even if he did, he’s not going to stop being your friend,” Robin says and he feels her hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It’s Steve’s turn to heave a sigh. She’s not wrong. If Eddie’s still into Steve, and Steve’s not convinced he is, then it’ll be the easiest date Steve’s ever set. He asks, Eddie says yes, they go on to live happily ever after or something. What Steve’s more afraid of, the option he thinks it more likely, is that Eddie’s over pining after Straight Steve Harrington and has moved on to Jack of Unknown Sexual Orientation and if Steve asks Eddie out, to dinner and a movie or to the fair at the end of the week or whatever, Eddie will tell him ‘sorry but no. I used to like you but you took too long to catch on and I’m over it now. We can still be friends though’ and Steve will have to say ‘oh, yeah, no of course. Friends is great. Love being just friends’. Then they’ll both avoid each other, Steve to nurse his broken heart and Eddie because that’s just what you do when someone confesses they like you but you don’t feel the same because no matter what anyone says that’s awkward and you’re left feeling a little bit like an asshole for rejecting someone and-

“-eve! Dingus!”

Steve pops up off the counter, pulling himself from his thoughts. “What?”

The look Robin levels him with his decidedly unimpressed. “Whatever you were just imagining isn’t going to happen.”

“You don’t know what I-”

“I know we haven’t actually melded into a single person, but we are the closest thing a pair of humans can get to it. I don’t need to know exactly what you were imagining to know you’re wrong.”

Steve frowns. “What if I’m not?”

“What if you are?” Robin shoves off the counter. “We can have this conversation all day until we’re blue in the face. How about this. You don’t have to ask Eddie out, but at least come out to him. Then you can gauge his reaction. Watch as he lights up with hope or joy or whatever.”

He snorts a laugh at that. “Maybe.”

He spends the rest of his shift thinking about it. It’s a scary idea, saying it outloud to anyone besides Robin, but it’s also not scary. Because he knows it’ll be okay. Three other people in their weird little friend group are out and the world didn’t end. Though, when faced with real life monsters, near death experiences, and the world almost ending, being gay is probably the least of anyone’s concerns.

Midnight finally rolls around and Steve closes down the store. He’s going to sleep on it, but he thinks he is going to come out to Eddie. Even if nothing comes from it, even if Steve’s left pining forever, at least it might be nice to just let Eddie know. Queer Solidification, or whatever the word is that Robin uses.

July 23, 1987

Once again, Steve turns up at Eddie’s place unannounced. There’s a motorcycle parked out front of the trailer and Steve just knows it belongs to Jack.

He should have called. Made sure Eddie was here alone before coming over. He’s okay with coming out to Eddie, but not Jack, too.

Even so, he parks along the motorcycle. Turns the car off. Sits in it for another ten minutes, waffling between leaving and staying before finally unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing from the car. He’s going to do this tonight. Robin leaves back to Chicago for school mid-August and if this goes the way he thinks it will, he’s going to need all that time with her before she leaves.

Might also need the time between now and then to search for apartments to follow her there so he doesn’t have to stay here in his humiliation.

The porch is complete now. Steve never got around to telling Wayne he’d help with it. Too late now.

Steve pulls the screen door open, stepping in front of it so his body keeps it out of the way.

Knock knock knock.

Three quick hits to the door and he waits. He’s doing this.

The door opens just enough for Eddie to peak around. He looks a bit on edge at first, then his face smooths into an easy smile when he sees it’s Steve. “Oh, hey. Checking on Max again?”

“Uh, no. Here for you, actually. If that’s okay?”

“Um. One second,” Eddie says, closing the door again. Steve feels like his stomach is trying to climb up his throat. God, what if Eddie can’t talk tonight? Steve might just start looking for apartments anyway. Better safe than sorry.

An eternity (less than a minute) later, Eddie opens the door again, this time all the way. Steve steps inside before he really thinks about it. It smells like weed in here, so Steve knows what they were up to before he knocked.

He doesn’t want to have the conversation outside where anyone can overhear, but he doesn’t want to have it in front of Jack either. Jack, and the other stranger on the couch next to him.

Fuck.

“This is Steve,” Eddie introduces. “You know Jack. This is Lee.”

Lee is sat on the couch next to Jack, leaned against the armrest. He’s dressed like a toned down version of Jack. Still in dark clothes, but considerably less accessories. He’s handsome, too, with a rounder face and almond-shaped dark eyes.

“Hi,” Steve says.

“Hey,” Jack and Lee say at the same time, with Jack lifting a hand in greeting.

Eddie takes a step towards the couch, probably to plop down in the spot he was previously in, but Steve shoots a hand out to grab Eddie’s arm and halt his movement.

“Um. I actually. I just came to tell you something.”

“Well, alright. Shoot,” Eddie says.

Steve looks to the strangers on the couch before looking back to Eddie. “Privately.”

Eddie frowns, just for a moment, before his face smooths over and he shrugs. “Alright. We’ll be back out shortly,” he tells Jack and Lee before pulling his arm from Steve’s grasp to head down the hall to his bedroom.

Steve shuffles after, feeling awkward suddenly.

Eddie pushes the door open, then stands in the doorway like he’s holding it for Steve. Steve squeezes by him, his entire arm brushing against Eddie’s chest and stomach and just that little contact makes Steve’s stomach swoop.

Jesus Christ he’s got it bad, doesn’t he? How hadn’t he known that he had a crush on Eddie until recently? How had he been so blind?

The door clicks closed.

“So, what is it Steve?”

Steve stands in the middle of Eddie’s room. It’s messy, but not to dirty. There are clothes scattered about, and clutter on every surface, but Steve knows that Eddie knows where everything is. That if Steve knew what to ask for, Eddie would know where to find it in the chaos.

“I- um. Wow. This is harder than I thought it’d be,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair as he turns to look at Eddie. Which is a mistake. Looking at Eddie isn’t going to make this easier. Not now that he knows he wants to cup his face, and kiss those plush lips, and run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie’s so fucking hot and once again, Steve’s left to wonder how he missed it.

“What is? You okay, dude?” Eddie asks, taking just one step closer. Like he wants to comfort Steve even when he doesn’t know what he’d be comforting Steve for.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Um. Kinda fucking scared but not- uh, not in a bad way?”

That gets a little laugh out of Eddie, and it’s wonderful. Eddie has a wonderful laugh. Why did it take him so long to realize?

“Scared but not in the bad way, huh. Like when you watch a horror movie or go to a haunted house?”

“No. No. More… more like making a big life decision.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking at him before his brows pinch together and he looks down, eyes on the floor instead of Steve’s face. It makes Steve feel like he can take a deep breath for the first time since enter Eddie’s room.

There’s a noise from beyond the door; it makes Steve jump. Eddie turns to look over his shoulder, like he’ll get x-ray vision and be able to see what made the noise through his own closed door. “I think they went to the porch for a cigarette.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. How- How did you meet Jack and Lee?” Steve asks, which isn’t what he came here to learn but the question has been plaguing him since he learned of Jack’s existence.

Eddie shifts. Uncomfortable. “At a bar in Indy. Why?”

Steve shrugs. “I was just curious. We didn’t go to school with either of them so you know…”

“No. I don’t know. Steve, what did you come here to tell me?” Eddie sighs, like he’s already had a full conversation with Steve in his head and didn’t like the outcome. Steve hates that he can’t just understand Eddie the same way he can Robin. Eddie is a mystery.

Eddie is a mystery, and Steve doesn’t want him to be. He wants Eddie to tell him everything about himself. Every little secret he keeps. And he wants to do the same. He wants Eddie to know everything there is to know about him, even if Steve isn’t sure there’s a whole lot to know about him.

God. Robin’s right, as usually. Steve’s not just going to come out to him. He’s going to tell Eddie he likes him.

“Right. Yeah. Umm, so. So it’s like this. You missed movie night at the beginning of June and-”

“What!?” Eddie sounds amused and offended, and Steve ignores him.

“-and like, ever since then we’ve been hanging out less and less. And like, that’s fine. You have your own friends, like a whole other life that doesn’t include me, and that’s fine. Great even. But, like. Okay. So, I dropped in unannounced and learned you had a new friend that I didn’t even know existed. Which is, like, normal. I’m not your keeper, I don’t need to know every little thing about you.” Steve is pacing in Eddie’s room and Eddie is looking at him like he’s gone insane, but he kind of feels insane right now so that’s fine.

“But, here’s the thing. You told me that jacket belonged to someone else and I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it! That you had a friend who I didn’t know that was a close enough friend to leave things in your room and I just… Robin says I’m not good at sharing my friends. That it’s fine if I make friends and that friend already comes with other friends. But if that friend makes a new friend, that I’m not good at sharing. Does that make sense?”

When Steve turns to look at Eddie again, because he’s turned away in his pacing, Eddie has leans back against the door. Seems to be using it for support as he stares at Steve, eyes wide and confused. “No. Absolutely nothing you’ve said has made sense yet. Continue.”

“Oh. Um. Anyway, Robin told me I wasn’t good at sharing and she’s right. Because she’s always fucking right, and I was jealous. I knew I was, but it wasn’t, wasn’t until recently that I understood why. Because it didn’t feel the same. I didn’t feel jealous the same way I felt jealous when Robin told me about the friends she made in college, or back in high school with Tommy or Carol hung out with someone else,” Steve pauses, licking his lips nervously. “It felt like… like the night I saw Nancy and Jonathan together, back in junior year when Nancy and I were still dating. It felt like. Like that kind of jealousy.”

Eddie sucks in a breath but doesn’t speak, and Steve can’t seem to stop speaking, so he continues.

“Then I met Jack and he’s like fucking perfect. Fits right in with your friends and your look and he probably likes all the same shit you do and I don’t but I want- I don’t fit in and I can’t really stand how loud metal music is and I really don’t want to play your nerd game and I don’t match you, not like- not like Jack does but I saw you look at him, and it was the same way you used to look at me and I didn’t see if then, but I do know and I know this is kind of shitty. To not realize until you’ve already, like, moved on or something, and-”

“I haven’t,” Eddie speaks up and Steve’s attention snaps to him. Eddie’s looking at him with awe on his face and with disbelief in his voice. “Moved on. I haven’t. If you’re, holy shit, if you’re hear to say what I think -hope- you are, based on this absolute Robin Moment you’re having with your words.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Not now that Eddie’s interrupted. It was an absolute Robin Moment and she’s going to die laughing when he tells her about it, but he’s not thinking about Robin right now because it sounds like- it sounds like he’s not too late. “I- Eddie.”

Eddie shoves off his door and takes a step closer to Steve. “Steve. What did you come here to tell me?”

“That, that I’m like- that I like you,” Steve says, even though when he’s started that sentence he’d wanted to say he was some kind of gay. Half gay or something. “I like you, and I want to take you on a date.”

“Holy shit. Shit,” Eddie looks startled, even though Steve’s sure he already drew that conclusion in his mind. But thinking it and hearing it are very different. Eddie closes the distance between them but hesitates to actually reach out. “Shit, Steve. Like a real date?”

“Are there fake ones?” Steve asks, amused.

Eddie grins, shy, “yeah. I’ll let you take me on a date.”

He reaches out, placing a hand on Eddie’s hip and the other on his cheek. In a fit of bravery that surprises himself, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie nods and keeps nodding his head even as the distance between them closes, like he can’t help himself or stop. Not until their lips touch.

Kissing is kissing, Steve realizes. Kissing Eddie is no different from kissing a girl except that because it’s Eddie and that makes Steve want it all the more. Eddie’s lips are chapped and kind of shredded because he chews on his bottom lip, but Steve doesn’t give a fuck. Not when Eddie melts against him, into the kiss. Not when he finally touches Steve back, arms wrapping around him to pull him as close as possible.

They don’t pull apart until they’re out of breath.

“Is this real? I’m not hallucinating, right? The weed we smoked wasn’t laced with anything, I thought, but-”

“It’s a shared hallucination if you are,” Steve laughs.

“I can’t believe you were envious of Jack.”

“Jealous.”

“Semantics.”

Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him, and kissed him, and he’s agreed to a date.

Later, they’ll slink back out to join Jack and Lee. Steve will learn to tolerate Jack (as much as he can knowing that Eddie used to or might still have a crush on the guy) and find that he does enjoy Lee’s company. (Later that night, he’ll learn he never needed to worry. Jack and Lee have been a couple since they were both fourteen.)

And later still, he’ll take Eddie on a date to the fair, disguised as a group outing.

Robin is smug the whole time, but Steve doesn’t care because Eddie kisses him behind the Funhouse while she plays lookout.

[myromanempiree]

enchanting ; act one

(Previously titled; dreamers with no stars.)

Pairing; Eris x Archeron!Reader

Warnings: angst if you squint.

Summary: Your sister invites you to a ball, you meet an enchanting man.

"With all I've loved,

I loved alone"

-Edgar Allan Poe

....

To be isolated is to walk down the mahogany stairs of the House, trailing curious fingers down the barely textured, cream-colored walls. To hear the third step squeak when you place your weight on it, just on the left side. To walk down the endless hallways, filled with family portraits that seem to mock her existence with the words whispered in the back of her mind,  "you are lost, yet no one cares to find you.” To walk into the warm light of the kitchen to find everyone gathered around the breakfast table for some Saturday tradition.

Forgotten as Feyre and Rhysand dote over the bump that grows larger and larger with each day, forgotten as Nesta and Elain quietly converse, still adjusting to the crowd of fey, yet comfortable in their presence. Forgotten as Azriel makes an off handed comment that rials Cassian up, Mor grinning against the rim of her glass.

To be isolated is to walk to the counter to grab something to eat, only Amren sparing her a single glance, paired with a barely-there nod.

She slowly piles food onto her plate, before finding those same portrait filled hallways, the same cream-colored walls, the same mahogany steps, a new day, yet the same routine.

….

Hours pass as she searches the library, keen eyes scanning the leather bound books looking for a specific title that one of the priestesses had recommended. She pulls a book down with nimble fingers, before adding it to the pile of books for the week. 

She absent mindedly sorts through the books, eyes darting from the stack of books to the list she had made a few days ago. Her mind was much too focused on the titles to hear the soft shutting of the large doors, and the rustling behind her. It takes the woman behind her a few tries to pull her out of her focus, Feyre's voice growing louder as she repeats her name several times, before tapping on her shoulder.

“Yes?” She said, head slowly turning to glance at her sister. Feyre hums, circling the chaise and sitting down beside her. “I wanted to speak to you about something.” Feyre began, opening her mouth to speak before being interrupted by the woman next to her. 

“Is it about breakfast? I don't usually go anyways–” “No, no… its not about breakfast, I wanted to ask you to join us, Rhysand is hosting an event in Hewn City and… Don't make that face, Sea Lion.” Feyre said at the obvious distaste in her sister's face. 

Ah, yes… that nickname. Born from Nesta's teasing over a decade ago, due to her brief curiosity of the creatures after hearing of one from her fathers business partner, it was mocking at first, but morso a pet name as they grew older. Something she had never understood how her sisters could use something that was originally thought of as mocking now an endearment. 

She was pulled from her thoughts and  yet again as Feyre sighed, gently reaching out for her sisters hand. “It is very important to me that you go, I would like all my sisters to be there.” At her sisters silence, she nods. “Please, think about it.” 

Please was not a word any of her sisters used often, other than Elain, of course. Feyre must really want this, so she sighed, “I suppose  Ill attend.” She said softly, turning to her sister and nodding, looking into her eyes for the first time today.. Feyre thanking her hand skittering off, probably to tell Rhysand.

“Smile. You look like you don't want to be here.” Nesta said, looking amused as she sips from her glass. 

“I don't.” She responds, her sister sighing. “Neither do I, and I much less want to have to seduce that.” Nesta said, gesturing to a man in the crowd, speaking with Mor's father, Kier or something. The man turning to look behind him to the diadem, letting her see a proper peek at his face.

Oh, Mother.

There stood the most gorgeous man she had ever seen, cropped copper hair, high cheekbones that added an air of regality to him without making the man look haughty. Plump  lips pulled into the most self assured grin, showing his perfect teeth, keen whisky eyes examining the room in a manner that bordered on predatory.

 The moment those dazzling eyes met hers, she looked down to her glass, cheeks pinked. Unable to see his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, unable to see the urgency in which he looked away. 

She silently excused herself, moving to the clear balcony to catch her breath, not knowing whatever the feeling she held in her heart was. The thought slightly scaring her. 

She stays on that balcony for a long while, only parting with it when the still-new sensation of a presence in her mind. And Rhysand’s voice echos words into her mind. “Come to the diadem.”

….

She walked to the diadem, her midnight blue velvet down ever so slightly brushing against the floor as she steps into the spare spot in between Nesta and Elain, assuming that to be her designated spot. She stands there for a while, watching silently as the beautiful man walks up the stairs, conversing with the High Lord and Lady. 

What was said not registering as she gazes at the man. Something about him felt familiar, though she was sure she'd never met him. She only began to pay attention as he walked their direction, Nesta adjusting her posture to appear more sensual. 

She assumed this to be the part where Nesta seduced the man, which felt wrong to her, for whatever reason. However, yet he does not stop at Nesta, he moved past her to stand in front of herself. He stepped a stair below his current stature and bow, taking her hand to his lips and brushing them against her hand. 

The sensation setting a fluttering feeling off in her stomach. “What is your name, Lady Archeron?” The man asked her, tilting his head. As she introduced herself, and he introduced himself, she was led to the dance floor by the man– Eris. 

Eris. 

Her eyes find a mole on the side of his face, right below his right  eye, gaze trained on it as they begin their waltz. She claws at her brain to find the steps, yet cannot remember. Eris gently moves his hand to the small of her back, bringing here closer to him and leaning his face  against her neck as he whispers softly.

 “Follow my lead.”

It felt natural to do so. Even though Eris kept attempting to strike up a conversation, however, she was too focused on trying to not step on his toes and bring them to the ground to converse. The waltz came to an end, and she bows, her hands shaking. 

The walk back to the diadem was as silent as the rest of their interaction. She felt guilty for not being able to seduce the man, but regardless, was glad she was even able to waltz without falling and crashing into something or someone. 

She moved swiftly up to her sisters as shocking words ring in her ears. 

“I will offer you support, in exchange for her hand.”

a/n - I read this back and she's kinda autistic-coded, so I hope everyone is okay with that :)

Taglist;

@babypeapoddd @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @impossibelle @thestartitaness

comment if you want to join taglist!

[zombvic]

would you write one of hector fort and reader being in an argument and reader crying because of the accumulated stress and hector comforting reader afterwards pls

PLUS ONE (hector garcía fort x reader)

summary : in which hector gets invited to a team event, which comes with a certain challenge

face claim : no-one

notes : first time writing angst lol sorry if its soft but im a noobie

pairings : hector fort x reader , angst

HECTOR and I have been dating for about a year. Our relationship has been very low-key, with only our families knowing about it. We both agreed it was better this way—he has his fangirls, and I would assume they would go ballistic if they found out Hector had a girlfriend. Not even the Barca players knew; some, slowly caught on, but apart from a few REALLY soft, soft launches, it was basically non-existent to the public eye.

It was a typical Saturday evening when Hector came over to my apartment after a training, a bit more excited than usual. “Guess what?”

“What’s up, babe?” I asked, looking up from my phone.

“I got invited to the FIFA Football Awards event next month. It’s a big deal; all the top players will be there,” he said, sitting down beside me.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Hector! I’m so proud of you,” I replied, genuinely happy for him.

“And they said I could bring a plus one,” he added, his voice trailing off as he looked at me expectantly.

I paused, my excitement fading slightly. “Oh, that’s.. nice.”

Hector noticed the change in my tone and his brows furrowed. “I want you to come with me,” he said firmly.

“Hector, you know we agreed to keep this low-key. An event like that, with all the media and attention… it’s not exactly low-key,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, but it’s just one event. We don’t have to hide forever. Besides, I want to share this moment with you.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. Once we go public, things will change. People will start prying into the life of my family and I. I don’t want that kind of stress.”

“But I want to be able to be with you openly. It’s been over year. I’m tired of hiding” he argued, his frustration evident.

He got up and walked around the room. 

"So, why can't we do just one thing together? "I just want one, public, night together." 

"It never lasts a night. Today it's the awards; tomorrow it'll be something different."

"Where does it end?" I exclaimed, my voice rising as my anger increased. 

"I don't see why you're so against this. It's not like I'm asking you to do something really crazy." 

"I just want my girlfriend to be there for me, to support me." he said, his voice filled with distress.

"And I support you, Hector. Every. Single. Day, I offer you my whole support. However, this is not like usually. It isn't just about us. It's all about the media, fans, and attention.

"It's genuienly too much."

Hector paused while walking, his eyes softening. "I had no idea that was giving you so much anxiety. I just thought... Maybe it was time to announce our relationship, I don't know."

With a shaky voice, I took a deep breath. "Hector, it's not that I don't want to be with you honestly. It’s just that I’m scared. Scared of what will happen when everyone knows. Scared of the pressure, the judgment."

"I apologize for pressuring you. Im sorry. I just... I want you to know that no award or event is equivalent to how much you mean to me. I just wanted everyone to see the girl i adore and love so very much."

"You don’t get it, Hector. You're used to the constant focus on you and your loved ones. I'm not famous in any way, nor do I desire to be."

Hector's face fell, guilt and regret obvious and clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry; I should've taken your feelings into consideration. I just assumed that-"

“You assumed what? That I would suddenly be fine with our private life being exposed to the world?” I interrupted, slowly feeling the anger rise in me.

“I thought we could handle it together,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“But I’m not as strong as you think I am, Hector,” I said, my voice breaking. “I never cry, I never let things get to me. But this… it’s just too much. I can’t do it. What if they try to break us apart? It's so overwhelming. What if the media digs into our personal lives and spreads lies? What if your fans start hating me, or I say something wrong, and it affects you? The anxiety is eating me alive."

Feeling the weight of everything squeezing me, I shook my head. "Hector, I'm not as strong as you expect me to be. I can’t handle the thought of people judging us, criticizing us. With all this pressure, the idea of losing you is too much for me to handle."

"Hector, you just don't get it. You're used to being the focus of attention. However, I'm not. I'm more than scared, I'm basically petrified."

I looked aside, trying to cover my face as the tears I had been keeping back suddenly burst out. Hector stood there for a brief momentwatching me with a distressed expression. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. We don’t have to go public if you’re not ready. We can take our time,” he said, his voice gentle and soothing.

I leaned into his embrace, my sobs shaking my body. “Thank you. I just need time.”

He squeezed me even tighter and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "Take as much time as you need. I'm always here to support you. I love you."

The tension began to ease as we stood there, holding another closely. I knew that between us, we would get through this. That was the only thing that mattered for now.

first time ever writing angst hope its what you imagined while requesting 𖹭

[piichuu]

♡ FOOTBALL PRACTICES - ISAGI YOICHI

WARNINGS: not proofread, messy writing, fluff, gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 384

JUNE DRABBLES

you haven’t been able to watch one of your boyfriend football practices for a while due to school. but when you told him a little earlier today that you are free from the rest of the evening, he basically jumped up and down in excitement, telling you that he wanted you to watch his practice today. there’s nothing that gives him more motivation than seeing you there for him, even if it’s not an important game.

so here you are, sitting on the grass while isagi is running around on the field and shooting balls with his friends. there’s beads of sweat on his forehead and he’s breathing heavily every single time he stops for a quick second, but even when it’s not a football game, he is determined to do his absolute best.

his coach is yelling at some of his other teammates to run faster and keep focusing on what they’re doing meanwhile they’re growing more and more tired. they’ve been practicing nonstop for over half an hour and none of them seem like they have any energy left, except for isagi of course who could be running for hours.

it does however not take too long until the coach finally tells them to take a water break and get some rest for ten minutes before it’s time for the end of the practice. isagi is quick to get of the pitch to sit down next to you and wrap his warm and sweaty arms around your frame. “you seem to be in your top form today,” you smile softly while letting him press a few kisses to your cheek. “of course, you’re here with me,” he speaks.

he almost downs the entire water bottle in one go, looking at you with a smile on his face afterwards. “i’m happy you’re here, i hope you can come to my next game. it’s gonna be on saturday next week. you’re the best motivation i have,” isagi brushes a hand through your hair. “i’m really lucky.”

“i should be able to be there, it’s an important game after all,” you lean your head on his shoulder and intertwine your hand with his. “i’m happy that i get to be your motivation,” hearing that causes isagi to smile wider. “god, i love you so much.”

[estelle-petty]

Alternate “Love in Vain.” Cody doesn’t call. That’s it! That’s the fic! 😂

Rogue clonked her phone back in its cradle. “Don’t you hate it when you tell someone they got the wrong number, and they argue with you? I know I have a lot of characters floatin’ around in here,” she gestured at her head, “but I’m a hundred percent sure I ain’t Linda from the Yonkers Craft Expo.”

Gambit snickered with a look of pure engrossment, shaking his head in delight. “Indeed. Linda sound pretty boring to me.”

“Oh, I bet you think you could liven her up though, honey-tongue— the way you came in all gussied up to go out on the town.”

“We don’ have to go nowhere. You don’t even have to get out of your nightgown or put down your book, ‘less you want. A date can just be you an’ me in the same room.”

God, this man’s standards couldn’t get any endearingly lower. She puffed some fallen white hair out of her face. “Welp. You ever seen Baywatch? It’s kind of a guilty pleasure, like these Harlequin stories. Hnh. What am I sayin’. Of course you have. Men sure appreciate the um.” She rolled her eyes and made curvy gestures. “Casting.”

“Eh. That show irrealiste. Petty t’ieves always blowin’ up oil rigs or something. Nobody that dumb.”

“So your big takeaway from a show fulla bathin’ beauties is the shitty portrayal of crime?” she laughed.

“Oh, I see them beauties. How do you think I do all my trainin’ for look don’t touch?”

“You can always use more of that. Alright then. You, me, and bad TV it is.”

“Ey, what happen to your bedpost?” he asked, finally noticing.

“Trainin’ for knockin’ your dang block off.”

They sat on the rec room futon in the glow of the TV, under a blanket.

“Aw hell, this is one of those filler episodes with like three beach montages,” Rogue said.

“Yeah, I hate watchin’ people just enjoyin’ themselves,” Gambit winked. “You gotta have filler in life, chere. Can’t be all life-or-death drama.”

She looked him over. “The way you dress like Don Johnson on Saturday nights, I feel like we should be watchin’ Miami Vice reruns instead.”

“You love it.” He pulled off his scarf and draped it around her shoulders.

“Didn’t say I didn’t.”

And it happened—the long, hungry look that usually made her run. She didn’t, but she wasn’t above a quick subject change. “God, they use same underwater footage over an’ over.”

“Well, folks can’t hold their breath forever.”

She knew this wasn’t a dig at her, but she retreated into overthinking. “…you’ve been tryin’ for a few years with me, Remy.”

“Chere. Don’t. That’s never what this feel like.” He pulled her hand out from under the blanket and kissed it. “A barrier doesn’t phase me none. It’s you underneath. That’s all that matters. It’s the 90’s. Everyone big on protection, non?”

“Oh yeah, I’m blendin’ right in with today’s generation. …I-I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to stay off this topic, can I?”

The silence wrapped around them as the TV continued its soapy glow on their faces. Gambit didn’t realize that she’d mostly fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“You know why I like this show?” Gambit said. “I can relate, ‘cause Rogue always come to Gambit’s rescue.”

“…..mhm. Cuz iloveyou, caj,” she mumbled.

He exhaled hard. He knew the declaration probably didn’t count, but he clung to it like a life ring.

[pedripics]

PEDRI | Interview with RNE - Tablero Deportivo (june 22, 2024) - Translation

Pedro González, Pedri, very good morning. Few moments of Oasis are granted in a competition as short and as tough as this European Championship, but that's how we are on this Saturday. Qualified as first, relaxed, time to recover which is very important.  When it was known that Croatia and Italy were going to be the first two opponents, I imagine that it was difficult to imagine this situation now.

"Yes, it's clear. When you have those two opponents in the group, first you think that you're going to see how it's going to happen, but the truth is that I was confident in the team we had, in how we were going to get there. I think we had played very good games before coming to this European Championship and we are showing that we have a very good level."

Pedri, you don't know, well, I'm sure you're even happier, but you don't know how we're glad to see you so well after such a complicated year.

"Yes, to be honest, I am very happy above all. I have already said that I have worked hard to get here, to be well at the end of the season and I knew that the work was being done and in the end it was going to pay off."

But was there a time when you thought, well, this summer I have a long vacation or did you knew that Luis de la Fuente was going to wait for you until the end?

"Well, the truth is that Luis has always been interested in me, he has called me, I have had conversations with him when I have had setbacks, and he has told me to be calm. And well, there was always the doubt, in case I had another relapse, in case it could happen. But well, yes, I knew that if I worked hard and was well, I knew that I had the opportunity and the confidence of the mister."

I can assure you that this season all the Barça games we've commentated, which are all of them, we've always said the same thing. We ended with the phrase, let's see if in the end Pedri arrives with the best version for the Eurocup because I don't know if you are aware of how important you are for the team's scheme and for this team in general.

"Well, I do feel like an important player, it's clear that all of us who are here are important because it's complicated to decide the list for the coach and, well, until the last moment there were three players who could have been left out and it's clear that it's complicated to come to the Spanish national team, there is a very good level of players and we are seeing that every day we are growing more and more."

I think I told you that we had the opportunity to talk in Qatar in an interview during the World Cup and I told you about it but when we landed in Doha there were some huge posters of players and the one of Spain was your picture, it was the picture of Pedri. I don't know if the profile of Pedri, of the Pedri who came to the World Cup two years ago, is a bit different from the Pedri who today, because of the circumstances, because of the complicated season you've had, has taken you out of the spotlight a bit and that's been good for you, or did you want to give a blow on the table and say, look, I'm the same?

"Yes, exactly. I've always been the same. It's true that there are a lot of people who say that I'm not the same, but it's true that I have to keep getting into a rhythm to reach my best version, which is still to come. And above all, that's what I have to do, work to get my best in the next rounds."

Well, that's what I'm happy about. Because there is one thing that I think worries us all a bit, which is that we have started so well. You know that at the end of tournaments you have to go from less to more and I don't know if you can go any more after the great game the other day against Italy.

"There are a lot of people who say that, for example, you have to lose the first game, you're going to be champion or things like that. But that's what it is. I prefer to win and be more relaxed."

It scares me a lot to go in with nine out of nine. It's like in the Champions League. You say you win everything, then you never win the title.

"Well, I think it will be good for us to get there. Nine out of nine. That's what we're going for. We'll try to beat Albania and have those nine out of nine and then face the last 16."

The thing is that the Albania match. Well, it's good. The coach is going to give others a chance. I don't know if you already know, Pedri, if he has told you and you're going to rest or not. But well, Rodri won't be here because of the cards and there are people who are a little bit injured, it's logical that there should also be minutes for everyone because this is a great group, but there's a long week left for the real match, for the match of the last sixteen…

"Yes, let's see, it's clear that we're all looking forward to the last 16, but we have to focus on Albania. They're a complicated team who have made it quite difficult for the other teams and I remember we played a match against them at Espanyol's ground and they were a complicated team who made it difficult for us. I think we scored in the last few minutes and it's clear that it's not going to be an easy game."

Look, there are headlines after the other day's match against Italy, which I'll confess is one of the best things I've seen in football, not just from Spain but in football for a long time. “The national team dances to the rhythm of Pedri and Fabian. Spain gets gold from Lamine. The flanks with Nico and Lamine destroy an Italy that didn't even show up.”  Are we overdoing it? Are we getting a bit over the top?

"Yes, you've put a bit of magic into it, but well, when you win, it's normal for people to get behind you. We are seeing that a lot more people are supporting us. It's normal that at the beginning they come with more doubts, but well, we try to resolve them on the pitch and that they are with us."

Yes, that's it, that's it, the praise from the press, but for an opponent to say, as was said in the mixed zone, we knew they were better, but not that much better. I don't know if there's a bigger compliment than that.

"PEDRI: No, I don't think so, that the rival you played against says so is the biggest compliment you can have, because on the pitch it's a different experience. It's true that watching a game when you see one team superior to another you see it clearly, but on the pitch, to see that and say it is different."

I imagine the dressing room of the national team in the leisure time, when you're working and you're working, but it's kind of like a flea market and also when you're eliminating each other in ping pong and you're playing pool, well, hey, but there are conversations. Do you talk about this a lot? Hey Nico, you or Nacho, they tell me you're going to leave. Morata and they're throwing you the cane from I don't know where. Do you talk about this a lot?

" No, not really, there aren't many conversations about what our team is about, about the situation that each of us has. But well, sometimes if you ask him what you're going to be next year, how are you going to face it? But the truth is that there are very few conversations. Well, I don't know if the others talk about it, but I've had very few conversations about it."

So, you're not giving us any news with this, are you? Yeah, but I thought so. Hey, and another thing. You're the only national team that has the chance to be the first to win four European Championships, which is great. Are you thinking about these things when you're playing or there's that rumour that we're making good history?

"No, it's clear that we think about it, we've come to Germany to try to win the fourth. But on the pitch, you don't really think about it. You try to win that game however you can and that's it."

Hey, Manu, what a nice guy, very, very nice. The truth is that I see you more relaxed, which is something that is always cool, the season is different, the season is another thing, the selection... I think it changes your face. There are a lot of people you already know, but the atmosphere, everything feels completely different. Well, to begin with, the Federation is completely different from the coach as well, but you notice the joy that the younger players have given and you have very few, you are a kid. Has it changed the team a bit?

"Yes, of course. When young people come, they always try to joke around. When you see Nico and Lamine around, they're always joking and laughing. Fermín is next to them and well, it's different, because then you look, for example, at the other table and you see Nacho, Carvajal. People end up a bit more serious, some are laughing all day, but well, there's a bit of everything and I think there's a great group as I said. I think that's very important and you can see it on the pitch."

Listen, just like a card player, having a lot of options is good for you. For you, who is a playmaker, you look at one side, you see Lamine who is just 16 years old, you look at the other and you see Nico, that gives you life, right? This is playing with two wide-open wingers.

"Yes, it's clear. I think they're different from the wingers we're used to in Spain. They are two daggers on the flanks and well, it's much easier when you turn and see Lamine and Nico or the other ones we have. I think the others who haven't played are also at spectacular training levels and I think they can all do amazing."

Are you going to give Lamine a hand with his homework and stuff? I heard him in an interview the other day saying that he has to take time out for homework and exams and stuff like that.

"Math, I can help him, but if it's my turn in English, I don't know what I can do, hahahahahaha."

Hey, how are you doing with your German? Because I don't know if you've had time to pick up the phone and talk to the new coach. But I'm terrible at German, I have to tell you.

"I'm asking Dani Olmo about the German, but it's quite complicated. I think it's going to be easier for him to learn Spanish than for me to learn German."

If you put it in perspective, in 2021 would you have made a different decision, would you have said hey, look, I'll do this but not this? Or is the illusion of being able to play both tournaments so great that you would?

"If I would be in the same situation right now, in my first year in the elite, so to speak, Barça, Selección, I think I would have gone. I don't think I would have changed anything. Now that I have done it, because of what has happened, it happened, I got through it, I live and moved on to the next thing."

To finish this off. Do you have time to do something else? Discover the places you go to? In Italy, they have this controversy because they won't let them play the Play.

"We don't have time to go and discover the areas and things like that before the games and the free time, so to speak, we spend it playing the Play or watching the games. Now, for example, with Dani Olmo, I'm playing a tennis game on the Play and we spend a lot of time there."

Well, well, well, I like that. Well, the last one who sat in that chair (de la Fuente), the one you're sitting in right now. What a scolding he gave me when I told him that we lacked some of these stars, but what a good team we have, right? He called me a figurehead. Do you think Pedri is a star? Yes, yes, yes. Dani Olmo. You too. Yes. Can I say that or not?

"Well, of course they are. For me, the players in the national team are stars. They are all, apart from being spectacular teammates and spectacular people, they are cracks on the pitch."

Very good. So, this is as far as we've got with Pedri because time is running out. It's a pleasure to share a few minutes with you Pedri and let's see if there are still many weeks of competition ahead. A big hug. Pass it on to the team and thank you because you are making us enjoy it. Listen, it will end however it ends, but we're having a great time and that's priceless, my friend.

"De Nada. Let's hope we give the fans more joy and thank you very much."

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my sleeve

CH. 1

-----

So glad you guys loved the snippet last night! Here is the full fic! This is going to probably be a 2-3 chapter story. I hope it lives up to your expectations! Please interact and let me know!

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

*In this story, Rafe kills Peterkin after accidentally shooting Sarah

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader, toxic!rafe x reader

Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy, noncon, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, p in v sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, domestic violence

Playlist:

Braided by Emily Rowed

Highlights by Sasha Alex Sloan

Atlantis by Seafret

Upside of Down by SVRCINA

----

You'd had a mundane life until your dads affair came to light when you were sixteen years old. He'd met a women on a business trip flight, explaining it as a "connection he didn't have with Y/M/N." He'd explained his infidelities away by saying your mom paid him little attention, embarrassed him in front of their friends, belittled him, and said the love between them ceased to exist; solely because of your mom.

It wasn't like you knew the ins and outs of your parents love life as a teenager, but from what you saw - or what they chose to show you, didn't seem like what your dad made it out to be. But there are always 3 sides to every story, so who were you to judge?

Especially when you'd ignored all the warnings you'd been given to stay clear from Rafe Cameron, much less date him.

You'd began attending parties at his house during your freshman year of high school, and the playful flirtation between the two of you continued for a year before he finally made a move that the two of you couldn't come back from.

He was on the lookout for you every Friday or Saturday night, always a prepared favorite drink of yours ready in a red solo cup. He'd follow you around his house if not with his feet, with his eyes until one day his fingertips grazed your arm and draped down to your finger and tangled them together, showing to not only you, but everyone else around you that it was game over.

He'd taken you up to his room that same night and he ground his hips so deeply into yours that you were sure you lost your virginity that night. After telling your friends, who'd only laughed at your naivety, you realized you very much did not, and then you truly realized when the next Saturday night, he'd taken you to his room and peeled the clothing from both of your bodies and you'd connected as one. The way his fingers caressed your cheeks, your hair, your body, it was the biggest question in your mind why anyone would think Rafe Cameron was any bit the bad boy they had all made him out to be.

Talking about how quick to temper he was, how hot headed, how impulsive, how vulgar.

You had never witnessed any of that in your three years together. Whether he'd kept you at arms length or whether all it took was you coming into his life to change him, you weren't sure.

But today, Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.

The complete opposite, really.

Rafe had always gone out of his way to be the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend you could have wished for. Stealing kisses in the hallways before the bell would ring, making sure you were safely seated before padding off to be late to each and every period.

Bringing you flowers every Sunday night with your favorite pint of ice cream, and always keeping your bedside table stocked with your favorite genre books and your favorite sour candies.

Keeping his arm draped protectively over you at parties, tender kisses to your forehead when things got too rowdy, whisking you away for alone time as the crowd started to clear.

Caressing your body affectionately during intimacy, squeezing your skin just enough to leave gentle love marks, keeping you in his arms after bringing you over the edge, asking you if you were okay after every entrance, and after being too rough when he was extra needy.

Kissing you like he'd never see you again, holding your jaw in his palm and telling you how much he loved his beautiful girl.

There was no end in sight for the two of you, and after spending so much time together, your mom had asked to meet his dad. You didn't think any more of it than her wanting to know the man whose home you spent more than half of your days at. Your mom had become extra clingy after the divorce, and you tried to do what you could. Asking her if she wanted to watch her favorite show together on Tuesday nights, bringing home her favorite Chinese food on your way back from Rafe's on earlier nights. You knew the affair nearly killed your mom, but you did not expect her to begin to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.

Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.

But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table with Ward, your mom, Rafe, Sarah and Weezie, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.

You think your heart stopped at his words, and your neck snapped to your side to look at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else. His eyes flashed to yours, and above your head, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was.

That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand had slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.

Your whole body jolted when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision was already made for you.

You didn't even need to ask.

"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.

"Whatever we have going on? We've been dating for three years!" You practically shout.

"Y/N!" Your mother shrieks, "Have some respect!" And you can see the tears shining in her eyes, a mirror of your own. Ward'd hand squeezes your mother's tighter, and he whispers to her that "it's okay, honey, it's going to take a moment to process."

You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. Tears were streaking down your face now, your finger gripped to your napkin on your lap like you were suffocating it. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?

From that day on, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. You'd told him what Ward had told you, expecting him to scoff and tell you how he only thought he'd stay away from you. But that was exactly what Rafe began to do. Once you received the news, you and your mom were moving into Tanney Hill, your bedroom just across the hall from Rafe's. A bitter tease dangling in front of you. The love of your life, your best friend, your saving grace, so close but so far, sworn away from you.

Rafe started to become a hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. Loving him so hard physically caused your heart to ache, watching him from a distance fall away from you, and out of love with you felt like your body slowly shutting down. Like your brain was shutting off and the rest of your organs being deprived of the oxygen it needed to keep functioning. Your hands ached to touch his body, hold his hand in your own. You watched as he'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, seated on the living room sofa 90% of the night with Topper and Kielce, using his AMEX black card to line the cocaine before rolling up a hundred dollar bill and snorting into his left nostril, jolting his head back and pinching his nostrils as his eyes screwed closed, before opening back up and meeting yours.

You'd hold his stare until your feet walked you in front of him with your hands on your hips, brushing the beers to the floor and bending down to meet your eyes at the same level.

"Y/N, you want me to stop? What, to make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.

He'd shrug away from you, his shoulder harshly snapping back and his hand brushing yours off to leave you watching his hair fall over his eyes as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But this brutal coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.

He'd almost always wait by your closed door for you to sit up in your bed, his invitation that it was okay to come to you. But some nights, he'd be so impatient to touch you, the alcohol and drugs adding to his hunger to be close to you.

You had almost gotten caught a handful of times, whether it be Sarah or your mom, knocking because they were sure they’d heard something, Rafe nearly knocking over everything on his way to shuffle himself into the closet.

You’d put off the conversation with Rafe about why the two of you needed to continue on like this, but you knew Rafe would never willingly disobey his father, and when you told him that Ward had threatened to ship you off to California, Rafe told you there was no way that was happening. But this was before the drugs consumed all of his extra time, before he’d started picking fights with anyone who would dare to fight back, before he’d become a ticking time bomb. Now, you weren’t sure he’d care if you fell off the planet. Gone were the times he’d tell you how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, how he didn’t care about what his dad said, that you were his girl, and he’d fight for you.

That did happen after that night at the dinner table. When Rafe finally arrived back at Tanney Hill, he’d found you in the library with Ward, discussing things and when he heard the same words that Ward had told you, he didn’t dare to speak up. But when you were alone, he told you not to worry about it, that you’d be okay and it wouldn’t change anything. That you just had to be careful and wait until you were eighteen and you would get a place together and not need his dad or your mom and you could have your own lives. But that didn’t exactly happen the way you two had planned. With the hunt for the cross at the forefront of absolutely everything, everyone was on edge, constantly battling with one another, making decisions that you couldn’t come back from.

It came to a head when Rafe had accidentally shot Sarah, and he slithered through the front door of the estate covered in blood and mud and you rushed to his side to search for where it was coming from, the worry sweating out of your pores, until he grabbed your arms too tight for comfort and told you to stop. You rubbed your arms as he shoved you off to the side, before climbing the steps to his bathroom to clean up. Your eyes followed him all the way up, tears springing forward, before the noise behind you bringing you back and meeting eyes with your step father who would fill you in on it all. He’d told you how Rafe was not himself, how he was explosive and you needed to stay away from him at every turn. How he’d shot his sister, and that he didn’t care that he did. Your head lightly shook “no”, as the tears spilled over, splashing onto your chest as you broke down in Ward’s arms.

The boy you loved was seemingly gone, and not even his father could bring him back.

You’d seen the relationship between Rafe and Ward deteriorate, boiling over after Peterkin was killed. It was something you knew but couldn’t bring yourself to think about. There was only one reason Ward didn’t trust Rafe to do things on his own after she was gunned down. You knew Rafe had access to guns and you knew Peterkin stood in the way of your family getting the gold off of the island. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But would you ever ask about it? Never. Because that wasn’t the Rafe you loved. He couldn’t have done that. So he simply didn’t. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You remember back to that night in particular, nearly 2 months ago, after he’d cleaned himself up and Ward had asked you to bring his dinner up to his room. You cautiously hammered your fist onto his bedroom door, not even getting the second rap in before it swung open, the wind blowing back your hair and his face only inches from yours, his pupils blown and his hands on your arms, dragging you into the room with him. “Put it down”, he’d told you and you placed the tray with his dinner onto the ottoman in the corner of the room, before his hand turned your body back around to him, crashing his lips to yours while holding your hips, squeezing feverishly.

“Rafe, you’re hurting me.” You’d tried to say, pushing your body backward, his hands coming up to hold your lower back to drag you closer.

“Shut up.” He spun you both around before moving his hands to your shoulders to shove you down onto the bed, before running his hands up your calves and thighs, dragging your linen dress with them, all the way up until your breasts were exposed and his hands roughly squeezed them, earning a mumbled cry of pain.

“Rafe, stop!” Your hands gripped his wrists as you tried to pry them off of you before his hand came up and slapped you across your face. Your mouth hung open and tears sprung to your eyes and you brought your hand up to slap him back. His hands caught both of your wrists and forced them up by the sides of your head, before bringing his face down to yours.

“I fucking want you, can’t you see that? I need you right now, y/n."

“Fuck you, Rafe! I’ve been here this entire time!” You’re breath is a whisper but your seething at him and his chest is rising and falling rapidly, eyes boring into yours, tears brimming his eyes before connecting his lips with yours and letting go of your wrists to drag your panties to the side and shove two fingers inside you.

“Oh my god. Jesus.” Your head rises off the mattress to meet him now that he’s hanging above you, before wrapping your hands around his neck and dragging him back down to you and panting into his mouth. Breath hot, you tell him you need him too.

His fingers move in and out of you, curling to pet the spongey spot inside of you over and over, your voice mewling “please’s” and “oh my god, yes” until you hear him shuffling with his pants, and your feet come up to hook into the sides of his pants, helping him drag them down his legs.

“Please get inside me.” You beg, your voice a strained sigh of relief mixed with utmost pleasure as his fingers leave your core to replace them with his cock. Your whole body rises off the bed, your chest meeting with his, nipples like daggers against his skin as he sinks down until he bottoms out and he groans. You’re nearly positive the entire house can hear you, but after what’s gone on tonight that you have no idea about, you’re not sure anyone actually cares.

His breath is hot against your face, and he’s watching you with intensity you don’t know if you’ve ever seen in his eyes before, his hips pulling back only to push back twice as slowly, the glide of his cock in your slick heat pulling the deepest moan from your throat, and you moan the prettiest “oh” the thinks he’s ever heard. Your nails are gripping his biceps, now hooked under your knees, his palms by your head, thighs spread back nearly to your chest and you look down to watch him drag himself out of you achingly slow before he tells you to “look at me” and you do, your eyes meeting his and you’re both crying together, tears falling and noses dripping. Your pussy is throbbing and your hands are clutching, your mouth moaning and your heart dying.

You’ve continued this sick relationship with Rafe for a year, growing into adults together in the most backward way. Sneaking around, falling out of love, but staying so desperately in love with who he used to be, begging him to get clean, trying to understand him, keep him from killing himself, trying to mend the relationship between him and his father; or rather, trying to salvage what was left of it.

You couldn’t imagine stopping, though. You couldn’t give him up - not really, not the way you were supposed to. You would have been an embarrassment to the Cameron name if you had continued dating your now step-brother. Even though people were aware of your relationship prior to your mom and Ward getting together. Marriage precedes dating, and so they won the battle. You think that this was Rafe’s way of fighting for you. Or rather, fighting his dad for you. Because he’d taken you away from him, so instead of being an embarrassment to his father by dating his step-sister, he’d become the drug addict family fuck up instead. You knew the truth though. Rafe had never experienced love until you. And then his father took that away, just like he did everything else in Rafe’s life.

“You know I love you, Rafe. I will always love you.” You tell him, taking longer than intend to, your breath short and sad.

He doesn’t say anything back to you, but his hand catches your jaw and he brings your face to his, lips in a sneer. “You will always be mine. You can try to act like you aren’t, but you are. I fucking own you. I will always own you.” He tells you before kissing your lips. You pull back and grasp his wrist in your hand.

“I know you love me, too. Say it, tell me you love me. Fucking say it."

You feel him cum inside of you before he manages to say anything, remorse filling your blood stream and your eyes shut tightly at the bitter defeat. You’d allowed him into your body and your heart without him having earned any of what you’d just confessed. You know he knows you still love him, and you know he still loves you. But he’s tried his hardest to show you that he doesn’t.

You tremble, over sensitive when his fingers find your cunt and push back inside, watching you with intent as he lazily glides his cum back inside of you. He’s watching you almost like he’s studying you, his head tilting when your head tilts in a mix of desire and discomfort, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. You gush around him and he kisses you, lips hovering over yours.

“Of course I love you, my beautiful girl. How could I not love you? Miss you so bad it fucking hurts."

That night tipped the see-saw of back and forth between the two of you, caution to the wind, Rafe would come to you more nights than not, and he’d fuck you on your bed before telling you how much he loved you and slipping out before the sun rose.

“Gonna get clean for you.” He told you one night, and you nodded under his palm as he held you close, begging him. “Please, Rafe. I can’t be in this by myself."

So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night one year after your world truly blew apart, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he couldn’t keep his promise. You kept hold of his gaze until his knees hit the bed, your small hand coming up to his chest before he could press his own to your sturnum before pushing you down, your other hand clutching your lifeline. You look up at him and when you lock eyes, he understands, because he takes your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.

"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."

You want to yell at him, swat his hands away as they come up to cradle your face, but you’re too overwhelmed, too hormonal, too busy in your mind to do anything but melt into his warm touch, safe and protected.

His breath comes hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You can't stop the tears from falling, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your cheek tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he really does love you again.

How badly you missed him, too.

"Rafe, please..."

Your hand falls and one of his breaks from your cheek, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.

He doesn't react how you expect him to, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop. He sniffs, rubbing his nose, clearing any remains of his relapse out of your sight. His mouth opens before closing, brow furrowing as he snorts, a half chuckle, his hand coming up into his hair to rake his bangs back, scratching the back of his neck.

"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.

"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your heart?

"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby.” You tell him, seething before standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.

You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you

"I'm going to take care of it."

You raise your head from his hand and your eyes lock on his to question him. “What does that mean? Take care of it?” You’re suddenly timid, your hand instinctively coming to rest on your lower abdomen.

“They’re not keeping me from my kid, y/n. Fuck that.” He tells you, watching your eyes soften and thank god. Not that you would have been surprised if Rafe suggested you take care of it. Now that you have a moment to collect yourself, you realize it’s actually what you expected from him. Maybe not from the sweet boy who held your hand on the beach when you were sixteen, but from the man who stood before you now.

“You want this?” he suddenly asks you, and you look up at him after realizing your eyes are locked on his chest, and you tell him honestly. “I don’t know what to do with a baby, your baby…we - how can we keep this baby?” You whisper, eyes pleading wide and scared, suddenly full of fear and you try pulling away from him, but his arms lock around you and keep you steady to him as you huff with exhaustion. “Rafe, please let me go, I need to go, I…"

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay, baby I promise it’s going to be okay.” He tells you and you believe him, high or not, you cling to him, fingers tugging at his shirt, your tears and snot mixing together on the fabric, not caring how you look or how you sound, because what the fuck are you going to do now?

“Y/N, please don’t cry. I’m going to make this okay. I swear, I’m going to make this okay.” You look up and into the eyes of your whole world. The boy turned man that you so deeply love. Your boyfriend turned step brother. The one whose hands are bloodied from trying to protect his father who ripped everything away from him every chance he could. How can you believe him? Were you going to run away with a murderer who you’ll knowingly harbor for the rest of your life? What you don’t truly know will kill you - you know that. You know you’d pick up and leave this place - your mom included if it meant being with Rafe. You’d told him that the night he came back after the wedding bomb. But he couldn’t tell you the same, and so he’s ridden down this path of self destruction, danger, evil, and crime just to protect the one person who has caused him so much pain. And not only him, but you too.

You could handle being hurt by Rafe, and even by Ward. But you couldn’t handle the idea of carrying and birthing a perfectly innocent baby that was half you and half the wounded and hurting boy who just wanted to be loved by the only parent he had left. So only one question swirled in your mind.

Would he let his father cause your child pain, too?

——

Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me (part 2)- matt sturniolo

part one, part two

summary- matt has always hated your guts, but everything changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains- vampire!matt x reader, enemies to lovers, smut (not in this part), themes of death, dark themes, high school au! (18 yrs old)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

your pov:

i woke up with a massive headache, my chest heaving. the first thing i think of is matt.

what the fuck, why is he on my mind on a saturday morning.

i shudder at my own actions and throw my covers over my head as a phantom chill runs down my spine.“cant stay in bed forever” i sigh to myself, while throwing the covers off my body almost immediately after putting them back on. I march to my closet and change into my favorite running shorts. as soon as i step foot out of my house, i start to jog, the melodic tempo lulling me out of my morning funk. my peace is disrupted tho because out the corner of my eye, i see my neighbor walk out his house into his driveway. his eyes bore into mine before they rake up and down my body. my heart beat picks up slightly, and it’s not from the exercise.

my neighbor, kit, has been weirdly obsessed with me ever since he and his girlfriend broke up. about a week ago, i caught him snooping around our house at night, trying to get a peek into my room. after that i’ve been trying to avoid crossing paths, and i wasn’t planning on crossing them today. its fine, hes probably taking out the trash, i think, desperately trying to reassure myself. i speed up from a light jog to a full on sprint because i know that once hes out my sight, i will feel more comfortable. i sigh in relief when i round the corner to the next street in my subdivision, happy that i got away from him.

slap slap slap

his feet pound against the ground as he sprints to catch up with me. i whirl around once i hear the footsteps, and lock eyes with him. the accidental eye contact was enough to spur him to go even faster than his long legs were taking him before. my heart to drops and i turn back around, running on pure adrenaline and fear.

“Y/n, stop running and come talk to me!” kit yells angrily but i’m running far too hard to form a proper sentence. even if i wanted to respond to him i wouldn’t have the breath to do so.

“STOP PLAYING HARD TO GET. YOU KNOW YOU WANT ME Y/N. COME HERE AND ADMIT IT” he screams even louder. my head starts to pound and my mind reels trying to come up with a plan. i can’t run forever. i gather the little breath i have in me to muster up a scream in hopes someone will come help me, only for the air to be knocked out of me. i ran straight into something, no,

someone.

“get. the fuck. away from her.” the mystery man growls.

kit takes one look at him and slowly backs away in fear. “who the hell are you?” out of curiosity, i look up to see who i’ve run into and freeze.

matt?

no it can’t be. it looks just like him but his eyes are dark red, and dark black veins swirl under his pale skin like they have a mind of their own. “who are you?” i cringe as i repeat the same question kit did moments before, both our tones lacking a single ounce of courage. fear was all consuming as we stared at the monster in front us.

“you know who i am, y/n. get behind me. now. im gonna deal with him” he says gruffly while looking behind me at kit. kit whimpers at the sight of matts deadly stare.

i ignore what matt says, opting to look him up and down instead in a manner that screams “what the fuck is wrong with you”. but then, i try to think rationally for a moment, this is still matt after all. he may not like me but hes not gonna hurt me. right?

“what happened to you, matt?”i question breathlessly.

“you.” matt deadpans in a voice much deeper than his normal one, taking a step closer to me. he reaches his hand out to grab me. to take me.

“y/n get away from him!!” kit interjects and pulls me too him in hopes of trying to help me get away from matt. and for once, i’m actually glad kits here.

wrong move.

matt is in front of me in a flash. he snarles as he pushes kit with bone crushing force. his body goes flying, hitting a pole a couple of yards away with a loud thud, knocked out on impact. i shriek, terror filling my veins. as if sensing my strong distress, matt turns to me slowly. his arms out in front of him, in what is supposed to be a peaceful gesture.

hard to be comforting when your veins are as dark as your tattoos.

“y/n, we need to talk” the stranger, deeper version of matts voice says.

why can’t i move. im frozen in time as he takes slow steps towards me.

“you need to come with me, y/n.” he breathes out, his dark red eyes wide and crazed. he takes another step closer. my legs feel like jelly but i finally manage to take one step back. whatever matt is, it can’t be human. humans can’t throw each other several yards. their veins aren’t as black as midnight, and their eyes sure as hell don’t change to a deep red on command. so what does he, no, it, want from me.

“w- why do i need to come with you? ”

“because you’re mine” he growls, finally deciding to close the gap between us, faster than my eyes can process. he bends down and run his nose along the hot spot on my neck. he inhales deeply and moans in relief his black veins disappearing. i scream and try to push him off but its useless. he grabs my arm in a vice grip and pure horror spreads through my body for what feels like the 100th time today. i try to let out another scream but no sound comes out. my vision clouds and my head is spinning. then everything is black.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@fratbrochrisgf

@mattslolita

[ladylooch]

Afterthoughts and Misunderstandings - [Liv X Luca]

A/N: Part 2 of Liv and Luca's angst! ICYMI or need a refresh, part 1 is here.

Word Count: 3.2k

Although we understand school is a priority, we hope you are taking time to focus seriously on this next project. What you submitted today was nowhere near the quality of the writer that you are. We will chat more next month.

Liv scans over the words again in her parked car. Deep in the innards of her apartment building, embarrassed tears sting her eyes. The words came in an email from her editor. Two weeks ago, she submitted the first quarter of her book and the outline for the remaining pages. It was not well received by anyone on her support team. Their recommendation? Start from scratch. As if Liv hadn’t spent over 200 hours curating the pages she sent in for review.

Deflated doesn’t even begin to describe how she feels. 

Liv received the feedback in the Whole Foods parking lot. She had been gathered groceries and was getting off the phone with Luca as the email came zipping into her inbox. Luca had to run to a flight for the start of his East Coast road trip. It is still six days before he comes to New York to round out his road trip with both teams. Those six days are going to crawl by. Liv is in desperate need of his comforting arms, to feel his heartbeat beneath her cheek so she can forget the failure clutching at her throat.

She feels numb and distraught all at the same time while she rides the elevator up to her floor. The doors open. Liv pauses in the steel doorway, seeing Ryder Hughes slumped against her front door. His back is against it, head resting back toward the ceiling. One leg is curled into a bend with his wrist hanging off his knee. The other leg stretches across the hallway, almost consuming the whole width of the space. 

Liv has not seen Ryder since their almost kiss in this very hallway three days ago. She has been avoiding him. He knows it, so does she. But now he is here and somehow, Liv is expected to have this interaction when she just got dealt the biggest blow of her short writer’s career. 

Ryder hears the ruffle of her bags and turns his face towards her. He pops up immediately, jogging down to grab her bags. 

“I can..” Liv stops because Ryder has already taken all of them from her. “Okay.” She adjusts her keys in her hand, shoving them into the lock and opening her apartment door. Ryder follows behind, then goes to the kitchen to put her bags down. He immediately begins unloading them for her. “Ry.” 

“If I’m being helpful, you can’t kick me out.” He jokes, grinning as he pulls out some Liquid IV. Liv stands in the living room, looking back at him with cautious eyes. “I’m sorry. I was really out of line on Saturday. I can’t even use the alcohol excuse either.” Ryder pauses with a big grapefruit in his hand. He studies her with intense blue eyes. “Are you okay?” 

As is standard anytime someone asks her that, Liv immediately begins to cry. Because no. Nothing about what she is feeling in her body is okay. Her slender fingers come to her eyes. She presses into her black eyelashes to gather her tears, shoulders quivering with her impending sobs. 

“Livy.” Ryder murmurs. His arms wrap around her whole body, hands resting on her back ribs. He pauses, feeling her shake harder. His hands rub up her back. Then he presses his nose into the strands of her brown hair. Liv sighs heavily, which pushes her deeper into his body. She moves her hands from her face, winding them around his back to fully accept his hug.

They stay like that for several minutes. Ryder sways them a few times, rocking to soothe her sobs. Eventually, Liv sniffs, pulling back to wipe at her face. 

“Sorry.” She mumbles with downcast eyes.

“Hey, no need to apologize.” He assures her. His hands slide down to her hips, waiting as she collects herself more. She wipes under her nose with her palm. 

“I’m not having a good day.”

“I’ve gathered.” He responds supportively. “Tell me what’s going on.” Liv sighs, sniffling again. Slowly, she moves her eyes up to his face. His concern is evident, eyebrows pulled low over blue eyes and creases are forming in the corners of his frown.

“I suck at writing.” Surprise fills his face.

“News to me?”

“I do.” Liv slumps her shoulders down, looking away. Ryder squeezes her hips to keep her in place. “I sent in what I have for my second book and they roasted it. They think I should scrap it and start over!” Her voice escalates the longer she talks. “I’ve worked so hard on this, Ry. For them to think it sucks kills me.”

“So tell them you’re not doing that.”

“What?”

“Tell them you’re not scraping it. That you believe in the direction of your work and you’re going to see that through.” 

“It isn’t that simple. They have a say in what I produce.”

“Fuck that, Livy. Your first book was all you. That is what your audience wants to read. Your voice. Not 10 people in a boardroom who have a different vision. Write it your way.” Liv tucks her bottom lip into her mouth, rolling her tongue against it.

“I don’t think I am brave enough to do that.”

“You are. You have already proven that. You are already a published author. That is the bravest thing I have ever seen. Creating and letting people consume it. You’ve got big balls.”

“Big balls?” She laughs, shaking her head. 

“Sorry, it was the quickest analogy that came to me.” He reaches up, smoothing her hair down the sides of her face while cupping her damp cheeks. “You are amazing. Your work matters. I’m really proud of you.”

Awareness of everything hits Liv at once. The smell of his cologne goes up her nose like the other night. His warm palms transfer heat into her cheeks. Their faces tilted inwards to each other. Conflict begins to writhe in Liv’s stomach. The push and pull of what she knows and has with Luca and the curiosity of Ryder. His gaze surveys her face, then with a heavy sigh, he steps back from her completely. Liv stays glued in place. Ryder returns to the counter, unpacking more of her groceries.

“Go change.” He says without looking at her. “I’ll keep doing this.” 

Liv nods, even though he doesn’t see, and walks to her bedroom. There, she pulls on loungewear- a plain t-shirt, her dad’s Swiss hockey sweatshirt along with a pair of Lio’s club team sweatpants he wanted to get rid of when they still lived in their home in Switzerland. The comfort of the familiar, worn cotton blankets her skin. She goes to scrub off her makeup, then presses a cool washcloth to her eyes and cheeks to relieve the redness from crying. 

She returns to the living room, finding Ryder watching TV on her couch. He has taken off his shoes and jacket, tossing them by her entryway bench. There are two cups of tea steeping on the coffee table. He greets her with a small smile. Liv goes to the other side of the couch, curling her feet up next to her butt. The movie on the screen is Barbie starring Margot Robbie. Liv smiles.

“Thought this would inspire you a bit.” He shrugs. He is right, it does. So much so that she decides she isn’t going to tell anyone else about the feedback. Because they’re wrong about what they said. Ryder is right- this is hers. She can create whatever she wants because she has already done this before. This is her creation, her baby, hers to flop or soar with. She will use her gift with words to tell her publishing team to shove it. 

The sunsets over the city. Barbie ends and they ordering big bowls of pasta to share for dinner along with tiramisu and garlic bread. They decide to watch another movie once they are finished eating. Ryder picks this time, some Netflix original that is supposed to be a thrilling and wicked twister.

Partially through the next movie, Ryder’s hand moves over to Liv’s foot. His thumb works deep presses into the arch of her foot then into the big pads below her toes. Finally, Liv surrenders both feet into his lap. He works them over until she is asleep next to him. Ryder finishes the movie, then clicks the TV off. Darkness absorbs Liv’s apartment. The moonlight splices across her cheek, nose, and slightly open mouth. She looks at peace for the first time since he saw her in the hallway. 

Gently, Ryder gathers her into his arms. She curls into him in her sleep, gripping his shirt and nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. He puts Liv in the center of her unmade bed, another clue at how tumultuous she has been the last few days. She always makes her bed. Liv slides her feet under the covers. Ryder grabs the edge of the comforter, concealing Liv beneath it. Her hand reaches out for his wrist as he rubs her head goodnight.

“Stay.” She murmurs groggily. Ryder hesitates. The room gets so quiet that Liv wonders if he snuck out and she missed it in her sleepy haze. Her blue eyes open, seeing Ryder standing next to her bed, frozen with indecision. 

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” She sighs, flipping open the other side of the comforter. Ryder cautiously walks over to her dresser. He grabs a pair of sweatpants of hers that he knows he fits into because they used to be her brother’s. He changes fast, then maneuvers under the covers. Liv stays curled on her right side, but reaches her hand back. Ryder laces their fingers together. Quickly, Liv’s hand goes limp in his signaling she is asleep. 

Ryder is up for hours, watching and listening to her breathe next to him. He is just falling asleep when Liv rolls over in her slumber. She finds the warmth of his side, curling into him and sighing. Her hand comes to his stomach, anchoring there with a light grip, right above his belly button. 

He looks over at her. Dark brown hair splays across her pillow. Her breathing is light, lips perfectly plumped, and he becomes aware of exactly how fucked he is.

Because he is in love with Luca Fiala’s girlfriend.

And there is no way in hell she loves him back.

- - - 

The following morning, Ryder and Liv awaken around the same time because of trucks honking outside her bedroom window. Liv opens one eye first, taking in the sleepy hockey player as he wiggles himself awake. 

“Mmm, hi.” He mumbles, putting his nose on her bicep and sighing. “Don’t wanna get up.”

“Yeah.” Liv sighs, putting a lazy hand in his hair. For the next half hour, they doze in and out of sleep together, staying in the same position. Their legs are resting by each other. Their warm skin collects pink from each other’s body heat. Then, the reality of needing to join the world settles over them with Ryder’s daily practice alarm. 

“I gotta get moving.” He mutters, resentful of having to leave her bed. 

“Me too. I have class.” Liv yawns loudly, then rolls to her back, separating them completely.

She reaches for her phone, seeing a handful of texts from Luca. She glances at Ryder as he stretches at the side of the bed. His sweatshirt rides up considerably, showcasing his muscular body in the soft morning sun. A happy trail of dark hair disappears beneath the waistband of his clothes. Liv’s eyes drift down, seeing the maroon and gold M on his left thigh. 

Liv freezes, realizing he is wearing her boyfriend’s pants. Betrayal chokes her throat. What is she doing? This is so inappropriate. Everything about last night was inappropriate. God, she yelled at Luca for having another girl in his bed while he slept on the couch. She invited Ryder to sleep with her last night. Panicked, she slowly sits up, pulling out the rest of her disheveled ponytail. 

“Want to meet up for lunch on campus? I still dream about that Italian deli you took me to.”

“I can’t.” She says, keeping her back to him. She works her hair back into a fresh pony tail, raking her fingers through the ends for a quick brush.

“Oh okay.” He clears his throat. “Maybe later in the week.” 

“Luca is coming into town.” Liv stands, pulling her sweatshirt down so it covers her body completely. She folds her arms over her chest. 

“Yeah, I know. He is coming to play me.” He chuckles. “But that’s not for a few days.”

“Well, I have to get things done before he gets here so I can spend time with him.” A twitch flickers close to the hinge of his jaw. Ryder sighs, running a frustrated hand over his face.

“What is happening right now?” She shrugs back at him. Ryder’s hand falls, slapping the gold outlined M on his thigh.

“Can you take those off please.” Ryder looks down, seeing the same logo. In the morning light, it is clear these were not the pants he thought he grabbed. He thrust the waistband down, then strides to where his jeans are still pooled on the ground. He wrestles them up his thighs and his belt closed. 

“Liv, nothing happened last night.”

“It doesn’t feel that way to me.” She holds her throat, looking terrified back at him. 

“You invited me into bed.” He says slowly, resenting the way she looks at him. Like he crossed a line. 

“That was a mistake.” 

“We’ve been making a lot of mistakes lately…” He rambles off, putting his phone in his pocket. 

“This has to stop.” Liv practically begs.

“I don’t want it to.”

“Ry, please.” Liv closes her eyes, inhaling heavily as her nostrils flare from distress. 

“Livy, I’m in lo-”

“Stop!” Liv yells. Her heavy, terrified panting fills the room. “Don’t say it. You will ruin this.”

“It already is ruined. Because I love you.” 

Liv goes rigid except her quivering bottom lip. Because I love you, because I love you, because I love you. It plays in a loop over and over again, drowning out the city noise below, running through her brain like the ticker in Times Square.

“I wish you didn’t.” She hisses through gnashed teeth. 

“Me too.” He confesses, then walks out of her room. 

In his wake, he leaves Liv and her entire world lopsided.

- - - 

The ticking of the light blue clock on Liv’s desk fills the living room. Liv has been trying to work on her paper for two hours now, but her thoughts keep drifting to Ryder and earlier this morning. Guilt scratches and mars at her consciousness until it becomes impossible to make progress on her school work. For the fifth time in an hour, she tosses her pen from where she was trying to handwrite her outline. She looks over at her phone, seeing it light up with another text from Ryder. She swipes across his name, muting his notifications for the day. 

She doesn’t want to talk to him.

She needs to talk to Luca, but he is at morning skate in Buffalo. 

Worst case, she will tell him before his game against the Islanders. Liv knows this is less than ideal timing, but she owes him an explanation. From her, not anyone else. 

She opens her phone, texting Luca again to call her as soon as he can. 

Liv waits for his call the entire day, altering her plans with her brother to make sure she is home and ready for the difficult conversation they are going to have. But Luca’s never arrives. Not after practice, or after his pre-game nap, and now she watches him on the screen in Buffalo, again without a care in the world. 

How does he keep doing this with her? How does she line up last to everything in his world when he rules hers?

In frustration, she flips the game off after the second period. The Wild are down by one, but her mood is not in it for the night. Instead, she takes a self-care shower, smearing on her skin care, snuggling into bed to read her book, before tossing her phone on sleep mode.

He won’t call anyway, she lies to herself. 

The next morning, she has a handful of text messages from him and about thirty from Ryder.

Hi baby, I’m so sorry I didn’t call yesterday. Things have been crazy. I’ll tell you about it when I see you. I love you! Goodnight 😘

I wish you were here, baby, I can’t sleep without you. I’m having withdrawals. 

Heads up, I am on Amazon passing the time. Can’t sleep. Pray for my credit card. But, I needed a new screen protector for my phone. I ordered one to be delivered to your place tomorrow morning. Can you bring it with you to the game? Thank you! I hope this doesn’t wake you up 🙈

This furrows her eyebrows. Why wouldn’t she bring it to him tonight? When she sees him for dinner?

Good morning 🥱 Yes, I’ll grab the screen protector for you. But I thought I was seeing you tonight? 

Luca calls her immediately. She stretches, then clicks the button, murmuring a sleepy hello.

“Baby, I have bad news. Please don’t kill me.” 

“What?”

“I am not going to make dinner tonight. Mandatory team building. We are going to dinner and a concert at MSG. But maybe we can get coffee tomorrow morning?”

“I have classes.”

“Well, could you skip them?”

“No, Luca. I can’t. I have a group presentation and a test in the next class. Also, I don’t appreciate you asking me that. I don’t tell you to skip morning skate when I’m in town because I understand hockey is your job.”

“Whoa, okay. I was just asking.”

“Well, don’t. What I am doing is just as important as what you’re doing.”

“Baby, I never said it wasn’t.” He says defensively. 

“You literally…” Liv trails off, running an annoyed hand through her hair. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry.” He tries. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just miss you.” Misses her but won’t make time for her when they’re in the same city. It’s hard to swallow that right now, even as she tries to understand that there are some obligations he cannot miss. 

“I know.” She fills in. 

“This is shit timing, but we are about to get to the rink for practice.”

“You’re skating in the morning of a back to back?”

“Yeah. Did you watch last night?”

“Um, I fell asleep.” She admits sheepishly. 

“That’s okay. We did too.” He jokes. “It was bad and this punishment is well deserved. I gotta go, babe.”

“Hey, wait, I need to.. uh… talk to you about something.” She says, picking at a snag in the comforter with her blue nail. 

“Okay, can we talk after the game?” Liv hesitates. 

Future her would smack her in the face if she could. But present Liv doesn’t see the issue. 

So she agrees.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Okay, I love you baby.” He murmurs sweetly.

“I love you too.” She responds, having no idea what the next 48 hours will bring.

[yellowocaballero]

obito fic 👀?

HELL YEAH BABY. HELL YEAH. I HAVE JUST POSTED THE 70K OBITO FIC GO READ IT.

Naruto. Man. Very treasured aspect of my childhood. I've written a few fics now that are about an influential childhood media or character, and they always have such a unique quality about them. But I love my BAMF!Sakura fics so much. You Call This A Utopia is for her.

I talk a little bit about the specialness of that useless little girl in the author's note, but #justiceforSakura has always compelled me - on one level, just such wasted potential as a character, but on another level, it was one of my very early frustrations with sexism in writing. I wanted to live vicariously through her, to use her as a self-insert power fantasy like all the boys got to do with all the male Naruto characters, but even if she's a chakra master (!) and genius doctor (!!) who can wreck mountains with her fists (!!!) she was never quite able to make the tween girl readers feel special, because she was never valued. BAMF!Sakura fics were how I was able to have my little kid power fantasies in my favorite good-bad shonen. Today, if I'm reading BAMF!Sakura fic I am spiritually watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating sugar cereal and crying.

I didn't have very strong feelings Obito until I read butter_peanut and realized that one could hypothetically make him the most fascinating fucking character. Naruto fic writers are so creative and magnificent and better than Naruto. I do vaguely remember Tobi being my favorite Akatsuki character, because he had so much personality and was a lot of fun after Naruto got kinda serious. butter_peanut having Tobi say the word "bestie" truly inspired me. After writing him I now understand them completely, because I have happened to discover that he is the funnest fucking character.

I feel insane. Like a precious few people know and understand that Obito is so much fun to write. I love writing insane people and we know this but Obito is truly on another level (he is a villain in Naruto and you cannot match that level in any other fucking series). He is genuinely so unhinged and he genuinely believes that he is a normal person. He is so fundamentally broken and it is so funny.

What caught me about Naruto villains - because this is Naruto, it is interesting in theory and so stupid in practice - is that they are almost all, fundamentally, good people. The goal of most Naruto villains is "create a better world with no war and only love and peace". Which means that you have to be a special kind of nuts to be a Naruto villain, because you are a good person who got so incredibly fucked up and twisted by your incredibly violent life that you are now an evil schemer who is trying to blow up half the continent. The evil in Naruto is on a systemic level, not a person one. You Call This A Utopia?! is fundamentally about this. Except stupid.

Tobi is also one of the most challenging but rewarding characters I've written. FUN FUN FUN. Lots more to say about literally all of this. For now I'll just say that I'm an adult, so these days I gravitate to adult POVs. Obito is the adult's window into a kid's world. But Obito is honestly an overgrown kid himself. Let's see how that all plays out.

[schneiderenjoyer]

isekai magical girl schneider yeet from magical contracting timekeeper vertin's suitcase like a summoned pokemon

that is all.

[elegyofthemoon]

can someone remind me to write up my thoughts about gallagher and the enigmata later or at least compile them somewhere i want to share it but also my Goodness i am sleepy as heck today and i have work tonight 😔

[slashmagpie]

Blood & Snow

Pt. IV

Directory: {Pt. I} {Pt. II} {Pt. III} {Pt. V} {Pt. VI} {Pt. VII} {AO3}

Day four for @hermithorrorweek! This is the longest chapter in this fic and completely got away from me lmao. I hope you all enjoy it. TWs for this chapter include: violence, gore, possession, non-consensual body modification*, temporary character death?

IV. TAKEN OVER

“So what you’re saying,” Cub says, “is that the dungeon… ate Tango?”

The seven of them are sitting in a makeshift circle of chairs in the waiting room. Well—most of them. Scar’s in his wheelchair, rolling back and forth in that way he only does when he’s particularly anxious, and Gem is hopping around the outside of the circle, too full of energy to sit still. Bdubs is a shade paler than usual, fingers buried deep in the moss of his cloak, his chair pushed as close to Scar as he can manage. Pearl is sitting on his other side, a frown on her face as she glances around the circle. Then there’s Cub, and beside him, Etho and Hypno, both of them evidently as concerned by this development as he is.

“Or—something,” Bdubs says, uncomfortable but not quite grumbling. “It’s like—everything’s covered in his soul.”

“His soul,” Etho echoes, sceptically.

“His soul, his consciousness, his self, whatever you wanna call it! But it’s everywhere.” 

“I dunno, Bdubs, that sounds pretty…”

“Ridiculous?” Bdubs snaps. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it! But it’s real.”

“And the dungeon has flesh now,” Scar adds. “And it breathes. It’s really freaky! And I can’t find Tango anywhere.”

“I found him,” Bdubs says. “It was dark. He said he was in ‘the one place you can’t reach.’ Any ideas what that means?”

There’s a long, drawn-out pause.

“I mean…” says Cub. “There’s really only one place, isn’t there?”

“Where?” Scar asks.

“The Burning Dark.”

There’s another long, long pause.

“You mean level four,” Hypno clarifies.

“Well, it is the one place we can’t get to,” Cub points out. 

“You want someone to get down to level four. To find Tango. Without dying. When it’s not even open?” Etho says, staring at him.

Cub shrugs. “Anyone have any better ideas?”

They don’t.

“Tango’s going to kill me,” Etho wails.

“Wait, who said anything about you being the one to do it?” Hypno says. 

“Well—I mean, I thought…” Etho trails off awkwardly, shrugging. “Since I’m the best player, and all…”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hypno says with a huff. “I mean, me and Cub are pretty good at this, too!”

“Well, I mean, if you two want to do it, be my guest. Are your decks big enough?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“We could all do it,” Cub suggests.

They turn to stare at him. “What?”

“Well… it’s not like it’s a proper run, anyway. We’re not trying to get an artefact—we’re trying to get Tango. If we combine our decks, go in together… We might have a better chance of at least one of us making it.”

The two of them consider it. “It could work,” Hypno admits. “Wouldn’t it cause a lot of clank, though?” 

“Well, then we sacrifice Etho to the Vex and keep on running.”

“Hey!”

“Sure. We can go in together. Why not?”

“Great. Etho? You in, man?”

Etho sighs. “Fine.”

“So that’s the plan?” Pearl says. “We send in the three best players and hope you guys can get him out?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

“No, no, it’s fine, I just feel like there’s something more we should be able to do.” She points at herself, Scar, and Bdubs, then waves a vague hand in Gem’s direction. “Right? I don’t wanna be sitting around twiddling my thumbs while you guys are down there.”

“I could try dreaming again?” Bdubs suggests. “Like—I could be down there all invisible helping you guys out.”

“And I’ll be your man in the van!” Scar declares.

“Our… what?” Hypno blinks.

“You know, your man in the van! Like Grian in Phasmo!”

“He means he’s gonna sit out here and not do anything,” Gem cuts in.

“Hey! I’m going to offer my best commentary.”

Etho pulls a face. “Can we pass on that?”

“Okay, so, what about me?” Pearl asks. “What should I do?”

“I know what you can do,” Gem says. 

Pearl turns to look at her. “You do?”

“Sure.”

Cub glances up at Gem, and instantly his senses tell him that something is wrong. He can’t quite put his finger on it—is it that she’s suddenly stiller than usual? The way her fingers twitch towards the sword sheathed at her hip? The stony look in her eye, the smile stretching eerily across her mouth?

Before he can figure it out, Gem answers the question with, “You can stop me.”

Her sword is out before anyone can say anything to that, coming down on Bdubs’ shoulder and splitting him in two. Bdubs respawns in the bed across the room with a cry, his body dissolving into golden and green light that soaks into Gem’s skin as she laughs and wipes the blood from her skirt. Cub is on his feet in a matter of seconds, pulling his own weapon and shield, as the rest of their little circle scatters apart and away from her. 

“Gem?” Pearl cries, drawing her axe, taking several careful steps back. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, Pearl.” Gem’s smiling, but there’s a note of genuinity in her voice, a slight shake around the edges. “I can’t just let you break the rules!”

“Who died and made you hall monitor?” Scar mutters as he wheels as far back from Gem as he can get.

“Tango,” Gem says, her breath misting in the air like it’s several degrees colder than the waiting room actually is. “He told me I need to stop you by any means necessary.” She takes a step forward, swinging her sword and letting the tip of it drag across the ground. “And as much as I want to save him, well… Any means necessary it is. Unless... you stop me.” She steps just into Pearl’s personal space. Cub watches as frost begins to creep over the tip of Pearl’s nose.

“The dungeon ate you too,” he realises.

Gem grins with too-sharp teeth and swings her sword upwards.

“Run!” Pearl cries, parrying it with the blade of her axe. “Go, go!”

“You heard her!” Etho says, and then he and Hypno are running, leaving Cub watching the fight unfolding.

“Cub, what are you doing?” Hypno cries. “Come on!”

Cub should run, is the thing, should join them in their trip down. He knows it, right down to the itch in his skin that begs him to move. But that’s the problem—there’s an itch that makes him want to move. A foreign presence too familiar to not recognise, blue veins stretching across his skin, the voice different but the motive all the same.

Go with them, begs the skulk, begs the dungeon, and Cub looks at the ferocity with which Gem fights and feels an inkling of fear in the back of his brain.

The dungeon ate Tango. It’s eating Gem.

…What happens when it eats me, too?

“Cub! We’re gonna go without you!” Etho cries, and the skulk screams, and Cub flinches away from the fight and towards his friends.

“Sorry! Coming!” he cries, and races towards the drop-down into the hall below.

“Dude, for a moment, we thought you weren’t gonna come,” Hypno says. “Thought you were gonna leave us out to dry.”

“Nah, man,” Cub says, shoving his blue-coated hands in his pockets, trying not to squirm. “I’m with you, I’m with you.”

“Right. Everyone get their decks and meet back here,” Hypno says. “Who’s paying?”

There’s a long pause.

“Well, you know, I got the least shards…” Etho says, shuffling.

“You also have the best win rate.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“I’ll pay,” Cub says. “I’m sure Tango will reimburse me, anyway.”

The two of them glance at him. “Oh, okay. Thanks, Cub.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Cub smiles at them. “I just wanna get down there as fast as possible. Speedrun, come on. Let’s get our decks.”

----

It’s weird, going in with three people: first they sort through their cards, try to figure out the best way to build their individual deck into one larger one, bicker about getting the correct cards back at the end of the day. Then they have to decide—well, it isn’t a real run, so is it worth taking their armour in? What about food? Would taking a sword to a ravager be a smart move, or a particularly stupid one?

Some part of Cub—a part that he’s not too keen on inspecting—recoils at the idea of cheating to such an extent, and he tells the others so. They agree—a little reluctantly, maybe, but he thinks they all feel uneasy at the idea of angering the dungeon, when it’s already in Gem trying to tear Pearl apart upstairs, and it’s already got Tango trapped somewhere deep within its depths. So: no armour, no food, no weapons. Just the three of them, and their frankenstein deck, and all the wits they have about them.

Man, Cub just hopes they aren’t making a mistake.

“Shotgun!” Hypno calls as he hops in the minecart. Cub hops onto the back of the minecart, arms around Hypno’s shoulders and feet firmly planted on the transom at the minecart’s rear. 

“Sorry, Etho,” he says with a faux-sheepish, not at all apologetic smile at the third member of their party. “Guess you’ll have to walk.”

“Oh, no, I can fit,” Etho says, and promptly throws himself into Hypno’s lap.

Hypno yelps. “Dude!”

“What?” Etho bats his eyes innocently, but Cub will bet anything that there’s a smirk beneath that mask of his. “Are we ready to go?”

“I guess,” Hypno grumbles, wincing as Etho repositions himself in the cart.

“Press the button, let’s go,” Cub says.

“Pressing the button!” Etho says, reaching up to hit it and then ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the low ceiling of the tunnel.

The minecart ride takes an age, and yet takes no time at all: the air turns frigid around them as they descend down into the depths, and Cub gets a sense of what Scar had been talking about, the feeling of being surrounded by something alive. He tightens his grip on Hypno’s shoulders, sucks in a steadying breath—

And then falls in a heap on top of the other two as they’re all forcibly ejected from the minecart into the same space.

“Oww…”

“Ugh.”

“Welp.” Cub stands and shoves his hands in his pocket. “Better not do that again.”

“Trust me, I’m not planning on it,” Hypno grouses. “Who wants the map?”

“You can take it man, I don’t mind,” Cub says. “Just keep us updated on the card count.”

“Got it.” Hypno picks up the map, leaving the compass floating behind in the entryway as he heads towards the door. “Okay, what’s the game plan?”

“Split up and look for a key?” Etho suggests. 

“Won’t that just build up clank?” Hypno shoots back.

“EVASION,” bellows the dungeon.

“...Well, that answers that question,” Cub says, following the two of them down into the ice tunnels. “Anyone know where the ravagers are?”

“Not a clue,” Hypno says.

“Hopefully Tango will be nice to us,” Etho says. “Right, guys?”

“...Well, we can certainly hope,” Cub says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

His fingers close on the cold heavy compass shell that he did not put in there.

“Alright,” Hypno says as they make it to the circle. “Who’s going where?”

“I’ll go up the right tunnel!” Etho volunteers immediately.

“I’ll take the left,” Cub offers.

“And I’ll take the crypt, then,” Hypno says. “Okay. Use your comms—message if you have a key and we’ll meet at the kneeling man.”

“Gotcha,” Cub says, and with that they’re off. 

There’s nothing by the TNT pond, and only a few coins in the treasure spot on the leftmost tunnel. He snags some berries and hops across the dripstone, pausing in the opening of the tunnel as he hears the distinctive huff of a ravager. He presses himself to the wall, and feels the wall shudder behind him, not quite solid. He freezes and, slowly, reaches back to press his hand into it. 

The skulk that’s eaten into his fingers shivers, and like recognises like, and the cold surface of ice and stone feels almost warm.

Like frostbite, Cub thinks, almost absently. He feels warm, but he’s cold. His breath mists in the chill air.

Without thinking, he steps out into the path of a ravager. 

He blinks at the ravager. It blinks back at him. He can see his silhouette reflected in its eyes. 

“Hey, man,” Cub greets. “Are we gonna be cool about this? Great, thanks man. Knew I could count on you.” 

He can feel the dungeon’s gaze on him as he stares the ravager in the eye. His fingers are black and blue. The cold feels almost cosy. He tightens his fingers around the compass. 

“We’re cool,” he says again, and he’s not talking to the ravager this time. “I’ll get it, don’t you worry.” 

The ravager, slowly, turns and begins to walk away. 

<Hypnotizd> got a key

Cub turns and walks the other way, leaving black and blue footprints in his wake.

-----

Down on level two, there’s more ground to cover. Etho heads towards Rusty’s room. Hypno takes the lava pathway. Cub makes a beeline through mushrooms to the dripleaf parkour.

He finds a key in the amethyst, floating in the water right beneath a ravager’s feet. It watches him docilely as he ducks in and picks it up, leaving with a casual wave. 

The parkour is easy. The lake, even easier. Willie throws a trident, but it feels more like a greeting, an inside joke, than it does a threat. The throw goes wide, anyway. Cub drags himself to shore, shakes off the water like a wet dog, and approaches the barrel.

He sucks in a breath. Tightens his fingers on the compass. Pulls out his communicator with his other hand.

<cubfan135> sorry guys

<cubfan135> gotta do it

<cubfan135> you know how it is

<Hypnotizd> ???

<Etho> cub what are you doing

<Hypnotizd> what

<cubfan135> good luck making it to lvl3

He tucks the device away and opens the barrel, placing the key into the slot. There’s a familiar chime, and then the door opens with the hiss of pistons firing. Cub takes a steadying breath as he steps through the doorway, and finally pulls the compass from his pocket.

His hand is fully covered in skulk, the veins rotting their way into his flesh, inseparable from his skin without carving them out. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. More skulk-spots dot the surface of the compass, but he can still see the needle through them. Can still see the inscription, telling him to go deeper into the dungeon.

And so Cub goes.

He doesn’t bother crouching. Level three goes so much quicker when you don’t have to worry about being quiet, when you know that even if the wardens do hear you, they won’t care. The skulk sloughs from his legs, leaving sticky trails of fungal soul rot behind him. He can feel it creeping up his spine, weaving into the cracks between the bones. The dungeon is dark, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s got rot in his eyes, or because he’s close enough to a warden for the blindness to take effect. He supposes it doesn’t really matter. He knows where he’s going anyway, the skulk veins in his nervous system controlling his legs so that he doesn’t have to.

Hm. It must be in his brain already. If it wasn’t, he’d probably be a lot more panicked about being puppeted like this.

When did it get so bad? He feels like he should have noticed it getting quite this bad sometime before this run. It had started when he’d begun running deadlies, of course, when he’d first touched the skulk and had veins wrap themselves around the tips of his fingers, like recognises like. The rot knows that he’s been a home for it before—knew he would be a home for it again. And Cub had taken that little vein, that infection, back up to the surface, and he’d told it no. Had told it, just for Halloween. Just a costume. He wouldn’t do what he did last time, and overtake the server with mould and decay. He’s not about that, anymore.

And yet, here he is, covered in the stuff, rot in his bones and blood and brain. How had he not noticed? How had nobody noticed?

(He thinks of Gem, perched in the walls, skin turning grey and eyes turning sharp. He thinks of Tango, trapped by his own dungeon, deep within the depths of a cave he’d sacrificed months of his life to. He thinks of run after run, of heart-pounding, adrenaline-rushing fun, of shard-cravings and withdrawal-fever, and he thinks that maybe, maybe he understands.)

(Nobody had wanted to notice, because noticing would have meant having to stop.)

(And nobody wants to stop playing Decked Out.)

Cub comes to a halt as the compass’ needle begins to spin wildly. He takes a few steps back and forth, feeling for the minecart beneath his feet, and drops the compass into the hopper.

A dispenser spits... something back into his hands.

CF135, says the label on the something, but this is not the artefact Cub’s familiar with, not the model rocketship with his name carved into the side. This could barely be called an artefact at all, a bloody and writhing handful of intestine, frozen half-rotted flesh beneath his fingers. He gags, nearly dropping the guts, blood spattering against the skulk that coats his legs and being absorbed into the rot. The guts themselves have spots of skulk-vein spattered across them, barely visible through the red, pulsing blood that drips from them, and they twitch despite clearly being dead, dead, dead.

“What is this?” he cries out to the dungeon. “Why have you given me this?”

Something tugs on his leg. Gently, barely there, and then—

Cub lets out a scream as he’s pulled down through the floor, pain flooding his body as his pelvis hits the hard stone floor. The skulk surges, crawling up his body, consuming all in his wake, tugging him down, down, down. The intestines wrap themselves around his neck, squeezing just tight enough that his limited vision darkens even further, that he panics, before loosening ever so slightly to allow him to gasp. 

Cub wails.

“Hey, no, stop it, I don’t—Tango! Tango, hey, man, please, stop it—!”

The dungeon quivers around him. The skulk slows in its consumption, leaving Cub half-eaten and shaking on the dungeon floor. His chest shudders as he sucks in one breath, and then another.

“That’s it, man,” he manages to choke out through the tears. “We can talk about this, can’t we? I promise—I won’t even try and get you out, if you don’t want me to. I’ll stop the others. Just—don’t do this. Okay?”

Everything is still for a moment. Silent. 

Cub feels a vein of skulk drag itself slowly, comfortingly, across his cheek, leaving a bloom of decay in its wake.

“Cubby,” the dungeon sighs, voice as unfamiliar as the word is familiar, and Cub lets out a sigh of relief.

“Tango! Hey, man. Good to see you, good to see you.” He may be a little delirious, actually, he thinks as he babbles. “Hey, so, you can let me go, yeah? I’ll get out of your hair—or into it if you’d prefer—whatever, man, I’ll do whatever, as long as you let me go. So—we’re good? Yeah?”

The intestines tighten, not enough to choke, but enough to hold. A hug, an embrace, in the only way a dungeon made of rotting flesh knows how. Cub melts into it. He’s in so much pain, is the thing. He’s in so much pain, and he’s so, so cold.

Something yanks on his leg, and a shrieker howls, and the skulk devours, and Cub manages one last cry before he’s pulled down into the dark.

[uygfiug]

wednesday boop! hope you're having a good one!

wednesday boop!